tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51491623779376835512024-03-05T04:30:26.536-06:00The Dance of the Devoted DaughterI am a wife, mother and friend. But above all, I am a daugther of the king seeking to please Him through this dance called life.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-75825138949855276712010-05-24T10:49:00.003-05:002010-05-24T11:15:27.430-05:00Why being a stay at home mom (SAHM) is the hardest thing I've ever done<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHm2vMwS-VcFB4YutvhFmx9axIPW35-vhtxPHQSmY7rYRfDStL2KUpXTsaLDQ_hORF7azoUquppsXMKATctV7UOiMKTGDZEKLdEl1_lKSfM9igneHsT8Nn18UMBTTq7g5u3RuSMgBvHgFj/s1600/April+and+May+082.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474870747038662978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHm2vMwS-VcFB4YutvhFmx9axIPW35-vhtxPHQSmY7rYRfDStL2KUpXTsaLDQ_hORF7azoUquppsXMKATctV7UOiMKTGDZEKLdEl1_lKSfM9igneHsT8Nn18UMBTTq7g5u3RuSMgBvHgFj/s200/April+and+May+082.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I've been a SAHM for the last 8 years. While I've held some part time jobs in that time, they were all tailored to being available to kids. It is the hardest thing I've ever done. Here's why: </div><br /><ul><br /><li><strong>Noise.</strong> I really like quiet and kids aren't quiet. Even those few precious moments a day when they are asleep aren't truly quiet. Someone is up and down to go the bathroom. Someone has music playing and I have one that talks in her sleep. </li><br /><li><strong>Constancy.</strong> There are no breaks in the day when you are keeping up with three kids. Someone needs something almost all the time. Usually, all three need something at one time. My three year old can invent trouble in the blink of an eye and requires constant supervision. I would like a scheduled break in the day...30 minutes to eat, or even 5 minutes to go the bathroom all by myself. </li><br /><li><strong>Immediacy.</strong> I am someone who is slow to make a decision. Not always because I am hesitant or fearful but usually because I play everything through in my mind before I decide which way to go. When I decide what to eat for breakfast, it is because I have already planned lunch and dinner in my head. Kids do not allow that luxury. If someone is dangling upside from the fort, 6 feet off the ground, they need correction and help getting down immediately. When someone is strangling someone else with the wii-mote, instant reactions are required. </li><br /><li><strong>Competing information.</strong> There are a lot of people out there who think they know the one way to raise a child. And I've probably read their book. But the truth is that each of my kids is really different and requires a slightly different approach. One child is entirely motivated by a desire to please. Another could care less about pleasing us as long as she has physical affection. We are still trying to figure out what motivates the little one. But the point is all of those theories are really different about how to raise your kids and they often are in opposition to each other. </li><br /><li><strong>Playing.</strong> I'm a really serious person, admittedly too serious. I'm not good at playing. I wasn't even good at playing when I was a kid. Coming up with fun and being fun all the time wear me out. I'd really much rather read a book than play a game. I'd rather work in my garden than draw with sidewalk chalk. I find it exhausting to force myself into play. </li><br /><li><strong>Significance.</strong> I believe that raising my kids is really important. In fact, I believe that it is so important that it brings out my need to be perfect. I want to do it right. I love these kids so deeply that I desperatly want to raise them to be the amazing people that I see in them. While I struggle along, I worry about messing them up or doing something wrong. My perfectionism can be paralyzing at times when I am so afraid of doing the wrong thing that I do nothing at all. </li></ul><br /><p>Being a SAHM is certainly the most challenging thing I have ever done in my life. It requires skills that I don't possess and strengths that mystify me. </p><br /><p>What about you? What is challenging to you about parenting?</p><br /><div></div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-40390206086344835692010-01-19T10:16:00.003-06:002010-01-19T10:36:28.871-06:00Missional ChurchFor the last 3 years, I have participated in conversation regarding the "Missional" church idea. At it's core, missional church is about engaging the world around the church for the intentional purpose of service. Missional church says that the church can no longer hide behind its walls or bury its head in the proverbial sand.<br /><br />While I agree wholeheartedly that the church should be about engaging the world, I have long felt like some part of this idea didn't sit well with me. When you are part of a frenzy of new ideas and building momentum, it is hard to stop and name the misgiving. But, after 5 months of being introduced to and encouraged to practice contemplative prayer, those concerns have finally crystallized into words.<br /><br />We are missing the heart.<br /><br />Missional church, as I've seen it presented and defended, is all about action. It is motivated by our guilt at having ignored this call of Jesus for so long.<br /><br />The heart of missional church should be that we have sat and listened to the heart of God and therefore been moved by God's love for the hurting and marginalized of our world. In other words, we have to formed to be like God in order to be motivated to bring God into the hurting people around us.<br /><br />Too much of the missional conversation is all or nothing. "Your church is only missional if all you do minister to the poor." That sounds like Good Will to me, not the church. "Your church will die in 20 years of less if you don't go missional." Where in scripture do we encounter the idea tha that we are to live and react out of fear? Pendulum swing theology never fully captures the life of Christ being lived out in human beings. Instead, it reveals our deepest fear of fully surrendering the mysterious sovereignty of the One we claim to worship.<br /><br />The truly missional church has spent time being formed into the image of Christ by being near the heart of God so that they are compelled by love and mercy to reach out to hurting people.