My Stable Moment

Last month, my pastor gave a Christmas message title, “When You Follow a Star and Get a Stable,” following the journey of the wise men from the East to find the appointed Messiah that they had researched. Their guide was a simple star cast in the heavens, leading them on a journey. I am not sure what thoughts these men had as they pursued their findings. Did they believe they would find a strong warrior, dressed to call forth a mighty army to overthrow the vise of Roman oppression? Did they think they would find a commanding king, enthroned in beauty, riches and authority, to claim His kingdom from His enemies who had enslaved His people for hundreds of year?

Yet when they arrived in Jerusalem and then were sent to Bethleham, they found a simple baby, one who could not talk, could not walk, could not command release for His people. They found not a warring King but a baby who needed constant care for His welfare. The site of his appearance was not a majestic palace or wealthy house, but a simple, quiet and stinky stable. They followed a star with high dreams and hopes of what may be, but at the end of that journey, they only found a simple stable. The thought my pastor presented was this: how often do we follow God’s star, with high hopes and expectations for prosperity and favor only to find a simple, lonely, stinky stable at the end.

The past three weeks have been a major stable moment for my parents and me. What else could it be? Eight years ago, my parents purchased a home that they believed would be the final home of their lives. They had such hopes for this house. A few years ago I joined them in calling this house my home, so the events that have occurred I claim as my own. The events resonate deeply in me just as it does with my parents. They cut deep. They hurt. They confused me. They brought a fog into my life. They raised questions. They caused a journey I did not choose. Yet they happened anyway.

For the past five months, my parents have been battling the bank in regards to their mortgage. A decision that was unilaterally made by the bank has wrecked havoc on our lives. A decision that may seem so simple on a paper cause tidal waves of issues in us. A decision that had no options of recovery was prolonged through empty promises, constant confusing information, and no human contact. Until, the final letter was delivered. And we were forced to see our stable.

Coming home after a wonderful Christmas holiday, we were riding the emotions of that week. I had barely unpacked my suitcase and was settling back into my room, when my mother walked in my room, holding a piece a paper, and with tears in her eyes, she stated, “It’s over. We have lost our home.” The bank was choosing foreclosure. Our stable was looking gloomy, and I did not want to be there. All I could do was cry a simple call,” God help us!”

Two days after this letter was read, I researched house rentals in my town. I found a website and took a look at this one house. After looking at the pictures, I ran downstairs and told my parents that I had found our new house. Dad went online and filled out the rental agreement. Granted, I really was only doing this to cheer everyone up, to give my parents a bit of good news that we had options in this tough time.

Our stable stunk. It was not fun. We did not like it. The stable wore at our love and patience for each other. I had no idea if we could even get this house. I just wanted to give a bit of hope. Yet in that moment, something showed up. Something maybe a bit dim at the time, but it showed up anyway. Now comes our star. Our new journey.

Within one week, my parents were approved for the house. One week after that we moved into the new house, site unseen. My father found a moving company that moved us in six hours and saved us money in the process. This new home is beautiful and amazing. Financially, it is a huge blessing. We are truly blessed to have found this home. We truly believe that all that has occurred was no shock to God. He walked with us the entire time. I am also walking in the understanding that this event has a greater design than just this house. I do not know what tomorrow may bring, but I know that God has greater plans for my family that probably could not exist with the other house. He needed my family where they are.

Thinking back on my pastor’s message, I remember him stating that in the stable, I can find Jesus. And it is true. Even if the wise men expected a palace, they were not looking for a building. They were looking for a person, a messiah. They still found him. In our stable, I found Jesus once again. I found His light and peace to face this stinging rejection. I rediscovered His faithfulness and provision. I found Him waiting for me to just rest with him. This time has been uncomfortable but restful. The great news, my stable is not the end. It is just a stop. Now we have a new star. A new journey. And I am ready to take a step forward.

And the journey continues...

I feel as if I am in a time warp at the moment. I could turn back the calendar a few years, and the picture would be the same. Here I am, living in the Central Valley of a state I vowed to never live in, and I am jobless. I surf the website for any job listings and network opportunities. My hand gets a nice workout with all the applications I fill out. And I wait, wait for the phone to ring for a job interview that may lead to a job.

