Hi to my devotion readers--- I had planned to write today's post about prayers that touch the heart of God. I will post about that tomorrow. Please check back.
Today, I feel compelled to write about something that just happened. Maybe it is what someone needs to hear today. Maybe it is just for my heart to process.
Either way, I pray it touches you and some part of your heart that has ever given up on someone from your past.
Art and I are on a much needed get away.
Some dear friends of ours have a condo near a ski lodge in Vermont that they graciously offered for free. Combine that with frequent flier tickets and a dinner menu each night of homemade grilled cheese sandwiches with a side of Campbell's tomato soup and it's quite the economical way to do a vacation.
Without the pop-up camper--- glory! I may or may not be emotionally allergic to that pop up camper which requires one to walk across a campground to take care of biological necessities in the middle of the night.
Hello Jason with a cracked hockey mask on. You were the delight of all my childhood nightmares. Something about heading outside in the o'dark hundred hour makes me feel like there is an audience somewhere screaming at me, "Don't go outside! Don't go outside!"
Anyhow. Glad to report this little condo has indoor bathroom facilities.
So, this morning I woke up and stared out at what an overnight snow storm brought us. I have never seen such snow in all my live long day. But what really caught my attention was the most gigantic icicles I've ever seen hanging from the roof line.
They are glorious.
As I stared out at them suddenly a memory flashed across the screen of my mind.
It was about my Dad. My biological Dad. The one who abandoned me a long time ago and who knows nothing about my life now.
I don't have very many memories of him. The ones I do have aren't that great. And if I let my mind dwell on the gaping hole he left in my heart, I get sad even to this day.
God has been so good to help me see that I am not the child of a broken parent any longer- that I am a child of God. I am loved. I am treasured. I am wanted.
But sometimes, this nagging thought sneaks into the crevices of my heart and I start wondering, why didn't my Daddy love me.
That's why this icicle memory brought such joy to my heart. It is a good memory of my Dad. It rushed into my mind this morning in a way that brought a fresh, gleaming perspective.
I grew up in Florida which meant no snow ever. But I remember praying for snow. Praying like a revival preacher at a tent meeting I tell ya'. If ever there could be snow in Florida, surely a passionate little girl's prayers could open up those heavenly storehouses where all snowflakes are kept.
One night, the temperatures dropped surprisingly low, and the weather man called for a freeze. This was a rare thing in our area. How tragic there was no precipitation on this particular cold night. It was the one night that snow might have been possible.
It broke my little snow bunny heart.
But the next morning I awoke to the most glorious sight I'd ever seen in all my life. There were icicles everywhere. Gleaming, dripping, hanging, light reflecting, glorious icicles were all over the trees in our back yard.
It was magical.
We were the only house on the block with this grand winter display.
Because I was the only girl whose Daddy thought to put out sprinklers on the one night it froze.
I don't know where this memory has been hiding for too many years. But what a gift. Somewhere in the deep, mysterious, broken places of my Dad's heart, there was an inkling of love.
I pray wherever he is today, he too remembers the night of the icicle wonder land. For it is a common thread of hope that ties too very distant hearts together.
And that makes me smile.
Today, I feel compelled to write about something that just happened. Maybe it is what someone needs to hear today. Maybe it is just for my heart to process.
Either way, I pray it touches you and some part of your heart that has ever given up on someone from your past.
Art and I are on a much needed get away.
Some dear friends of ours have a condo near a ski lodge in Vermont that they graciously offered for free. Combine that with frequent flier tickets and a dinner menu each night of homemade grilled cheese sandwiches with a side of Campbell's tomato soup and it's quite the economical way to do a vacation.
Without the pop-up camper--- glory! I may or may not be emotionally allergic to that pop up camper which requires one to walk across a campground to take care of biological necessities in the middle of the night.
Hello Jason with a cracked hockey mask on. You were the delight of all my childhood nightmares. Something about heading outside in the o'dark hundred hour makes me feel like there is an audience somewhere screaming at me, "Don't go outside! Don't go outside!"
Anyhow. Glad to report this little condo has indoor bathroom facilities.
So, this morning I woke up and stared out at what an overnight snow storm brought us. I have never seen such snow in all my live long day. But what really caught my attention was the most gigantic icicles I've ever seen hanging from the roof line.
They are glorious.
As I stared out at them suddenly a memory flashed across the screen of my mind.
It was about my Dad. My biological Dad. The one who abandoned me a long time ago and who knows nothing about my life now.
I don't have very many memories of him. The ones I do have aren't that great. And if I let my mind dwell on the gaping hole he left in my heart, I get sad even to this day.
God has been so good to help me see that I am not the child of a broken parent any longer- that I am a child of God. I am loved. I am treasured. I am wanted.
But sometimes, this nagging thought sneaks into the crevices of my heart and I start wondering, why didn't my Daddy love me.
That's why this icicle memory brought such joy to my heart. It is a good memory of my Dad. It rushed into my mind this morning in a way that brought a fresh, gleaming perspective.
I grew up in Florida which meant no snow ever. But I remember praying for snow. Praying like a revival preacher at a tent meeting I tell ya'. If ever there could be snow in Florida, surely a passionate little girl's prayers could open up those heavenly storehouses where all snowflakes are kept.
One night, the temperatures dropped surprisingly low, and the weather man called for a freeze. This was a rare thing in our area. How tragic there was no precipitation on this particular cold night. It was the one night that snow might have been possible.
It broke my little snow bunny heart.
But the next morning I awoke to the most glorious sight I'd ever seen in all my life. There were icicles everywhere. Gleaming, dripping, hanging, light reflecting, glorious icicles were all over the trees in our back yard.
It was magical.
We were the only house on the block with this grand winter display.
Because I was the only girl whose Daddy thought to put out sprinklers on the one night it froze.
I don't know where this memory has been hiding for too many years. But what a gift. Somewhere in the deep, mysterious, broken places of my Dad's heart, there was an inkling of love.
I pray wherever he is today, he too remembers the night of the icicle wonder land. For it is a common thread of hope that ties too very distant hearts together.
And that makes me smile.
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