<br /><br />Have faith! God has sustained the church, in spite of it's many failings, for these many years in order to continue the mission of Redemption. I don't anticipate that nature changing any time soon.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-70837526312925977772009-12-03T08:12:00.004-06:002009-12-03T08:26:24.073-06:00Prayer for Christmas<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ks3qnZ9cj_JdcAR4y0ffnc3lZDj855yp2RUVfB8Her9LZxkzmLMTyAbtlP-FMsIcx38qr8Uwnqtt5XC2UYAMDkyD1jNdzBjVq33v3rbmIOMFNfNcJZAIbixybKO2dE27U26Ld1_Hy9VK/s1600-h/DSC00909.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 299px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411015974500613234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ks3qnZ9cj_JdcAR4y0ffnc3lZDj855yp2RUVfB8Her9LZxkzmLMTyAbtlP-FMsIcx38qr8Uwnqtt5XC2UYAMDkyD1jNdzBjVq33v3rbmIOMFNfNcJZAIbixybKO2dE27U26Ld1_Hy9VK/s200/DSC00909.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:+0;"></span>O Season of Light</div><br /><div>Shine down on us</div><br /><div>Reminding us of the Source of Light</div><br /><div>Warming us with love. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u9JiBaZbYvuNUFZy4ZJ34K4QF_jRjk8kuDt4JJXlgJ9pKOezJPWtKeKelBPXEsjrCVCMyI9gLtmrrRaHNzINtKNDeh_OBkoCmKMqdDGOdWzvjXsPhJ6ZjgQLGWp13-clM5Pu7eHELgH3/s1600-h/DSC00909.JPG"></a></div><br /><div>O Season of Light</div><br /><div>Shine among us</div><br /><div>Reminding us of the Power of Light</div><br /><div>Drawing us toward unity.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>O Season of Light</div><br /><div>Shine from within us</div><br /><div>Reminding us of the Intimacy of Light</div><br /><div>Driving out our darkness.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>O Season of Light</div><br /><div>Attract us with beauty</div><br /><div>Blind us with tangible love</div><br /><div>Eng<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u9JiBaZbYvuNUFZy4ZJ34K4QF_jRjk8kuDt4JJXlgJ9pKOezJPWtKeKelBPXEsjrCVCMyI9gLtmrrRaHNzINtKNDeh_OBkoCmKMqdDGOdWzvjXsPhJ6ZjgQLGWp13-clM5Pu7eHELgH3/s1600-h/DSC00909.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 24px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 4px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411013851879075122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u9JiBaZbYvuNUFZy4ZJ34K4QF_jRjk8kuDt4JJXlgJ9pKOezJPWtKeKelBPXEsjrCVCMyI9gLtmrrRaHNzINtKNDeh_OBkoCmKMqdDGOdWzvjXsPhJ6ZjgQLGWp13-clM5Pu7eHELgH3/s200/DSC00909.JPG" /></a>ulf us with hope. </div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-37779146196100227142009-10-06T10:08:00.004-05:002009-10-06T10:18:42.099-05:00RememberThree years ago yesterday, I gave birth to our third child, a boy. He was and still is, precious! Bright, sweet, and empathetic. His favorite thing to do is sing with his daddy and that leaves my heart skipping a beat every Sunday morning. Caysson loves books, computers, and taking things apart. He can't live without his sisters' attention and will injure them to get it! He is a three year old boy and very good at it.<br /><br />But three years ago yesterday, also began a difficult journey for me. Six weeks after Caysson was born, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. Any credible physician will tell you that depression isn't caused by a single event but by pressure that builds over years and years to be triggered by an event. While I function every day and love my kids, I am still wrestling with the many pressures that exploded in the turmoil of hormones after giving birth.<br /><br />I write this today as a declaration that I choose life: full, abundant, joyful life. Choosing life means that I choose to leave poisonous things out and welcome in life-giving activity. It means that I decide every day, many times in a day, this over that.<br /><br />Choose life!Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-65321268222814446572009-09-14T13:41:00.002-05:002009-09-14T13:50:22.908-05:00HopeI do not buy into the whole positive thinking mindset. In fact, I find most of it annoying. I am a realistic kind of person and I don't see how thinking better thoughts about a situation will change it. I think in color and I assign this kind of thinking a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">garish</span> yellow. You know, the kind of color that burns itself into your eyeballs and gives you a headache.<br /><br />So, when I was asked to spend some time thinking about hope as a Christian virtue, I really struggled. I couldn't seem to separate hope from positive thinking. I wasn't even sure that hope was a biblical concept, (Okay, now I can remember where that is...Galatians, James and a few other hundred places) and in the moment wasn't sure if hope should be pursued.<br /><br />Now, I'm a step back from having the idea introduced again and wonder why my hope is so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">atrophied</span>. Here are just a few quotes that have me thinking about and puzzling over this idea of hope:<br /><br />"Hope is a positive and potent human faculty that must be distinguished from its dangerous sister, expectation, which steals us from the present and pushes us down the path of disappointment when things don't go our way."<br /><br />"What oxygen is to the lungs, such is hope to the meaning of life."<br /><br />"Everything that is done in the world is done by hope."<br /><br />What about you? Does hope come easily for you? Or do you fight to be hopeful? What color is hope to you?Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-125899358837985992009-09-11T09:34:00.003-05:002009-09-11T09:49:28.379-05:00RememberingThis is a day to remember. As a nation, we remember the lives that were lost. As individuals, we remember our involvement in that tragic day.<br /><br />8 years ago, today, I woke up at 3am with a knot in my stomach. I was 8 weeks pregnant and headed to the doctor to look for a heartbeat at 9am. Just two short months before, I had miscarried at this point. I remember trying to pray but really just putting words to my worry as I laid in bed. I fell back asleep around 5:30am and woke with a start at 7:30. The doctors office was at least a 45 minute drive in Houston rush hour so I started racing around to get ready.<br /><br />Chad and I were both so nervous that morning. We rushed around to get ready to leave- never turning on a radio or the TV. I tried to swallow some breakfast as we walked to the car. It hit my nervous stomach like a brick. As Chad was pulling out of the driveway, he turned on the radio, hoping to hear a traffic report soon.