The Beauty of Details

I am a person who admires details. When I go to events, I determine how important the event was based on the attention to detail it was given. At a given event I may pick up a program, for example, and search to see if the program has a personal touch or a copy-and-paste feel? What is the weight of the paper? How does the paper feel? Smooth, rough? Is the paper a color? What color-feel does it express? What font was chosen? Plain old boring fonts I can name or unique fonts that are an expression of the event itself? Is there color in the font itself? Bold, italic?

This "measuring-up" I do everywhere I go may seem exhausting to other personalities, but for me, it is my constant companion. I investigate details in everything. In a few quick seconds I size-up situations, people, events based on the details I see, hear and feel.

When I was a little girl my mom would take us for walks. She remembers being frustrated with me because I walked so slow while my brother and sister were running off ahead of her. I would stop and pick up flowers, look at bugs, and watch the wind blow. As a mom I can understand her frustration, but I also look back with fondness on that little girl who was so fascinated by the details and designs in nature that it caused her to stop and admire the beauty.

A few years ago, I was working with a young man who had worked for hours on a logo for a sermon series he was about to begin with his high school students. I'll never forget him telling me his frustration for "wasting" so much of his time on the logo. His logo was amazing, but he couldn't rationalize spending that high of a percentage of his work-week on creating his awesome logo. He told me next time he was create a simple, boring logo so as not to waste his time when the kids really didn't care and parents never noticed his work. Ouch. Here was a person of detail, an eye for design, throwing in the towel for the sake of appeasing an ungrateful audience.

Numerous times in my career people have questioned why I do what I do. "Why do you work so hard?" "Why do you bring in real flowers when you can just buy fake ones?" "Why do you waste your time writing notes or signing your name?" "Why did you spend time on something no one will notice?" That last question is my favorite. "...no one will notice?" Perhaps what they mean is, "non-detailed people notice." These voices that demean details and devalue creativity argue against the logical side of my personal time and energy creating this overwhelming tug-of-war. Who will win? Logic or passion? Do I simply do the job and check the box like my colleague was falling into years ago? How long can I continue to wrestle with the question, "Would anyone notice if I didn't do a, b, or c?"

I go back to what I said at the very beginning- I am a person of detail. Perhaps no one else will notice, but I will. I will see details missing. I will see the hole where the flower should have been and for me personally, I will find the event shallow and not important. I am compelled to add details - even if I am the only one who sees!

Thankfully, I serve a God who shares my passion for details. His creation is limitless on its creative design and fantastic artistry. He has hidden beauty in nature that no human eye has ever seen and I have to wonder does that mean it is not important? Certainly not! Everything I do is for Him- for His glory and for His praise. I can rest knowing my detail-loving God sees. He sees me. He sees the little touches and work I do...and He smiles - and that, my friends, makes the details all worth while. Keep creating and keep adding details!

"For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:13 (Lots of tender-loving care and detail involved here!)

Road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35)

Working as a Children's Ministry Coordinator for 18-years gave me an appreciation for the Bible and a recognition of seasonal cycles embedded within the scriptures which allow us to study and learn complete narratives. I organized a scope and sequence so that if a child attended church every Sunday (I know - here's hoping!) s/he would have read most major stories of the Bible.

One of the sad things about working with adults is the lack of connecting stories. Sometimes the themes overlap, but the drama behind personalities, friendships, and enemies is lost in our snap-shot Sunday format. Wouldn't it be fun to actually organize curriculum around Biblical cliff-hangers where people are compelled to either pick up their Bible and finish the story for themselves, or at least return the next week to hear what happened! Oh, I image a cliff-hanger every Sunday would get old, but at least completing a story in succession would be nice!

All that to say, "The Road to Emmaus" is one of my favorite post-Resurrection stories and one I have yet to hear taught to adults! So I thought I'd share a bit about this great story...

This story takes place the day Jesus has risen from the dead. Remember, Jesus has died on the cross, his body was placed in a tomb and now certain women and even some disciples are saying he has risen and they have seen him! Preposterous you say? So did these two men. We don't know exactly who these men are. One man's name is Cleopas (v.18), but we never know the name of the other. Luke includes them in a group of people who were following Jesus - not his 11 disciples, but two men who had been traveling with the group. They were seven miles outside Jerusalem on the day of Jesus' resurrection. There are no cell phone or electronic devices and this story ends with the men stopping for dinner, which means these two men must have, upon hearing the morning reports of the resurrection, decided this is just too much to believe and they want to disassociate with this mess by leaving as fast and as far as possible. 