The picture is the same; well, almost the same. The differences are subtle but they are there. Instead of waiting for the official acceptance for graduate school, I am now waiting on the official word for a full-time position. Instead of finding a church home, I find myself delving back into the church I left. Instead of being a new face, I have friends here. And yet, two years have past, and the journey seems almost the same, as if no time has passed at all. It all boils down to this one thing. A word I often times say with an ease, but I find myself struggling with at the moment. A word that lays a foundation to the very essence of my life's journey. A simple, yet complex word. And that is faith.

Faith. A simple word.
Faith. A complex word to live.
Faith. It pushes against the anxiety that wants to cripple me.
Faith. It begs for me to hold onto the peace that wants to cover me.
Faith. It reaches for empty, open hands.
Faith. It calls for willing trust.
Faith. It cries for forward steps.
Faith. It speaks to the unknown.
Faith. It sustains when weakness builds.

So, same picture, different time. Same faith, different faith. One based on the same One from before, but a faith grown from that last picture. So, I step.

The Blowing Storm.

It is an interesting title despite the fact the days have been quite sunny with very little cloud coverage. Rain has become a memory as the season has progressed into the summer heat of southern California. But my mind has focused on another storm. One I read about from time to time. A storm where faith or vision was tested.

The night was dark as the storm clouds erased all signs of heavenly lights. The wind whipped the boat through the choppy waters beneath its floor. The men are frantic in their attempt to guide the ship to shore, safely and securely. Yet the driving rain slashes at their faces and hands; the wind whistles around their ears. The hearts are dropping in fear while adrenaline pushes them to attempt a landing, not caring which shore. They just want land.

In the midst of the pressing storm, a vision is seen across the waging waves. The men blinked their eyes in disbelief, wondering if they were reaching the point of exhaustion and delirium. They could barely contain the truth what their eyes saw, a man walking on the surface of the water. He was steady and straight. The waves did not harm him.

One of the men in the boat called out in a hopeful voice as his mind grasped the truth of the man's identity. The man was Jesus. With faith that is beyond comprehension, he called out to him, asking this man for permission to come to him. Jesus told him to come and without hesitation in the midst of the storm, Peter took his steps to His Lord.

The wind whipped all around him, tearing at his clothes. The rain continued to slash at his face and body as Peter stepped forward again and again. The storm raged on, but Peter had eyes fixed on one sight. His Lord. His Savior. His Messiah.

Lately, my mind has been wrapped around the concept of the storm that raged that night of Peter's step of faith. No matter how many times I have read that passage, I still have yet to read that Jesus calmed that storm. No, despite Peter's faith to walk to the Lord, the storm raged on in the midst of this journey. Peter hardly noticed the storm until he took his eyes of Jesus. Then he saw the storm. And he was overwhelmed. His eyes left Jesus and only saw the storm.

Sometimes I think about my life. So many ups and downs. Some calm days and some stormy days. The calm days are easy. The stormy ones can wan my strength and courage. Many times the storm continues to rage, day after day without relief in sight. Then some days the storms are gone, or they just seem like they are. I look back on those days and realize that the storms had not diminished in their raging. I just fixed my focus on another sight. On another source of strength.

I am discovering that when I place my faith in Christ and take the step towards him, He does not always calm the storms of my circumstances. Sometimes, those storms rage on with might and power, doing everything it can to knock me down. No, I look back on those days and realize that the storm Jesus calmed was the one inside me. The peace came to my fearful heart and anxious mind. The peace steadied me to continue my walk towards Jesus. The storms still raged at times, but the storms were not in me.

I did not fall off the planet.

Although, it may seem like I have. Since I just finished my Winter quarter and have a short break until the Spring quarter, I thought I would catch everyone up. For those of you who do not get to see me on a regular basis, a.k.a my fellow Fuller students, this note is for you.

I did not disappear from the face of the earth. I landed in a small section of the world called seminary. The past seven months have been quite a whirlwind of adaptation and new experiences as I delved back into the world of academia. I have been out of school for awhile so the learning curve of papers, quizzes and tests took me a while to find a rhythm to my school work. Ten weeks is definitely a short amount of time to learn so much information.

So now I have just finished my finals for the Winter quarter and I am rejoicing that I am done! Although I did contract the epidemic of the Hand Cramp after many hours of feverish writing to complete two finals. Luckily, the epidemic did not last long as the muscles in my fingers finally began to relax. I now have full use of my hand. YEAH!