<br /><br />Our favorite Christian radio station in Houston was KSBJ. As a song was just beginning, the announcer cut in with news of the first tower being struck in New York City. We looked at each other in shock. We kept listening and heard that an airliner had hit the tower. About the time that news came out, we were driving past Bush International Airport. Traffic would stop as planes came over the highway and resume again when the skies were clear.<br /><br />When the news broke that the second tower had been hit, I remember telling Chad to pull over because I was going to throw up. Before we reached the doctor's office, the Pentagon was hit as well.<br /><br />The doctor's office was full of nervous looking people huddled around a radio, as there was no TV in the room. The nurse called us back and prepped me for a sonogram. Outside the room, I could hear the nurses talking about evacuating the medical center for fear of it being hit.<br /><br />While the news was horrible, it was still surreal. We hadn't seen any of it. We had only heard. Hearing was terrible but not real yet. I was still very focused on the sonogram at hand.<br /><br />We learned that day that Raemey Joy was on her way into the world. Her tiny little heart beat strong in that sonogram. She was coming! She was growing and alive!<br /><br />September 11, 2001 was a terrible day in the history of our country. But in my life, it was the day that life began as a mother.<br /><br />It as a day of hope in the midst of tragedy. <br /><br />And that is what remembering should be about: hope.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-42624045129286147502009-09-02T16:05:00.003-05:002009-09-02T16:33:10.594-05:00New Roads<a href="http://www.nyetwork.org/wiki/road.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 309px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 729px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.nyetwork.org/wiki/road.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I'm someone who gets bored easily. Daily routine is nice for about a week and then I am ready for something new. I need menus, workouts, expectations, and schedules to change a lot. Knowing exactly what is going to happen and when it is going to happen leaves me feeling fuzzy headed with totally met expectations. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now, don't get me wrong: I want to be the one who sees the need for and initiates change. I also want to be in charge of how it happens!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>In that light, I have chosen two new paths lately. First, I have begun the awesome task of serving as a leader for our church's women's ministry. This involves the chance to dream with some amazing women about what it would look like to release our women for ministry. I believe that God has great things in store for the women of Highland Oaks. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Secondly, I have started back to school. The plan had always been for me to finish my Mdiv work. But as I looked into it more, I could not get comfortable with the idea. Finally, I turned the whole thing over to prayer and just sat with it for several months. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>During that time, God lead me to some amazing books. One of them, "Joining Forces", was a life changing read for more reasons than I will list here. In that book I read the term 'spiritual direction' for the first time and was overwhelmed with the need to know more about. As I researched, the Spirit kept confirming that I was on a God-given path. That research led me to a training program based here in Dallas. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And so, last Saturday I sat through orientation. I turned in the first paper that I had written in years and received a syllabus. And the entire time, I couldn't stop grinning! This is a three year program and the entire first year is about spiritually forming the student by living in the spiritual disciplines as a community. I am so excited to go to class tomorrow! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I hope that you'll indulge me to share some about this journey with you. In the meantime, what new roads are you traveling?</div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-19694099863305036172009-08-25T07:56:00.005-05:002009-08-25T08:13:05.903-05:00First day of school<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFMjpv2XB0NOCuWGRDmOUNramtbyuUWs3U_arwG6jlmjhLfpNuB7q1R7jITaN9vtk1fmQlQEATlaZBqbQxatkGC0mo63gIfnSY56zvzTjab85TWGz5vq7x9qfXlJqFjqoaK5RPGDoM5VyV/s1600-h/DSC00693.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373888487132579490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFMjpv2XB0NOCuWGRDmOUNramtbyuUWs3U_arwG6jlmjhLfpNuB7q1R7jITaN9vtk1fmQlQEATlaZBqbQxatkGC0mo63gIfnSY56zvzTjab85TWGz5vq7x9qfXlJqFjqoaK5RPGDoM5VyV/s200/DSC00693.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Wow! Summer has come and gone! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>In some ways, I'm not sure what happened to it. In other ways, I am glad it is over. I loved the chance to play with my kids more and swim and eat ice cream but, the draw of freedom had given way to boredom. The kids had started using torturing one another for their favorite form of amusement. I don't know about you but it doesn't take long for me to grow weary of the teasing, fighting, and tears that follow!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>At the same time, it is bittersweet to send them back to school. I turn over the majority of their waking hours to other adults and children who I don't know well. It can be scary to think about influences that I wouldn't approve of having their ear for hours each day. I worry about other children being cruel. I fret over their teachers having so many children in a classroom. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And yet, the first day of school has become a beautiful day to reflect on all the ways that they have grown. I am amazed at these wonderful girls who are growing into young women before my eyes. I marvel at all the things they know and can do now that they haven't been able to before. I'm aware of how few and precious these years are that they are under my roof and in my care. These gifts from the hands of God himself rest in my arms and what an amazing gift they are! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Yes, I shed a few tears yesterday as I walked away from their classrooms for the first time. Not because I couldn't bear to leave them but because it was a moment on holy ground as I considered all that God had given me in their sweet lives and all the potential that exists in these faces that I love so deeply. </div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-72104494037130858732009-05-18T08:52:00.003-05:002009-05-18T09:09:31.674-05:00StoryI love a good story! I'm known for reading an entire book in a day because I get drawn in. I become very involved in the characters and emotionally invested in what happens to them. Just last night I was reading to my girls before bed. We have been reading "Charlotte's Web" together at night. Last night we read the chapter where Charlotte dies. I had to ask my husband to finish reading it because I kept crying! My girls thought I was crazy.<br /><br />After we put the kids to bed we turned on a movie. I know, we are behind in movie viewing, but we finally watched "Prince Caspian" in the Narnia series. I was mesmerized! I love fantasy and the whole series is an allegory to our lives in Christ. There were a two images that stuck with me and played out in my dreams last night. The first was Lucy running to hug and wrestle with Aslan. I cried. The innocence and deep love was evident. It was also beautiful. Then when the other three children came before Aslan, they looked ashamed and bowed low. The contrast is powerful.<br /><br />I have recently wondered why God chose to be revealed through story. While I find story compelling and emotionally involving, it is also a risky way to talk about yourself. There are so many ways that story can be understood and misunderstood. I still marvel at the sheer guts it takes to leave your story in the hands of people! I'm a writer; I know how dangerous that can be. But that is exactly what God chose to do. It astounds me.<br /><br />As I dreamed last night, I found myself kneeling before Aslan longing to hug him and feel the soft fur under my hands. The image is still fresh this morning. I want to be the child who is innocent enough to run toward God with open arms and expect to be picked up and held in love. I find myself as the adult who cowers in the shadows, afraid to be seen.<br /><br />Perhaps story allows us to interact with God in ways that seem far enough removed to keep us safe so that when we are ready, we will run out of the shadows to be embraced.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-36605596390778977442009-05-07T12:15:00.005-05:002009-05-07T12:33:52.168-05:00MommyhoodIt seems that this time of year calls for a post about motherhood. I have several confessions to make about Mother's Day:<br />1. I quietly dread this holiday as it reminds me of our first miscarriage that happened just days before Mother's Day 8 years ago. It seems <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ridiculous</span> to still grieve that loss in light of the three beautiful kids that I have given birth to, but I still grieve. That was the first time I knew how painful being a mother could be. The lesson was so sudden that it seared into my emotional memory.<br /><br />2. The ironic part of being a mother is that I expend a lot of time and energy preparing for a day that is supposed to give me time off! Just this morning, I mailed off gifts and cards to grandmothers and important women in my life. The humor of it doesn't escape me.<br /><br />3. Just as Christmas and Easter feel hollow without effort to see past the commercialism, I find this often to be a Hallmark holiday. I know that my children love and appreciate me. I make an effort to communicate my affection and gratitude to my mother often. This day can seem empty.<br /><br />4. Just as a tree with lights can't begin to capture the mystery of advent, a single Sunday in spring doesn't do justice to the mystery that is motherhood. There has never been any other part of my life that is more challenging and formative than becoming a mom. Giving birth did not make me a mother; I am still growing into one.<br /><br />5. I made a decision this year to honor women who were formative to me spiritually, women who nurtured me in ways that I wouldn't allow my own mother to. I also became aware of the spiritual mothers present in my children's lives. I want to honor them and hold them up in prayer.<br /><br />My challenge to you is this: spend Sunday honoring the journey that is motherhood, whether or not you take your mom out to lunch or buy her flowers. Pray over her, bless her. Nurture her spirit in the same ways that you have been nurtured.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-52663391857886581422009-04-16T08:18:00.000-05:002009-04-16T08:19:25.272-05:00On the moveEaster was never a big deal growing up. We didn’t have big family dinners or community egg hunts. Our church was of the persuasion that we celebrated Easter every Sunday so we shouldn’t make a big deal out of the actual day.<br /><br />I can remember one Easter when I planned my own egg hunt just to see what it would be like. I was the only kid invited…not my big brother…and I was the coordinator. I got plastic eggs, stuffed them with candy, and after lunch hid them in the yard. I played in my room for an hour, trying to forget where I had hidden them, and then went to get them. It wasn’t that much fun.<br /><br />However, since I married, Easter has taken on a whole new feel. Our church celebrates Easter as a time when people who wouldn’t normally come to church, do. So, we plan cool stuff in worship and have a big egg hunt for the kids. My husband’s family always had a big family dinner at Easter and all the cousins would hunt eggs in the backyard.<br /><br />I suppose it is some of the influence of growing up as I did but this year I really struggled to get in the right mindset for Easter. I chose to observe the Lenten season by asking the question, “Where have I gotten away from God?” As I sat in that question for 40 days, I was shocked to see where I had really pulled away from God.<br /><br />I had chosen to live in reality.<br /><br />I have chosen to see life through the lenses of the probable and logical, the lenses of rational thinking and levelheaded judgment. I had lost my faith glasses.