These two men have left a place of pain and confusion. Instead of facing their fears, doubts and pain, they decide to leave.

I love that the Gospels are filled with post-resurrection accounts of Jesus appearing to a multitude of people. His appearances, to me, are a reflection of his love for each individual. Jesus appeared to groups at a time, but also to individuals - or in this case - two men traveling along a lonely road. 

Scripture records that when Jesus approached the men, "their eyes were prevented from recognizing Him." The resurrection, in itself, is mind-boggling. I like to sit and ponder "life-after-resurrection" based on what Jesus did after his resurrection. There was no body in the tomb (only linen wrappings) so somehow, the resurrected Savior used up the dead matter of his flesh into his resurrected body (Maybe I'm getting to far out there for some of you...don't you like to let your mind think about the "what if's" and "I wonder" of life?) Anyway, along comes Jesus and these two men don't recognize him. 

The men explain to Jesus what they've been talking about (v.19-24) and all the events of Jesus' life leading up to this moment. Their statements are factual, but wrapped with uncertainty and unbelievability. The two men almost seem confused as to not knowing who or what to believe - which is (I image) why Jesus chose to appear to them personally (isn't He the coolest guy?). 

Then, Luke records one of the statements that I wish was documented somehow, "And beginning with Moses and with all the prophets, He explained to them the things concerning Himself in the Scriptures." (v.27) How amazing to hear Jesus explain the Holy Bible to them! 

Finally, the men arrived at their destination and urged Jesus to stay with them since it was getting late. Classic Jesus: he comes inside to hang-out with his friends. 

"And it came about that when He had reclined at the table with them, He took the bread and blessed it, and breaking it, He began giving it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized Him; and He vanished from their sight." (v.30)

Oh my, so much here! Jesus reveals himself in the breaking of the bread! It's like a light goes on, dots are connected and suddenly, these two men's eyes are opened to make sense of not just the resurrected Jesus before them, but the connecting of the scriptures pointing to Jesus! And then- without so much as another word - Jesus vanishes! (Like I said, Jesus is awesome! The resurrected body of Jesus can vanish, walk through walls, but still eat fish! How cool is that?!)

The best part of the story is in verse 33, 

"...and they arose that very hour and returned to Jerusalem." 

Their question marks had been turned into exclamation points! That very hour - while it's still dark - they walk another seven miles back to Jerusalem! I can imagine them skipping down the path, leaping with joy! They have just seen their Risen Savior! He really has risen!

This story oozes with lessons, but I thought I'd share the lesson I glean from this story in 2017. 

I have personally had a very hard year. In many ways, things I have experienced have left me doubting a lot, questioning friends and feeling very alone. But running from the problems of my Jerusalem does not solve anything. Instead, Jesus has encountered me in my grief and in my confusion. He reminds me of my blessedness in Him. He opens scriptures to reveal His promises and love for me. He challenges me to get up, confess, repent and then return to the dark place to shine His Light and bring hope to others who are in darkness and do not yet believe. Most importantly, I am aware that I am not alone, even when I run away, Jesus is on the road with me. "Where can I go from your presence?" The Psalmist questions? This story answers- there is no where we can run where Jesus will not be with us and meet us.

I don't know what your Jerusalem looks like and what pain you may be running from, but I pray your eyes will be opened to see your Risen Savior walking by your side. I pray, also, that when you see you are not alone, you will have courage to walk back to your place of pain so that Jesus can bring hope, healing and a future. 

May you be blessed this day - one week after the Resurrection - as we continue to celebrate and remember the life, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

Mending the Saints

Have you ever had one of those experiences where you thought you knew a word and then - BAM - your mind and theology blows up in your face when the fullness of the word reaches your heart?

Growing up, I learned the importance of "equipping the saints." My definition for equipping came from my basic understanding of the word meaning "to equip, to arm, and/or to empower."

 Ephesians 4:11-12 ~ "And he gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers for the equipping of the saints for the work of service to the building up of the body of Christ."