The last several days have been interesting as I prepped my mind for the forthcoming finals. The two I had were Psychopathology and OT Writings. At one point, I thought those two were such a weird combination to be stuffing my brain with criteria and notes that for a moment I was DID. For those of you outside the cohort, that means Dissociative Identity Disorder, formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. So here I am a psychology student dividing my mind into theology. Two distinct personalities gaining control with full awareness yet I began to wonder if I could actually meld the two together, integrating them into one whole person as I was learning in Integration. (FYI – I am having fun with a play-on-words with my classes from the past quarter.)

So now, I have ten days with no classes, no tests, no quizzes, no reading assignments. What am I going to do? HAVE FUN!!! ENJOY THE SUN!!! Before I delve into the endless pit of academia once again only to emerge within eleven weeks, blinking my eyes at the wonder of the world beyond seminary.

I will definitely try to keep things up this time around.

Rooftop Party.

Last Friday night was a night of pure fun. I was told about this event from current students and was highly persuaded to attend this event. I am so glad I did. What event? The annual Fuller Rooftop Party. I was not sure what to expect for the night but it was a blast.

Just a few minute’s walk from my apartment, the site of this historic event existed. It did not take long for the sound of the bass to permeate the night air. I reached the stairs that lead to the rooftop. With each step, the music got louder and louder, inviting me to continue my climb up the stairs. The view from the top was spectacular. A night full of blinking stars, the glow from the night lights, and the outlines of the city outside.

At first it seemed like no one would show but then we all like to be fashionably late. By 8 pm, the rooftop was hoping, literally, with students from all schools at Fuller. Laughter was flowing all around. Smiles were spread upon every face. And the bass was pumping. Old favorites from the good ole days of high school busted from the speakers as MC Hammer, Michael Jackson, and other such names kept the feet pounding and the bodies dancing. Cheese and chocolate fondu mixed with Italian Sodas made the night a complete success. Now if only this event could be more than just once a year….

Orientation Week.

It is Friday night and the evening is somewhat late. I am relaxing at my computer after one full week of meetings, activities and new friends. This past week marked the opening to this new stage of my life; it was orientation week at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena. It was an amazing week and I was so impressed with the layout of the week and the welcome that new students received as we moved forward towards the beginning of our new life.

One great thing about the week was FREE FOOD! When you are waiting for the extra money to hit your bank account, free food is a great thing! This is what my week entailed: game night, round table discussions with faculty, lunch with faculty, dinner with the MFT cohort, pizza with the 2nd year MFT's, integration panel discussion, Diversity brunch and another BBQ with our All Seminary Council and concert on the campus lawn. That does not even begin include all the awesome people I have met each day. My cohort alone is 55 people and I still have two other schools to get to know people.

Being here at Fuller already has been an awesome experience and I am more than blessed with the people I have met. I am definitely worn out from all the activities and my brain is quite muddled with faces and names. So I am really ready to begin my classes which start Tuesday.

Ask me in five or six weeks if I feel the same...hahaha

Fireproof (Theatrical Trailer)

Coming soon...must see!

Evolution of Dance

This video is funny and will make you remember all those dances that we used to do or know the songs very well. Enjoy!

And four hours later...

So, I have been putting off this one last item of my move from a year ago that would completely erase my legal connection to the state of Iowa. I held off registering my car in the state of California just because I did not want to pay the registration fees for bringing my car into a new state. Since I had already had my tags from Iowa, I just did not do it.

With August rolling around, the notice came that my registration tags would shortly be expiring. I was debating about transferring the registration for several weeks, especially when I viewed the costs of registering my car in CA versus IA and of course, IA came out on the shorter end. I figured I would take care of the details once I settled into my apartment and could get online.

According to California law, as soon as I start working in the state of CA, I now become a legal resident of the state and therefore must register my car. I thought maybe I could get away with registering in IA since I am now a student and I was all ready to do that. Then one morning as I was waking up and the fog of sleep began to leave my mind, I realized that I could not, legally, register my car in Iowa. Why? Because I no longer had a residence there. My parents sold the house. So I had to register it here.

I went to the DMV today. I thought I was already to go through the details. I had the registration form filled out. I had my car smog checked. I had my current registration card. And my current driver's license. I get there. I get my number. I had to wait just over an hour. So I get to the window, hand the lady all the forms, and I was missing one item. I had to have a DMV personnel inspect my car before I could register my car. So i went out, got my car in the lane (and the parking lot was a nightmare!) and had the DMV inspect my car. I thought I was done. But no, I had to go back into the station, get another number, and finishing my registration.

