I’m happy to say that this year (as opposed to most years), I’m nearly done my Christmas shopping already. I have a few things yet to pick up, but all the tricky ones are handled. I’m feeling on top of things there. Mostly. 😉 And as I talk with my kiddos about the real meaning of Christmas and all that fun stuff, I can’t help but think about the gifts I’m most grateful for.

I totally neglected to post on Thanksgiving (though I’d meant to, LOL), so I figured I’d take a few minutes now, halfway between the holidays, to give thanks for those gifts that make my life worth living.

Sometimes it just hits me anew how blessed I’ve been in my family life. God put me in a loving, amazing family growing up. One that protected without being overbearing. One that nurtured without stifling. One that provided fun as well as life-lessons to remember. My parents taught me to love God and follow Jesus, to chase after my dreams, and to always be myself. They somehow raised me to be secure in exactly who I was, so long as I was following the path the Lord wanted me on. I am so, so grateful for my family.

Then I happened to meet the man of my dreams at a very young age. Oh, that caused some nay-saying back then, to be sure. In this day and age, it just isn’t expected that you meet your soul mate at 15 and get married at 18 (by choice, not by shotgun, LOL). But David and I knew what we wanted and needed, and I don’t regret a moment of the last eleven and a half years of marriage. I am so, so blessed to have a husband who not only loves me but understands me. Who supports my every dream and encourages my every goal. No matter what comes and goes in this life, I know he’ll be beside me every moment he can be. And I am so grateful for that rare and precious gift.

And then the children God has given me! Goodness, I know most parents think the exact same thing, but these little people are just amazing. Sure, I get frustrated with them. But when I take a step back and really look at who they are, I can’t believe the sweet hearts they have, the Joy, the delight. They really are the lights in our lives, and I’m so, so proud of them. And grateful for every hug and cuddle, for every grin and giggle.

Then I look back over the years I’ve traveled to get to where I am, over the tears and letdowns in an attempt to build a career, and then at the place I’ve ended up. Not that I’m now a best-selling, raving success or anything, but I’m here. Where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m working with an editor who believes in me, with a house that believes in me, on projects that excite us all. I’m working as an editor with amazing authors whose stories leave me breathless. And I’m finally “supporting my habit,” as I call it. 😉

I have so much. So much to be grateful for, so many gifts that I’ve received, gifts that I never would have put on my list for Santa, but which far surpass that bike I had to have or the doll that was utterly necessary at age 7.

Don’t get me wrong, I love that new Dyson vacuum cleaner that just arrived yesterday, and all the other gifts my family blesses me with each year. 😉 But at the end of the day, when the new pots are in the cabinet and the new shirt is stained and worn, I can settle on my couch with the man I love and think, “Wow, Lord. You’ve given me love. You’ve given me family. You’ve given me my dreams. Please show me what I can give back to You to show You that Your love is what I prize above all.”

 Two weeks ago I brought up callings. And in the responses I got, I realized that I probably should have used different terminology, because while what I’ve been thinking about does encompass that lofty idea of “my Calling,” it’s not just about that. It’s about wherever we are right now.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of society we’ve become. Everything is so instant these days, isn’t it? From mashed potatoes to messaging. We expect answers fast, we expect results fast. And so when things take time–as in, pray for years and years kind of time–we often give up. A disconnect has formed between our input and our output–we see things all the time on the news that makes us go, “Wow, something should be done!” … But we don’t really know what to do about it. 

As I’ve pondered this and looked to history (as we all know I always do, LOL) for answers, I really think the key is to change our perspective. It needs to start with our prayers–and I’ll be honest, this is a tough one for me. I say prayers on the fly as needs are presented, but so rarely do I find a quiet time to seek the Lord before I hear the needs, independently of specific requests. Which I need to fix. Because let’s face it, who wants to be in a relationship where you only talk when you need something? Sigh. Not me.

So I’m making an effort. And as I do, I’m adding a new prayer. It’s pretty simple. It just says, “Show me how to serve today, Lord.”

Now, this hasn’t resulted in any crystalline echoes of “Go here and do this life-altering thing.” To be expected. Because if I want to help a change come, in my life or my church or my community, I have to start with the little things, the inside things. I have to listen to those whispers that show me first how to be a good wife, a good mom, a good me.