From a limited perspective, it would be an easy to read these verses in Ephesians and think the role of leaders is to equip (give) "something" to people within the body of Christ. In this one little word 'equip' I thought it was a leader's job to give something to another for this equipping to occur.

Remarkably...are you ready for your mind to be blown?...that is not the Biblical definition of the equipping!

The verb equipping, as found in Ephesians, doesn't mean empowering or arming, it actually means mending!

This equipping verb is derived from the noun (katartizo) meaning to make perfect, mend, prepare, restore and perfectly join together. This is the same word both Gospel writers Matthew and Mark use to describe the disciples "mending their nets" when Jesus came upon them at the beginning of the Gospels.

Paul's challenge to church leaders in the book of Ephesians is not to give people a tool, task, or job - but to mend them. Jesus Christ is the One who gives gifts and He has lavished on us lovely talents, abilities, personalities and passions. We, however, are broken people dealing with all kinds of fall-out from sin. This "working out of our salvation" as Paul says in Philippians comes in the form of "fear and trembling" because setting of broken bones is painful. Mending of broken hearts is dangerous. And restoring broken lives is a process.

Knowing my job is to mend the saints keeps my eyes on Jesus - the only One who can truly bring restoration and healing to our lives. It's not about me. There is not a church leader or self-help book out there that has the power to transform hearts and mend our brokenness - that, my friends, comes only through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

It's beautiful to think Jesus chose disciples who were caring and mending their nets. He did not choose men who abused their nets and then thew them away in replace for new ones. Tender care goes into mending. It is not a fast or abrupt process. In our quick-paced, demanding culture, I wonder if we even have time to be ambassador's of Jesus in mending of so many broken lives around us? Or are we all (leaders very much included) simply too busy?

Prayer:
God, please teach me to be someone who mends lives. Show me the delicate process of setting broken bones and healing hearts through Your power at work within us as we painfully work together to form your Church.

My Journey of Fasting 2017

Background: Our church is participating in the church-wide Prayer & Fasting during the month of January. Last year, I did a juice fast, which was more tedious than hard. This year, I decided I'd go a bit more 'hard-core' and fast completely - at least for three days.

Anyone who know me, knows I am a HUGE coffee drinker! My coffee addition has always been my hangup when I consider fasting. I really want to fast, but it's such a process to get off coffee and then get back on coffee. (Pathetic, I know!) Well this year I decided to cut it all - coffee included.

Day 1: The Headache. 

My head pounded, my heart raced, my thoughts train wrecked into each other...I was a mess. My daughter was leaving back for her 2nd quarter at UCI that morning, so I wanted to treat her to one last good breakfast. Eggs and sausage, just like she likes it. As the smell of sausage lingered in the house and I kissed her goodbye, I was simultaneously telling my stomach to be quiet!

My fasting tends to start out with a battle of my flesh before I tap into hearing the voice of God. My Monday was that in a nutshell! I'd get hungry, my stomach would growl, my headache grew increasingly intense and I would say,

"I am a daughter of God! I do not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God! Be quiet flesh- you will not win!"

After a long day at work and my first day back at seminary (let me just say, a Greek instruction with no food and a pounding headache was not much fun!) I came home exhausted. Luckily I had leftovers prepared for my family so my meal-prep was minimal.

I'm proud to say I won round 1, but I was in bed by 7:00- exhausted.

Day 2: The Hormones.

Seriously? In case my lack of caffeine-headache wasn't bad enough, I woke up with my friendly female visitor! Now I wasn't sure if my stomach was cramping or wanted food. Regardless, this piece of flesh of mine was putting up a really good fight - but it was not going to win. No Advil or Tylenol could ease the pain of the headache or cramp in my gut! (Taking medication on an empty stomach is not healthy!)

"I am a child of God and my femininity will not knock me out of this race! Zip it stomach, 

quiet down head, peace to you uterus - you will not win!"

My nine-hour day at work pushed my body to the extreme. But I was determined to press forward.
I was in bed by 9:00, two-days of a horrible headache. But my flesh did not win. Laying my head on my pillow, I prayed for God's strength and grace to help me get through another day of this.

Day 3: Peace.

I woke up Wednesday to find my headache was gone! God's mercy is great and His love unfailing. My thoughts were still jumbled, but the fog was clearing.