<br /><br />As Easter morning dawned, dark and stormy at my house, I was still wrestling with the feeling that this was just like every other Sunday. My husband left long before dawned cracked, the kids had been up and down all night because of the storms, and I had to get all of us tired and cranky people ready and out of the door on time. I found myself asking God, “Why all the fuss? Why does today matter? Isn’t it just like every other Sunday?”<br /><br />As I began to get ready, resenting every movement I had to make as removing me farther and farther from my sleep, this thought settled over me. God is not dead. The tomb was empty then and it is empty now. It’s empty. But more than that, he came. He still comes. He is active. He is “on the move” as C.S. Lewis describes it. Easter matter because God still moves. He chose to engage humanity in the form of Jesus and he still chooses to engage all of humanity. God is hovering, just as he did in Genesis 1 and he is revealing himself just as he did to Moses on the mountain. God is still shaping the course and path of the human race, one person at a time.<br /><br />There is a new Chris Tomlin song with these lines, “There is a day that’s drawing near when this darkness fades to light and all the shadow disappear and my faith shall be my eyes.”<br /><br />It echoes in my mind.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-83153921319045969882009-03-30T08:51:00.000-05:002009-03-30T08:52:23.838-05:00ParenthoodChad and I have begun a kind of informal survey if you will. We want to know about other parents' journeys. Will you share your wisdom with us?<br /><br />1. What is your greatest strength in parenting? What are you really good at?<br />2. What has been your greatest victory so far?<br />3. What is something you want to change about how you parent?<br />4. How are you (or have you) instilling(ed) faith in your children?<br />5. What is the best advice you have ever gotten regarding parenting?<br />6. What is the worst advice you have ever gotten regarding parenting?<br />7. What do you pray for your children?<br />8. What mistakes have you made that you wish you could "undo"?<br /><br />If you have other things to share that have helped you on your journey or that you wish you had known, feel free to add them in here.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-45051123482948292462009-03-24T17:21:00.001-05:002009-03-24T17:23:44.523-05:00Fed UpI have had enough.<br /><br />Here is the whole truth…this male dominated society and church that we live in is sinful. It denies the reality that women are also made in the image of God to further His kingdom.<br /><br />But, a female dominated society and church would be wrong as well.<br /><br />Genesis tells us that God created them male and female, in His image. He walked with both of them in the cool of the day. He created them for one another, not in competition with one another.<br /><br />Humans tend to let pendulums swing from one extreme to another. When we’ve had enough of one thing we push too far the other way. For instance, when the women’s movement gained fuel in the 1960’s and 70’s, it took on a military stance of strength and a harsh, borderline violent edge. Man bashing became an acceptable sport.<br /><br />I am not created to be a spineless, brainless follower.<br /><br />I am also not created to be a power devouring fool.<br /><br />I am created to reflect the image of my Creator. <br /><br />The Jesus of the New Testament, the Son of God, came to redeem a fallen world back into relationship with His Father. He came for the whole world, not just the white males. Today’s church is Jesus to the world we occupy. So, what is this Jesus telling my daughters?Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-35525067596065191972009-03-02T11:41:00.002-06:002009-03-02T11:54:42.325-06:00LentHaving grown up in the churches of Christ, I didn't know anything about Lent. My hometown was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">dominantly</span> Mormon so I never witnessed the practice of Ash Wednesday.<br /><br />My first full time job was in a bookstore located in Houston. The store was owned by an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Episcopalian</span> woman who was a devout follower of Jesus. She came in to work one Wednesday morning in late February and said that she would be leaving at 10am for church. That was odd to me because she had never left during the work day for church before. Then when she came back, her forehead was dirty. I am so grateful for a store full of customers that kept me from inquiring about the dirty forehead before I saw a calendar and put it all together!<br /><br />Since that first, almost terrible, blunder with the season of Lent, I have become fascinated by the traditions of Lent.<br /><br />This year, I really wrestled with what to give up for Lent. As I wondered and Ash Wednesday was upon me, an article from Ruth Haley Barton's Transforming Center arrived. Here is a short excerpt from the article:<br /><br /><em>Unfortunately, the practice of entering into the Lenten season has often been reduced to the question: "What are you giving up for Lent?" This is a fine question, but it can only take us so far. The real question of the Lenten season is: How will I find ways to return to God with all my heart? This begs an even deeper question: Where in my life have I gotten away from God and what are the disciplines that will enable me to find my way back?</em> <br /><br />That is the real question that had plagued my heart. While it would be better for my weight if I gave up chocolate and better for my work if I gave up Facebook, what would call me more fully to God? That is the question that I am still pondering and invite you to ask as well.<br /><br />Where in your life have you gotten away from God and what disciplines will enable you to find your way back?<br /><br />That will take at least until Easter morning to answer completely.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-36949274057905564112009-02-24T13:31:00.002-06:002009-02-24T13:43:07.182-06:00The WallEveryone has defense mechanisms. They are ways of behaving that protect us when we feel threatened. Sometimes they are the result of childhood traumas. Sometimes they are just learned behaviors.<br /><br />I build a wall. When faced with emotional pain, I build a wall around my inner self brick by brick to keep everyone else out. If the pain continues, I coat the wall with steel. If the pain still persists, I begin to freeze all emotion. You know, like Tracy on Heroes. One touch and things freeze before shattering.