When He Finds Me First

God is more kind, compassionate, real, as in the details of my life, than I ever dreamed was possible.  The lonely years of being suspicious of Him and not understanding Him or His place in our broken world are behind me, closed chapters.

The beginning of each day now is like taking an uncharted forest-path-979292_1280.jpgpath.  I never know where it will lead for sure.  But I start looking around, expecting to find Him in the middle of daily events.

I don’t go searching to find God so much as discover that He has already found me.

And whatever trouble I encounter—always something, isn’t there?—He’s ever ready to help, meeting me just where I am…not where I oughta be.  Where I am. Not like the Critic!

There’s been this Critic in my head, sort of like a disapproving parent (in no way related to my parents).  Ever ready to show me something else I’m doing wrong, pointing out how I don’t measure up as compared to someone else.  Not good enough mother, grandmother, mate, neighbor, friend, you name it.  I don’t listen to him/her so much as I used to, I’m glad to say.

Last Monday was such a good day with lots of energy, zest, gratitude, good writing, and a new and easy recipe with avocado and salmon.  Learning to celebrate every new dish for health, every moment I feel good.

But on Valentine’s Day I woke up tired, having slept poorly.  The Critic was standing by, waiting to magnify the negatives.  Whispers: You don’t feel good; will it ever change?  You’re not making progress.

I poured out my heart to God’s in my journal.  Simple counseling thoughts:  just be faithful to love the people in my life with all my being, doing what I can to let them feel loved, and live in NOW, not yesterday.

And the other thing was to realize that I cannot love all the many people in my life, juggle life’s busy details, and do it all well, do it right, without the help of the Spirit.  How quickly I forget and lean on my own strength and insight; wears me out!  Even on the best days, not everything will get done.

Then I turned on YouTube for inspirational music for writing.  I was just about to click ‘SKIP AD’ but there was Brendon Burchard, a motivational speaker and author, being all upbeat and encouraging, and so I listened.  It seemed like a gift, coming just when needed.  Helped me out of my slump of negative thinking [even though I think dear old Brendon needs to rachet down a wee tad—not knocking him.  He helped me this morning!]

What he said were things like:

–Get into joy and positive thoughts that I can get done what needs doing today.

–Just 3 goals to check off and keep the momentum and motivation growing.

–Hang out with like-minded people who want what I want—to grow and to give.  Who you hang out with effects your health, success, etc.

Critic’s gloomy disapproval gone, poof! And then I looked up, and my husband was home with deeply red roses.  Roses, my favorite.

I had poured out my heart, expecting God’s help.  He gave that and more, already ahead of me in every detail.  The path was lit up with gifts strewn everywhere: my mate and roses, BB pep talk, time with my wee redheaded grand-bairns, an unexpected call from a beloved friend in Chicago, my 11 yr old’s delight over my pun-ny Valentine, time to be still.  So many gifts He planted in my day.

He found me first.

forest-path-979292_1280.jpg

 

 

 

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