Day 4: Sadness.

I've experienced a lot of sadness in 2016. Perhaps it was four days of no caffeine, perhaps it was the Holy Spirit slowly beginning to soften my heart, but whatever it was I was overcome with sadness on Thursday. In the shower. In the car. At work. I just broke down crying!

Each moment of tears represented deep pain coming out that I had stuffed in this year. Pain that I didn't want to see or deal with. But now, through fasting, prayer, and stillness, God was bringing to the surface the pain in my heart.

Day 5: Unraveling.

As my routine came more into focus and my praying more defined, I recognized an unraveling that began in my heart months ago. I felt like my thoughts, personality, goals, dreams, family were all falling apart from one another, becoming disconnected. The thread that holds my inner being together, that was woven between all these things is the Spirit of God. I felt I had become so busy, so driven, so focused that my 'joints' are loosening and the thread of the Spirit is pulling away. Almost like the Spirit doesn't feel like He has a place to dwell. I cried out with Moses' prayer,

"If your Presence does not go with us, then do not send us up from here." (Ex. 33:15)
I am nothing without You!

Day 6 & 7: Quiet.
During the next two days I experienced God's peace and rest. My mind was not racing with thoughts, my dreams were not fast-paced, and I was connecting to the stillness of God deep in my spirit. Those two days were heaven-on-earth. My heart rate was slower and my thoughts clear.

Unfortunately, as I reflected on the week ahead of me Sunday night, I recognized that the demands in my life are too extreme for me to be on a complete fast more than one week. I knew, logically, that I'd fall back into my vicious cycle all too quickly - and it made me sad.

Day 8+: Slow Beginnings & Back to Normal.
I was sad to drink smoothies over the next week to begin nourishing my body. I had events to attend to, children to care for and a job to work at - no more fasting for me. I slowly began coffee again on week 3, but (like expected) was back into my routine by week 4 - racing...racing....racing...

My time of fasting and prayer was awesome. The peace and presence of the Living God that I experienced was phenomenal. I was (and am) extremely sad to get back into my routine. My time with prayer and fasting has left me realizing my routine MUST change. The life I am living - the pace I am going - is craziness!

"God, give me courage to evaluate my life and make the changes I need to make to slow my pace so I can hear the speaking of your still small voice and experience your daily peace and presence."

My Lesson From Vin Scully

I've never met Vin Scully, but he taught me a powerful lesson.

I read on a friend's post that Vin Scully announced his last LA Dodger game tonight. Somehow, though I'm obviously not a huge Dodger fan, that announcement made me sad. Sad, perhaps because its the end of an era. Sad perhaps because it's the end of a voice I've known all my life.

I grew up listening to Dodger baseball. In numerous car rides up and down the Grapevine visiting family in Los Angeles I'd "watch" Dodger games play out in my mind's eye listening to Vin bring the plays to life. Oh, to be honest, my dad tended to turn the game on as we all were getting sleepy and he needed to stay awake. Though I tended to fall asleep dreaming of baseball just a few innings into the game (thanks Dad), I learned how to follow baseball by listening to Vin's voice.

A few years ago I read a fascinating article on how Vin got his start. The article stated that back in 1949, when Vin was just getting started in his broadcasting career, before he even began working with the (at the time) Brooklyn Dodgers, his sports director gave him a piece of advice that would guarantee his success. His advice? Never listen to other announcers.

Never listen to other announcers.

I was moved when I read the advice. The sports director was telling Vin to fight to remain unique. Don't try to fit in or sound like the other guys - in fact, don't even listen to them in the off-chance they're techniques or style rubs off on you and you abandon the uniqueness of being you! 

This advice is so contrary to advice we are given today. I look at my own life and recognize the many times I try to live up to other people's expectations of me or be someone I am not. 

Why is it so difficult to be comfortable in our own skin?

How strikingly different would my life be today if I had a 'sports director' encouraging me to not pay attention to the players around me, just focus on being me. Focus on being the best- the only Connie Marie Morgan Nicholson I can be. The gravity of that statement is huge. If we could only grasp the uniqueness of each of our gifts, talents, callings we might catch a glimpse at how much our world is loosing when we try to be someone other than our own true self.