And then…then I have to look. Look for the path He wants me trodding. Look for ways to help. Look for ways to serve. I can’t expect to just go on with my everyday life until some perfect opportunity to show the love of the Lord appears before me. Oh, those will come every now and then. But if I go out seeking? If I go through each day looking for ways to help others? If I think about that before I think about me? If we all do? 

Hmm. Doesn’t it just make you wonder what might happen?

I’m going to be thinking a lot about this over the next few months, and I’m going to be talking to people far better at it than I, people who have made a real, quiet difference in the lives of others. I’m going to be sharing these stories in a monthly column in Book Fun Magazine, and I’m going to be praying. Praying that we all push the “pause” button. Praying that we blink away the haze of instant-this and immediate-that. Praying that we finally look. Not just at what needs done. But at what we can do.

What’s your calling?

A few simple words, but a whole world of meaning, isn’t it? To what has the Lord called you? It doesn’t have to be something grand. He could have called you to accounting. To farming. He could have called you to raising kids. Maybe He called you clean your church once a week. It doesn’t have to some awesome-sounding ministry, but I feel strongly that we all have something the Lord has called us to.

Mine’s easy–I’ve known I was called to write pretty much all my life. So . . . then what? What do I do with that knowledge? Well, I write. In my case, I write books and I blog. But what kind of books? What kind of blogs?

My husband and I were talking about callings last night, and in the course of our discussion it occurred to me that having a calling you recognize doesn’t mean you do it as you should. I could be writing books that are simple and easy. I could be churning out stories that fit what I was told years ago were marketable. I could be writing stories that make no attempt to glorify the Lord. I could be writing only what I want instead of what I should be.

In a few months, I’m going to doing a blog series that ties in with Ring of Secrets on ordinary heroes. See, that was what set the Culper Ring apart–they were just everyday people serving where they had been called. In their store, on their farm, in the military. But they were serving there with a heart open to what the Lord might ask of them. And so these folks ended up taking risks that could have gotten them lynched–not by dropping everything and running off to some big task, but by serving where they’d been placed.

So how do we translate that to today? How do we, now, serve where we’ve been placed in a way that can make a difference? Not a rhetorical question here–it’s one I’m going to be thinking a lot about over the next few months.

And I want to start with gathering some answers to that first question. What’s your calling? In its most simple form, what has the Lord asked you to do? Please share!

It’s so easy to point fingers, isn’t it? From something as small as “Look what you made me do!” to the bigger “Don’t blame me–I voted for the other guy.”

This is a problem I’ve recognized in myself for years–not so much in politics, LOL, but in little things. It’s not my fault for neglecting things, it’s the fault of whoever distracted me. It’s not my fault we didn’t have that conversation, I tried but you put me off. It’s not my fault this venture isn’t growing; I’m doing my part, now you need to pick up the slack.

It’s so, so easy to fall into this trap. And something I’ve been thinking about again after reading a really aggravating kids book. I picked it up at the Library expecting it to be whimsical and fun, since it had a cute little picture of dragons on the cover. But it wasn’t–it was an environmentalist sermon that basically told kids, “Do you know any dragons who are destroying our world by not recycling? Sic ’em!”

Yeah, um–not what I’m trying to teach my little ones, thank you very much. I want to teach them to be responsible, but not to play the blame game. Not to point fingers. I have a hard enough time convincing them not to blame each other for every little thing, I don’t need picture books telling them it’s okay to do that so long as you slap a cute picture on it first.

And of course, elections bring it up too. It seems like so often the two sides of the aisle do nothing but blame the other for what they see as the woes we’re facing. They get angry, they get upset, and they can’t (or perhaps don’t try?) to understand that opposite point of view. The result? A nation divided.

It makes me so sad. I hate when I see this tendency in myself, I try so very hard to teach my kids not to fall into that same destructive way of thinking, because let’s face it–all that ever does is destroy relationships and keep your focus, always, on yourself. As long as it’s someone else’s fault, then I don’t have to fix anything.

But that approach doesn’t work. It doesn’t work in our nation, in our states, in our communities, in our churches, in our families, or in our marriages. It does–not–work. We cannot ever think “If only I could change him/her/them…” No. We can only change ourselves. And until everyone sees that they need to change themselves, until we all take responsibility for our own actions and lack of actions, then this disease is going to keep on spreading.

We have to stop thinking “If only they would…” and start praying “Lord, help me to…” We have to stand up. We have to then fall to our knees. And we have to start changing from the inside (ourselves) out.