Needless to say, I spent over four hours at the DMV to register my car which no longer sports the IA plates and now displays the white plates of California. But at least I will not get pulled over for expired tags and I am becoming more and more a Cali-girl.

A quick update.

I have finally arrived...I am in Pasadena. My parents and I drove down from Modesto yesterday and pulled up in front of my apartment building around 2:00 p.m. I LOVE MY APARTMENT! It is a bit smaller than I expected but it will be perfect for just me for the next year or two years. It is a total mess at the moment as my stuff was just plopped into the room but for the moment I have dishes, silverware, glasses, a bed, and towels. I have the basics until I get the rest taken care of.

So what is next? I need to settle in. I have a job interview on Monday for a work study position. I need to wrap up a few loose ends to get the basics. I do not have internet at the apartment so I may be absent for a few days but I am working on that bit of work. I hope to get registered fully into my classes and begin the reading that I know will hit me once school starts. I will need to find a church home and just relax and enjoy this new journey that God has lead me on.

I write again in the future.

The Moon.

The lesser light
that rules by
the dark of night
with its round eye
that blinks and winks
playing peek-a-boo
with the cloak of stars
now smiles down
upon me.

Blue Escape.

calm, blue waters
ripples with the
gentle breeze...
with its inviting whispers
calls me to
envelope myself
int is
refreshing depths.

Willow Tree.

branches that hang down
in gentle tears
hiding the beauty
of hidden space
that two lovers seek.
waving gently as the wind whirls
dancing upon the windy notes
whispering its secret;
this hidden space,
calling me to
invade this quiet domain
to share this secret
while the branches sway --
enclosing safely
around me.

Just an update.

WOW! The past month has flown by with a velocity I did not know time had. It is already August. My mind is running at full speed, faster than i can truly comprehend. I have so much to get done in such a short amount of time that I am stalling on some items. But the whole purpose in my move to the eternal land of sunshine is approaching fast.

Yes, I am still moving to Pasadena. Yes, I am still planning on attending seminary this fall. In fact, I recently received my class schedule for the next two years, and it will be hectic and intense. But I know that I am going to enjoy the next journey of my life. My apartment is ready and I can move in anytime. I have been in contact with my community coordinators. I have even had a job interview for a work study position. Everything keeps moving forward.

My mind is in a whirlwind of all the things yet to be accomplished. The address changes, the packing, the unpacking, the settling in, meeting new people, finding a new church home...I still have lots to do. But I hope to write a little bit more so y'all can keep up with me.

I will write more later.

Hurdle Race.

I remember my good old track days of junior high when I thought I enjoyed the sport of running. (I know that it is a complete mental thing that I do not like running.) I quickly learned in the early days of track that I do not enjoy the long distance treks around the track with distances of 200, 400, 800, or more meters. Just writing those words still makes me cringe at the thought of running those laps. The shorter sprint options did not scare me so and those I quickly volunteered for. I was assigned the hurdles and set out to learn the art of jumping over a waist-high barrier while never losing my stride or footing. Sometimes I flew over those hurdles with such precision that every jumped worked great. Other times I jumped too early and lost momentum, and other times I jumped too late and hit it. I suffered a few scrapes and bruises from those days. Red dirt definitely is not the color for me. But despite the hurdles that I could see, I always knew that the finish line was a short distance away and that finish line was my goal.

The memories of those days have come back to haunt me when I received an email from a friend. I know there is a lesson to be learned somewhere in the midst of those memories of days gone by so let me see if I am willing to learn today. My friend, who has been an amazing source of prayer and encouragement for me, wrote that he was excited at what the Lord is doing and will do in my life. Should I tell you what my first thought was? My first thought was, “well, I am glad someone is.” because right now, I am not jumping up and down with pure delight and excitement at the stage that is ahead. Do not get me wrong. I am looking forward to what is ahead but I see the hurdles that are there. These hurdles are not surprises nor are they hidden. They are plain, big, and right before my eyes. They do not hide the end; they will just make the finish line a bit more challenging to reach.