<br /><br />I've been aware of this tendency in myself and have made a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">conscious</span> effort to keep myself interacting with people even when I am in pain. I am a private person by nature and enjoy keeping parts of my identity away from others. So, it takes real effort on my part to continue to put myself "out there". I don't want others to enter my pain; I want to keep it for myself.<br /><br />I felt the first bricks fall into place on Sunday. I have lived in emotional pain for nearly a year now and it became acute last Thursday. The only way that I anticipate survival is to shut down.<br /><br />I don't have a great application or insightful saying. I just hurt. And I'm trying not to.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-20795113671098777032009-02-16T21:11:00.002-06:002009-02-16T21:20:51.936-06:00BirthdayI turned 31 just a couple of weeks ago. For eight years now, I have celebrated my birthday with a tradition of adopting a Psalm for the year. I choose the one that corresponds to my new age and spend a year watching for all the ways God brings it to life.<br /><br />This year, on my birthday, I had the morning to myself. So, I sat down to read last year's Psalm and journaled for an hour about all the ways God had revealed himself to me in the year before. It as an overwhelming and wonderful experience. God is good to me.<br /><br />Here is my Psalm for this year:<br /><br />Psalm 31<br />For the director of music. A psalm of David. <br />1 In you, O LORD, I have taken refuge; let me never be put to shame; deliver me in your righteousness.<br /> 2 Turn your ear to me, come quickly to my rescue; be my rock of refuge, a strong fortress to save me.<br /> 3 Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me.<br /> 4 Free me from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge.<br /> 5 Into your hands I commit my spirit; redeem me, O LORD, the God of truth.<br /> 6 I hate those who cling to worthless idols; I trust in the LORD.<br /> 7 I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul.<br /> 8 You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place.<br /> 9 Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief.<br /> 10 My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak.<br /> 11 Because of all my enemies, I am the utter contempt of my neighbors; I am a dread to my friends— those who see me on the street flee from me.<br /> 12 I am forgotten by them as though I were dead; I have become like broken pottery.<br /> 13 For I hear the slander of many; there is terror on every side; they conspire against me and plot to take my life.<br /> 14 But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, "You are my God."<br /> 15 My times are in your hands; deliver me from my enemies and from those who pursue me.<br /> 16 Let your face shine on your servant; save me in your unfailing love.<br /> 17 Let me not be put to shame, O LORD, for I have cried out to you; but let the wicked be put to shame and lie silent in the grave.<br /> 18 Let their lying lips be silenced, for with pride and contempt they speak arrogantly against the righteous.<br /> 19 How great is your goodness, which you have stored up for those who fear you, which you bestow in the sight of men on those who take refuge in you.<br /> 20 In the shelter of your presence you hide them from the intrigues of men; in your dwelling you keep them safe from accusing tongues.<br /> 21 Praise be to the LORD, for he showed his wonderful love to me when I was in a besieged city.<br /> 22 In my alarm I said, "I am cut off from your sight!" Yet you heard my cry for mercy when I called to you for help.<br /> 23 Love the LORD, all his saints! The LORD preserves the faithful, but the proud he pays back in full.<br /> 24 Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-81054082633883004662009-02-03T11:32:00.004-06:002009-02-03T11:52:33.828-06:00On my mindI spent all day yesterday trying to decide which one of these ideas to blog about but I couldn't choose. So...<br /><br />1. In a matter of 10 days: I have found my first gray hair...with about 15 others. I have gotten my first traffic ticket EVER. I will turn 31. I am in transition overload!!!<br /><br />2. I have spent the last two weekends with different groups of people that I love dearly and trust deeply. They know the core of who I am and challenge me to live up to that. They pray with me, for me and over me. I am a better person after being with them and knowing that I walk this journey with all of them. They call Christ out in my life.<br /><br />3. I have never spoken politically on this blog. I feel the need to say this. My kingdom is not of this world but I have a duty as a Christian to pray for the well being of my human leaders. I recognize that each of them are in place as God has ordained and I pray for His will to be done under thier authority. Many of my fellow Christ followers have taken it upon themselves to pray against our newly elected president, forgetting that our hope, refuge, and well-being lie beyond his control. I would rather pray that the plans of God be accomplished.<br /><br />4. People are truly a mystery. They are not an equation that can be understood completely or made entirely predicatable. Maybe it's because we are made in the image of One so complex that we cannot fathom all that is within us.<br /><br />5. I am married to THE most amazing man in all the world. He was superdad for an entire weekend, while preparing to preach and participating in the future of our church, so that I could spend time with my college girlfriends (see #2). Here's a shoutout to you, baby! You are awesome!<br /><br />6. I often don't pray specifically because I am afraid of how God will answer my request. I am in a funky season of feeling really daring and just boldly asking what I really want. It feels crazy! And freeing!<br /><br />7. I am not grown up yet. I think that's why this birthday is a little unnerving. I am supposed to be the adult. But even this weekend, I discovered things about what motivates me and pushes me to succeed that I hadn't realized before. Aren't you supposed to know all that stuff by now?<br /><br />8. God took a huge risk in revealing Himself through story. There is a lot of room for interpretation surrounding story. Apparently, He's okay with that. I feel the need to make conclusive statements and lists about myself. Hmm...