I know at the end of my life, God is not going to ask me, "How well did you live your life like (fill in the blank)?" He's not going to compare my life with someone else's life or even compare my reactions to other people's reactions. He knows I am unique - as are you. He put me on the earth at this time, as this person, in this family, with my giftings and skills on purpose. God knew 100% what he was doing and nothing about me is an accident.

People may disagree with me. People may think I'm crazy. But at the end of the day, God doesn't call me to explain myself or even to please people - He just wants me to be Connie, in all my messy uniqueness and beautiful flaws.

I want to live my life like Vin Scully. Not to broadcast baseball - obviously that would not turn out well! But I want to live my life in full surrender of who God has created me to be. Comfortable with my voice, my body, my thoughts and my experiences. Not putting on a facade to be someone I am not. But instead fully comfortable and confident to be me - Simply Connie.

Coolness of the Morning

I walked outside to feed Ranger (my dog) this morning and was greeted by cool air.

The plants in the garden that have survived the summer torment were resting in the cool of the morning. My four rabbits who withstood the extreme heat of summer were breathing more calm. The air outside gave a sigh of relief.

The seasonal change is beginning.

I echo the relief of my plants and rabbits - I also didn't know if I would make it through the summer heat. My life endured a full-scale assault at every angle: core family, extended family, my neighborhood, my health and my work. There were days when I would wake up before the cruel rays of the summer sun to find moments of silence before the demands of my situations bore down on me.

I found myself looking for Jesus. "Jesus," I would cry, "Where are you? I can't do this without you." With the demands closing in around me I felt like a hiker lost in a grove of sequoias. I could not see the sun. My path grew dark because the light could no longer penetrate the branches of the magnificent trees. My path had led me to this place, but I could not see where it continued.

In the darkness I cried.

I wasn't angry. I wasn't afraid. I just wanted Jesus.

"Jesus," I would cry out the next morning, "Where are you? I can't do this without you."

As my summer trudged on I recognized I cannot sit in this dark place. I must actively search, chop down trees if I have to, in order to get my focus back on Jesus.

My times of quiet became times of reading my Bible. Reminding myself who I was in Christ, reminding me of His Truths that I am never alone, He will not abandon me, He is working for my good. In my isolation, Jesus met me and pointed the way, showed me how to pull apart the trees to find the way to go. Though I felt alone- I knew I was never alone.

Day-by-day I struggled. Day-by-day I dragged myself out of my dark place and put myself on my Rock and worked at pushing the trees off my path. As huge and important as each tree was, nothing (AND I MEAN NOTHING) has the right to take my focus off my Savior. Every morning it was a battle to move the trees- again - and get my feet back on the right path.

As the cool greeted me this morning, I felt God's quiet still small voice say, "you made it."

In that quiet whisper I felt my shoulders relax, I took in a deep breath, and found shalom in the stillness of the cool morning.

The road before me is no less periling than before, but God's peace that transcends all my understanding is with me. My Savior, my friend is with me in my greatest hour of need and I am filled with thanksgiving.

Thank you, Jesus, for walking this dark road with me. Thank you for keeping me company even when I felt alone, teaching me how to move the trees that were crowding in on me and helping me find my way out of the forest.

When I came in from feeding my dog, I picked up The Message and read Psalm 23:

"God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction. Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I'm not afraid when you walk at my side. Your trusty shepherd's crook makes me feels secure." Psalm 23 The Message

Whatever forest you may find yourself, call out to Jesus. He is by your side and waiting to give you strength, point your way and help you out.

May God's peace be with you as you experience the coolness of the new season approaching!
Connie

Brushed by Grief

Grief. 

Grief brushed past my heart this week and reminded me that life is precious and can change in an instant.

“Mom, you need to come here,” my son yelled to me on Monday as we’re hurriedly tried to pack up our trailer to head away on vacation.

“Is it really that important? I don’t have time.” I inquired back.

“Mom, you need to come here.” The tone in his voice was intense. I followed him outside where he showed me our neighbors little dog running around the green belt.

“Why is Tico out?” I thought out-loud.

“No. Look.” Micah pointed to a lump in the road.

My heart sunk. Our neighbor had collapsed.

My neighbor, Bob.

At my church we encourage people to love our neighbors. Learn their names, learn their dog’s names, learn their children’s names, watch for opportunities to serve and love them.