I am grateful for my friend who is cheering me on in the journey ahead. He reminds me of those teammates who would stand at different points along the track, rooting, cheering, and yelling me on during the race. As the one running, there are times that I did not want to get to the starting line. I did not want to get myself set to go. I did not want to even take a step. Sometimes I wanted to get a false start so I would not have to run, but those were the moments I closed my eyes, erasing the world before me, focused on the end, tuned my ears to the hear the voices cheering me on, and waited for the signal.

I know my race. The starting line has been drawn. The finish line has been stretched. The hurdles are placed. I have been trained, prepped, and encouraged to run it. My heart still pounds because I know I have to run it and overcome the hurdles. But I am willing. I take my place, I close my eyes, I wait for my signal.

Flying home.

The week flew with amazing speed that it seems somewhat unreal that I am already at the airport to return home once again. My week was filled with such activity that my brain is still wrapping itself around all the events of the week. But it was such a great week!

My nephew was so much fun. All he wanted was time with his “Auntie Kara.” I will admit I spoiled him just a tad. Hopefully he won’t drive too many people crazy with talk of his new Hulk toy and not hit too many people with his new green light saber. (I could not stop myself. I had to get him the toys. That is what I am suppose to do, right? I am his aunt.) I also saw my new niece Audrey and my other nephew Braedin. I loved just holding Audrey after seeing so many pictures of her. Lunches with friends and movie nights…it was an awesome week.

There are two things that I will take with me from this trip. One of them I am overwhelmed at its truth and the other one is a confirmation that is still settling deep inside. The first truth is how loved I am by the people I know. I am overwhelmed by the willingness of others to spend time with me and the desire of others who wanted to meet up with me. Truthfully, I love people and hanging out with them. So I have not thought twice about their feelings towards me. I do not see myself as more special than the person next to me so this past week was so amazing as hugs, requests, smiles, joy were expressed towards me. I wish my vacation extended longer than just this week but I am leaving Des Moines feeling so loved and special.

The second thing was the realization that Des Moines is not home anymore. I have lived in Iowa for twenty-eight years of my life and lived over fifteen years in Des Moines. I knew coming back would be a weird experience as familiarity would be around every corner yet something new would also exist. I was not fully expecting the sense of knowing that I was not home to come over me the moment I landed at the airport. This past week was fun as I visited old haunts of mine, eating at restaurants that are no longer available to me, and seeing familiar faces, yet deep inside I knew that I was no longer home. God had prepared my heart, mind, and soul for this transition. When I resigned over a year ago, it was at God’s guidance that I did so. I moved forward in the path that he has designed for me. I realized that no matter where I go in this life, home will always be the place that God has led me. Granted I would not have chosen California as my first choice of home but God’s peace rests deep inside at the truth that He led me there. This place is now my home. Now, the time has come for the major move ahead and whatever lies ahead.

Grey sheets of water.

One thing that I miss very much is the rumbling noise of the darken skies. California has rain yet it does not have the dark, gathering clouds that announce the beginning of momentary or lasting sheets of grey that pour from the skies. Last night, I heard the gentle rumble of the approaching thunderstorm. Excitement grew in me as the noise increased and the storm came closer and closer. I love thunderstorms.

I headed out to meet up with a friend when I saw an amazing sight. The sun had not yet retired for the night and it was hanging low in the horizon. Yet the skies above were dark and brooding, casting a night feel so early in the evening. I drove west to meet my friend when I caught a glimpse of an unusual site…a deep gray sky with its announcing storm and an orange-glowing sun pushing through the clouds to grant forth its last rays before the horizon called it to bed. It was so unusual yet vibrant that it caught my attention, which truly was not good since I was driving through rain and the rain was falling hard. How I wish I could have had my camera to take that shot!

Vacation blurs.

June 24th, 2008

I made it to the fair Midwest city of Des Moines. My flights were really good and quick. I even landed early in Des Moines and was able to arrive at my brother’s house in time for dinner. I was lucky to get a window seat on my flight from Minneapolis and Des Moines. As we began our descent into the area, I began to pear anxiously out the window, hoping to see familiar landmarks. It did not take long for the site below me to become known and I excitedly began to point out various sites.

This might sound crazy to some but the sight when I landed was beautiful. To the north I saw the dark grey-blue clouds of a typical thunderstorm while the sight to the south was clear, blue skies with sun streaming down to the earth. But the most magnificent sight was a rainbow that painted the darkness with its spray of color. Now this rainbow did not just peek through the clouds or dot a small section of the sky. No, this rainbow was a full arc stretching from the west to the east, vibrant in its display of colors. I was just in awe. It was beautiful.