<br /><br />9. Twin Springs Texas Sweet Red is my absolute favorite wine right now. It would seem that a lot of you share that love because the warehouse for the Dallas area is empty. Quit drinking my favorite! I found it first :-)!<br /><br />10. The physical well being of our bodies does influence the spiritual well being. Fascinating!<br /><br />I think that I'm done now. Whew! Maybe I can concentrate now!Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-45243317618695238672009-01-26T11:20:00.002-06:002009-01-26T11:27:36.567-06:00SilenceI lost my voice this weekend. Beside the usual annoyance of whispering all the time, it presents real challenges in parenting. My two year old knows that I can't raise my voice to get his attention, so he talks louder as he does lots of things that he shouldn't. I was trying to give my girls a bath but couldn't be heard over running water. While driving us home from church yesterday, there was an absolute mutiny in the car over entertainment choices. One wanted a movie, one wanted one CD and one had another CD in mind. I don't tolerate shouting matches over trivial things, but who could hear my corrections?<br /><br />However, there are some advantages. I choose very carefully what I will say and how I will say it. It is painful to talk so I don't mince words. I am required to be very close to the person that I want to communicate with.<br /><br />I also have to listen, a lot. I thought that I was a pretty good listener. I am realizing that I'm not so hot. I am always thinking about how to respond and what I would do or say differently. When I can't interrupt vocally, I'm interrupting mentally. Interesting, huh?<br /><br />I wonder if I do that with God. Do I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">interrupt</span> what He is trying to communicate with my loudness? I want to practice truly being silent in His presence. It won't be easy.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-67236771380965627502009-01-12T10:44:00.001-06:002009-01-12T10:46:01.621-06:00Dear Friends and FamilyDear Friends and Family,<br /><br />Thank you so much for wanting to include our little man on the monetary incentives you offer his older sisters. However, please disist from giving him any more change. The ER bills cannot be covered by pennies in his belly.<br /><br />Thank you,<br />Chad and RhesaRhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-5089211159813760632008-12-17T13:54:00.003-06:002008-12-17T14:00:26.039-06:00Serenade<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nRVoglZi2l8OR9vAXCYJzSOU90rpo_z_t8AQPJS6HWwxPE8_TzqV2HiTVT6PdzSiMh7vcFvmRMZ3mnEN1-uzg4g38Pu0ZmCweKiBH5jL2JGAx8Jao3utYIGKCECKtU-Vd-h93RAErIb3/s1600-h/IMG_7242.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280851326373122482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nRVoglZi2l8OR9vAXCYJzSOU90rpo_z_t8AQPJS6HWwxPE8_TzqV2HiTVT6PdzSiMh7vcFvmRMZ3mnEN1-uzg4g38Pu0ZmCweKiBH5jL2JGAx8Jao3utYIGKCECKtU-Vd-h93RAErIb3/s200/IMG_7242.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>At any high end resturaunt at this time of year, you would be serenaded with beautiful renditions of Christmas music. At dinner, every night so far this week, we have been treated to two beautiful songs by our two year old. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The first goes like this, "Glor........or......or.....oria. Anna Chelsea DAYO! Glor....or....or....oria. Anna Chelsea DAYO!" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And the second is, "Frosty the no-man was jolly happy soul in a ONE HORSE OOOOPEN SLEIGH!" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>LOL!!!</div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-18348442350140897252008-12-15T09:22:00.002-06:002008-12-15T09:24:24.177-06:00All I Want for Christmas<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEbMvjumVLmro1tHAv0jFjvJOq9otk0GII6iJPgQz14eYjwrOqON7KV5Czwgx-H1sqJHpmfX6STP4KfjMajEylT-EB3999cFIEU4BUNtdFLbrgLRgXgfyVeLDGuCZWqSO0wcMBwqryh3N/s1600-h/Pooh+nursery+038.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280037898712830386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEbMvjumVLmro1tHAv0jFjvJOq9otk0GII6iJPgQz14eYjwrOqON7KV5Czwgx-H1sqJHpmfX6STP4KfjMajEylT-EB3999cFIEU4BUNtdFLbrgLRgXgfyVeLDGuCZWqSO0wcMBwqryh3N/s400/Pooh+nursery+038.jpg" border="0" /></a> Is my two front teeth!<br /><br /></div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-67231384149531463932008-12-15T09:05:00.003-06:002008-12-15T09:16:39.327-06:00Scurry<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0vHj5RUJf2InNjeyB8WPcARPPkWHzq-Ku8-MpHHBViSqMOV0F-VD91f1hngcH9kq4oD6y9eEkEHwN0SqPa2mJ8hj0FhgWlxOXsLhRGS8wEk4V0fEJQtaveyV7SPEdh8RHyWa8Dix4mWo/s1600-h/Nutcracker+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280035984659769586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0vHj5RUJf2InNjeyB8WPcARPPkWHzq-Ku8-MpHHBViSqMOV0F-VD91f1hngcH9kq4oD6y9eEkEHwN0SqPa2mJ8hj0FhgWlxOXsLhRGS8wEk4V0fEJQtaveyV7SPEdh8RHyWa8Dix4mWo/s200/Nutcracker+001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>We have had a first this holiday season. Our first Nutcracker performance! Our oldest was a mouse in her dance studio's production of this holiday classic. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>For weeks, she practiced scurry-ing around our house with her little hands up in front of her. When the costume came home, she insisted on modeling it for every person who graced our front door. The morning of the performance, she woke up at 6am to tell her sister, "I get to wear mascara today!" This was a very important moment for our sweet little girl and she savored every bit of it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Here's a cute picture of our mouse...</div>Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-76732317847575921892008-12-02T13:18:00.004-06:002008-12-02T13:28:50.734-06:00RememberThe opportunity to remember has presented itself several times in the last two weeks.<br /><br />First, on a cold Saturday afternoon, I showed my girls their baby pictures. We laughed and told stories about when they were little. They were so intrigued by the chance to hear about themselves as babies and where we were living and what our house was like then and so on. I was reminded that as crazy as our lives seem now, there was nothing harder than two babies under the age of two.