Inside: Do you struggle for words when praying for grieving friends? Try asking God to help them in areas that were difficult for you during your own seasons of sorrow.
I don’t have specific stats to back this up, but it seems as if the first few months of 2023 have been marked by an onslaught of grief and loss.
Off the top of my head, I can think of five people I know who lost close loved ones, three of them unexpectedly. And that was just over a few weeks in January and February.
Inside: When there’s so much that divides us, a catchy message on a T-shirt can highlight what we have in common if we simply take the time to notice. ~
I was getting ready to check out at Kohl’s when I noticed a woman near the front of the store peering at me as if she knew me. I didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t stop her from coming over to where I stood.
“I love your T-shirt,” she said.
“Oh … thank you!” I said, glancing down to see what my shirt said. (Yep, I should have known.)
“Easily distracted by plants.”
The message describes me to a T (pun intended). And I’m not the only one, apparently.
Nearly every time I wear this particular shirt, gifted to me by my husband who knows firsthand how applicable it is, people stop me to tell me how much they like it.
I don’t mind, though.
Maybe I take after my outgoing Italian mom, or perhaps I learned it from my extroverted daughter. Whatever the case, despite my introverted nature, I enjoy interacting with strangers at stores.
And especially these days, when there’s so much that divides us or could potentially tear us apart, I love that a simple message on a T-shirt can highlight what we have in common.
It’s not limited to hobbies like gardening, either.
Another favorite T-shirt has the words faith, hope and love emblazoned down the front. People stop me about this one too. At Sam’s Club, at Wal-Mart, at the check-in desk at the early voting place.
In my mind, wearing the shirt is similar to drawing an icthus in the sand, like early believers did as a way to identify one another.
It doesn’t blare Christianity. Most people don’t even notice it, in fact. But when someone sees my shirt and makes a point to say something, it clues me into the fact that—at one level or another—we share some key values.
It also makes me wonder. Could it really be that simple? Could the unassuming act of wearing a T-shirt open doors, build bridges, cross lines, maybe even start up an unlikely friendship?
I’d like to think so.
We don’t have to think alike about every issue, or even most of them. If we’re paying attention, though, I think we can find pieces of common ground here and there.
We’ve all heard the saying, “Be the good you want to see in the world.”
Maybe we could start by wearing the good we want to see in the world.
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Do you have a “message T-shirt” that brings people out of the woodwork to talk to you? Have you ever commented on the words on a stranger’s shirt? Please share in the comments …
♥ Lois
When there’s so much that divides us these days, I love that a simple message on a T-shirt can highlight what we have in common. Share on X Could the unassuming act of wearing a T-shirt open doors, build bridges, cross lines, maybe even start up an unlikely friendship? Share on XInside: A week that went sideways, a growing list of loves, a favorite Psalm and learning to trust on the cusp of a new season.
I’ve spent the last several days on the couch, resting my way through the various phases of a sickness I’ve not had previously and certainly didn’t expect to get last week.
The coming days likely will bring an uptick in articles about how the world has changed in three years and where we are now and what it all means. I have a few thoughts and feelings about that myself. Right now, though, I’m just grateful that my inevitable turn with Covid has been mostly unremarkable.
Inside: How an old snapshot of me and my dad helped me appreciate my mom more. And how growing older or losing parents can alter our perspectives and enable us to reframe memories in a healing way.
When I visited my aunt in Wisconsin last September, I was drawn to a thick album of family history on a shelf near her favorite reading chair.
My parents had a similar binder full of photocopied pictures and family memories in their home. But I had always skipped over the photos and gone straight to the written material when I looked at it.
Inside: The spiritual anchor that helps us loosen our grip on our plans and release the details of our lives back into the hands of the only One who knows exactly what we need. ~
Certain seasons of life bring a greater urgency to our prayers.
When life hangs in the balance, chaos swirls, and we face more questions than answers.
When we’re watching on the sidelines, quietly—perhaps desperately—hoping for God to intervene in a loved one’s life, praying that they will respond when He does.
In the waiting room—when we have a dream that seems like it will never be fulfilled, and the fulfillment of it is largely out of our control.
It was during a season like that last one, when Randy and I were struggling with infertility, that I first learned to pray for God’s will to be done, not mine. It became a spiritual anchor, this phrase that Mitford author Jan Karon calls the “prayer that never fails.”
I’ve come back to it over and over in the years since. It helps me to loosen my grip on my expectations and anxieties, to release the gritty details of my life back into the hands of the One who knows precisely what I need and has promised to fulfill His purposes for me (and you too).
Your will be done.
I’ve been praying for many things over the last several months. Overall, though, life has been pretty calm and uneventful.
In other words, it’s been quite some time since I felt the urge to pray this particular prayer regularly and fervently.
Then a quiet, peace-filled December was followed by a January that hurled various bits of unexpected at us. I don’t know about you, but even normal life transitions can throw me off, especially if they seemingly come out of nowhere and I don’t know how they’re going to end up.
We’ve had a few of those going on, plus another more serious (though not life-threatening) issue to navigate.
Then one day, I remembered the prayer that never fails. Not that I had forgotten it, as one forgets the name of an old acquaintance or what one had for Sunday dinner three months ago.
As I said earlier, however, I hadn’t prayed it consistently for a while.
May your will be done, not mine.
Deuteronomy 32:7 says, “Remember the days of old; consider the years long past. Ask your father, and he will tell you, your elders, and they will teach you.”
I came across this verse after I chose remember to be my OneWord for 2023. As I think back on seasons of my life long past, a few things stand out. God’s faithfulness, for one, and also what happens in my mind and heart when I remember to pray “thy will be done.”
I suppose it goes without saying, but I’ll tell you anyway. The phrase is back in my daily prayers again, calming my heart and helping me to deposit my cares directly into God’s hands, right where they belong.
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Have you ever “remembered” something that helped you in years past just as you were wondering how to deal with a current situation? Is there a particular verse or phrase from scripture that centers your heart and helps you release your cares to Jesus in prayer? Please share in the comments …
♥ Lois
Even normal life transitions can throw me off, especially if they seemingly come out of nowhere and I don’t know how they’re going to end up. Share on X 'Thy will be done' is back in my daily prayers again, calming my heart and helping me to deposit my cares directly into God’s hands, right where they belong. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
Inside: There’s an important difference between grief and disappointment, and here’s why it matters.
On Sunday, the Kansas City Chiefs take on the Philadelphia Eagles in the Super Bowl. The last time the Chiefs played in the NFL championship, the match didn’t go so well for our boys in red. That loss prompted the following thoughts about disappointment, and how it relates to grief.
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I’m not the most rabid football fan in the world, but I still remember how glum I was the day after the Super Bowl in 2021—possibly the worst game the Kansas City Chiefs had played in several years. Recalling the joy and ecstasy that swept over Kansas City when the team won the Super Bowl in 2020 made the disappointment even more poignant.