The airport personnel was quick in the work for by the time I reached the luggage area, the luggage from our flight was already traveling on the conveyor belt and I quickly found mine. I headed to the car rental to receive the keys to the car, headed out to the parking lot, loaded my suitcase and headed on my way.

I pulled up to my brother’s house, dragged myself to the front door, heard the familiar sound of their dog Gio, and walked in the door. The first thing I heard was a voice chanting, “Auntie Kara is here, Auntie Kara is here.” My nephew was jumping up and down with excitement that I had finally arrived. Then he gave me my hug!

Sunday went by in a blur. I went to my old home church and I never made it into service. I kept getting a few feet before another friend spotted me. It was so good to see everyone and give them hugs and play catch up.

I still have plenty of week left.

Waiting for the start.

Arising out of the fog of the land of dreams, I heard the click of my alarm clock as the set time for my day started. Shaking off the fading memories of my misty thoughts, I struggled to get up, despite the knowing reason for the early morning alarm. I was heading back, back to the past, back to a time that I once lived and breathed every day for most of my life. I was going to Des Moines.

Rushing through my morning routine and packing the last minute items, I was very aware of the approaching minutes of my departure to San Francisco. I heard the rap of fingers on my door as I quickly hid in my closet to finish dressing. I knew the time was near. My father would be waiting downstairs ready to give me a hard time if I was a few minutes late. I take his teasing in jest because my father is known to be late at times as well.

With suitcase in hand, backpack slung over the shoulder, I went to the car. The drive over was with ease and the land that I barely set eyes on rose before me. It was not long before I saw the stretch of blue-gray that marked the south end of the bay, announcing my arrival to the fair and exciting city of San Francisco and thus bringing me to the point of transportation that will take me on the first leg of my journey.

The airport is fairly quiet for this early morning. Passengers are scattered here and there but it is not crowded or overwhelming for the moment. Security was a breeze and I flew right on through in a few minutes. I did set off the alarm because I forgot that my cell phone was in my pocket. But other than that, I was through and went to find my gate.

Now, I sit in the row of open seats by my gate. I have another hour before I can board my flight. I have still another flight to catch at the end of this one. But soon, I will be in my brother’s house, wrapped in the arms of a little boy who has captured my heart since the day he was born. I am looking forward to my Ashton-squeeze.

Praise or Pout.

Everyday I discover that I have a choice on the attitude that I want to have for the day. Some people do not think that we do but we do. We can choose our attitude and response to the events in our lives.

As a Christian, my desire is to be like Christ and live His example in everything I do and say. Easier said than done. The desire to be like Christ and actually act it out on a regular basis is tough. Many days my attitude of my selfish nature collides with the attitude of an eternal Saviour.

This past Saturday was another collision between my human nature and my pursuit for the divine. I had just arrived at my weekend job and the new schedule was up for the MONTH! I was not happy with the shifts I was given. I work two jobs so some weeks I work seven days a week and after awhile I just get tired. Last Saturday I was tired after working over 40 hours and six days that week between the two jobs. And both my jobs are totally customer service related so I am constantly dealing with customers, their requests and sometimes their lovely attitudes. To rejuvanate myself, I need moments to myself in order to be ready to serve.

So when I read the schedule, I was so irritated. Come on, my manager knows that I work another job and she should take that into consideration when making the schedule, right? I was complaining to a fellow co-worker when I was stopped in the middle of my conversation with the thought that I could either praise God or I could selfishly pout. (Don't you just love it when God throws a lesson right into your face?) So I stopped my tired, selfish tirade and choose to praise God that I had the extra hours which means I would make a little extra money that I thought which would help pay for my vacation home. I felt better and went to work.

Not ten minutes later was that same attitude pressed when I had to help customers who had no idea how to use a computer, how to find CD's or I had to let them into the bathroom. And that attitude was tested again a few days later when my schedule was changed and I was given another shift in an already crazy week.

I know it is not easy to praise God when I am tired or stressed. I know that it is not easy to praise God when the path does not go my way and I would rather pout in defiance and self-righteous than praise God that He is still on the throne no matter what is going on. But I find out that when I praise God for the blessings He has given me and praise Him just because He is God, my day and my attitude are so much better and I am more open to allow God to use me to touch another person's life.

So I will wake up today and I will make a decision. Will I praise or will I pout?