<br /><br />Then, as I was supposed to be cleaning the house for Thanksgiving guests, the girls dug out an OLD video tape of my high school drill team. They begged to watch it and watched two seasons worth of football games and pep rallies. They would pick me out of the line in every shot and say funny things like, "Mommy! You could really dance then!" Ha!!!<br /><br />When that was over, they wanted to watch our wedding video. LOL! So, we pulled it out too. They oohed and awwhhed at the dress and flowers and begged me to fast forward through all the long talking. They loved watching us kiss and our first dance. They kept saying, "You look so young, Mommy! Daddy looks like a teenager." So funny! They especially watched my sisters as our flower girls because they will be flower girls in just a few weeks.<br /><br />On Thanksgiving, we sat around a table with extended family and told stories. I expected the kids to get bored quickly and head off to playtime. Instead, my oldest sat on my lap and listened to stories about all of us growing up-from my dad's childhood to mine. As I put her to bed that night, she said, "Mommy. God has always been part of our family, right?"<br /><br />How sweet and tender that question is! Yes, baby. God has always been a part of our family, even when we didn't know it. That's worth a trip down memory lane.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-10658233741373719442008-11-16T17:41:00.003-06:002008-11-16T17:56:47.825-06:00Grief and AllegianceI knew from a very young age that this place is not my true home. I was a child that looked forward to going to heaven because that's where my daddy was. It seems a natural way for a child to express grief.<br /><br />As I got older, I was still very comfortable with the idea that my allegiance was to the kingdom of heaven. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my life as a teenager and a young adult but I knew that I wasn't supposed to get too settled here. This was just a part of the journey, not the destination.<br /><br />I don't sit well on that train of thought anymore. It's not because I am really fond of the poverty, suffering, and diasaster that mark our world. Those are just part of this existence. I'm not even that crazy about mortages, jobs, and carpool.<br /><br />I want to stay here because of the people that make up my life. I want see my daughters get married and become mothers. I want to see my son become a man. I want to see all the ways that God has shaped them to become adults. I want to sit with them in the quieter years of my life and hear their stories of faith. I want to be here.<br /><br />I wrestle with this idea of allegiance today as a precious family was plunged into the depths of grief this week. They know where their allegiance is and yet they must feel cheated of all those things. A mother should never bury her own son. A brother, barely a teenager, should not see his older brother and mentor in a casket. A neice shouldn't cry for a favorite uncle's lap. A sister should not have to bear such horrible news to her parents. This doesn't seem the natural order of things.<br /><br />Why God? Why must it be this way? Why is death a part of life? Why do the young die before they have a chance to live their life? Why do Daddy's die and never come home to the children who miss them? Why?<br /><br />How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever? <br />How long will you hide your face from me?<br />How long must I wrestle with my thoughts <br />and every day have sorrow in my heart? <br />How long will my enemy triumph over me?<br />Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. <br />Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;<br />my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," <br />and my foes will rejoice when I fall.<br />But I trust in your unfailing love; <br />my heart rejoices in your salvation.<br />I will sing to the LORD, <br />for he has been good to me.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5149162377937683551.post-16272142246505079692008-11-10T10:19:00.003-06:002008-11-10T10:34:32.892-06:00JourneyI love fall! I love cooler weather and pumpkins and hot chocolate and sweaters and rich colors and soup and Halloween and...<br /><br />But most of all, I love the trees. I love the colors changing. It is such a mystery to me how it all works and why. Yes, I studied it in school and know the facts. But why? Why did God make it work this way? Why the cycle of slowly dying and falling and then blooming again? It is a delicate, deep mystery that leaves me feeling content.<br /><br />I have a favorite tree this year. It is on my way home and I have been watching it for almost two weeks now. It was so slow to begin to turn. Other trees in this same yard were brillant colors of yellow and red but this one stayed green for a long time. Then one day last week I noticed that it had begun the process. But my tree didn't proceed in the normal pattern. The leaves on the tips of branches were red. In the middle, golden yellow. Inside, still spring green. The tree stayed this way for seven days! It was as if it was frozen in time.<br /><br />Yesterday, I saw that overnight the yellow had creeped to the inside of the tree and the red had moved to the middle. Those inital rubies had fallen to the ground. I was sad to see that tree change. I had come to look forward to seeing it everyday on my way home.<br /><br />We are that way aren't we? Even when we know something can't and shouldn't stay a certain way, we are sad when it changes. I was reminded that change is the way of life. It moves us forward at all time toward new blooms, new life.<br /><br />I was also blessed by this tree that had it's own way to go about change. It didn't take the typical pattern or speed of change. It was moving just as it should have, at it's own pace and in it's own way. Beautiful!<br /><br />Life is about change. Life in God is about changing to look more like Jesus all the time. That change requires the death of some parts of us and new life to grow in their place. Change occurs in each individual at their own pace and in their own way. God created each of us to walk a unique path, a journey all our own. But in the infinite wisdom, we were placed in a forest who has the same ultimate purpose: change.Rhesa Higginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07296981509932614853noreply@blogger.com0