If I got a tattoo

I know what it would have to say:  “It’s not about you.”

What is this constant, nagging, sneaky and subtle need we have to focus on ourselves?  It seems I work hard not to and ask God to help me put self aside and no sooner think I’ve made progress than I notice I’m thinking about myself again…or giving myself credit, or assuming something is up to me that is actually up to Him.

It’s one of those long-as-life projects, I think, and it’s not really my project.  It’s God’s.

I would probably benefit from having a tattoo that reminded me of this crucial truth every time I saw it.  Maybe it would be best across my forehead, backward so that when I looked in the mirror I could read it and remember.

It’s not that I should hate myself, or berate myself.  It’s not that I should think of myself as a loser, though sometimes I do. Continue reading

Just helpin’ out

As I talked with her in the parking lot after we boogied and sweated together in Zumba class, I was tickled by her enthusiasm and joy.   Sometimes in these conversations I can see her becoming a woman and blossoming right there in front of me.  I couldn’t help smiling as my firstborn gushed about all the awesome things God is doing in her life and the exciting opportunities for ministry coming her way.   As she spoke, God spoke very clearly to me, “See my handiwork?  Isn’t this much more valuable than any house, paycheck, or material thing?”

Years ago when the girls were little, they loved to help us with projects.  Continue reading