We have lived in our house for 8½ years. The neighbors on both sides of us are in their 80’s and my husband and I keep our eye on them and check in with them often just to be sure they are doing okay. I hadn’t realized how much I was loving my neighbors until tragedy struck.

My neighbor, Bob, walks his dog religiously three times a day. The entire block knows who he is and the name of his little doggie.

Life changes in an instant.

I sprinted across the driveway to Bob, yelling at my son along the way to bring me my cell phone. Bob had fallen off the sidewalk, onto the hot pavement onto his side. I picked Bob’s head off the pavement and held it in my hands while I did a quick assessment of the situation. I knew ambulances were expensive – I also knew Bob and Mary live without air conditioning to survive on their tight income. I didn’t want to make a premature 911 call.

“Bob,” I said, while I rubbed his arm and head, “this is Connie, your neighbor. I’m here, you’re not alone.”

I asked him some questions and knew immediately he didn’t just trip and fall. His speech was mumbled and his eyes were dilated. He was verbally responding to my questions, so he knew I was there, but I couldn’t understand his speech. Micah had arrived and called 911.

5 minutes.

While my son called 911, my daughter brought out a pillow to rest his head and my other daughter caught his dog. I stayed with Bob while my girls ran to inform his wife who has herself been ill for four months. In shock, she slowly walked outside, not understanding what was happening. The paramedics arrived within two minutes. I answered the paramedic’s questions and helped Mary interpret what they were saying and what was happening. 

"Are you his granddaughter?" I was asked multiple times. 

"No, I'm his neighbor." 

Just a few short minutes later he had been whisked away.

Caring for the Shocked.

I volunteered to stay with Bob, but when I looked at Mary, his wife - she was lost. I decided to stay with Mary. She almost couldn’t make it back inside - she was in shock. I helped her call her daughters, get dressed, find her shoes, grab a sweater. I got her ready just before her daughter arrived, she was hustled into the car and off to the hospital. The house was empty.

Just like that, in just a few short minutes, my sweet neighbor (I found out later that day) had had a blood clot go to his brain. The TV still played. The half-cup of juice still sat next to the TV tray at Bob’s chair. Time was frozen. I looked around knowing this house would never be the same.  

Bob survived long enough for his three daughters and grandchildren to say goodbye.

He passed away the next day.

Loving Our Neighbors.

My children and I have been at Shaver Lake trying to enjoy our vacation, but my thoughts are lost in my everyday interactions with my sweet neighbor that I will never see again. It’s strange how we get accustomed to routines and people – and nearly take them for granted! I had just waved at him when I had come home from work earlier that morning, just talked with him the night before – and now – in a moment his is gone.

I am glad to have been Bob’s neighbor and especially thankful that we were home and able to be Jesus’ hands to one of His precious children at the end of his life.

Feeling Like a Failure.

My biggest regret is that I never worked up the courage to have a faith-conversation with him. I asked God a few times about opening an opportunity for that conversation- but that never happened. I don't know why. Here is my 84-year-old neighbor, who better to have had that conversation with?! But I kept our chatting light, focused on children, grandchildren, traveling, jobs, activities – all good things- but not the most important thing. Being by someone’s side as they are transitioning out of this life, and not knowing where he/she stands with Christ Jesus, is horribly terrifying. We believe the lie that life will keep moving in the same direction indefinitely and that, perhaps, one day we'll have that conversation. 

If you remember nothing else in this blog, remember this: don't wait for another day to share your faith, or have a Jesus-conversation with people in your regular routine! Dallas Willard defines our neighbor as "anyone in whom we have regular contact." We do not know what tomorrow holds, lets love our neighbors today, by actions and by speech!

I’m still processing this whole event, so I don’t have any words of wisdom to bring into this situation. What I do know is that I loved my neighbor and am grieved at his passing. I will miss hearing his kind voice say my name and talk until the shade tree in the afternoon. I will always remember his head resting in my hands and the peace of God being present with us.

Hug your family and friends. Tell them you love them. And treasure life! Spread the light and life of the gospel around you, especially to the routine faces you see everyday, that you have grown accustomed to seeing. 

"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love, does not know God for God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world, that we might live through Him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sin. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." 1 John 4:7-11