the good stuff Archives

January 16, 2014 by Karin 16 Comments

Why Every Day Should Be The Third Day

I wrote this on the third day. The third day of this new year – and here it is – already the sixteenth.

And I’m learning to rise… eyes open a little more with each sunrise…

It’s the third day. He rose on the third day.

It makes me think that maybe I should rise, too.

It makes me think that maybe I should have risen earlier this morning.

Maybe I should follow through with the P90X re-do I have promised myself.

Maybe I should have cooked eggs and bacon – their favorites – instead of cereal… again. Maybe I should finish putting away the Christmas decorations, even though I feel like I am closing another book – and the books that are left in this life are getting fewer.

Maybe I should clean the den, sprinkled with cheese hardened on a coffee table – left by tiny hands.

Maybe I should wash another load filled with messes of memories from the day and the week before.

Maybe I should fold the piles strewn across the love seat – piles that are preferred for climbing much more than folding.

Maybe I should clean the dishes from yet another storm of grilled cheese, pancakes, and mac ‘n cheese.

Maybe I should take out the brimming trash or ask my 12-year-old to do it. Then I see him head out the front door with a grin – there’s nothing quite like 12-year-old buddies. And I remember being 12, and 22, and 32, and 42…

Maybe I should clean the bedrooms, or vacuum – though it scares the baby – and maybe she doesn’t hear the vacuum quite enough…

It’s the third day and I’ve come to know that the third day becomes the third month in a flash. Then the tenth – and before we know it, it’s another year.

One more chapter – another book closes.

It’s the third day and I wonder why I freeze in time and turn around – trying to hold to the second day, and the first…

It’s the third day and I remember He rose on the third day.

Maybe it’s time to rise. Not to fill the list of to-do’s, the I-need-to’s, the we-really-ought-to’s. Maybe it’s just time to wake up and see that every day brings in the new. The new that is born from yesterday’s new.

Maybe I should just remember that He rose. Whether it’s the third day, or the last.

There is always a new one to follow. Just because He rose.

The books that have closed are just part of an endless series. Endless.

Maybe if we just remember that, we will wake with new eyes – a new hope.

This day, and every day after this one, is just the beginning…

Alexander Graham Bell said it well,

When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the one that has opened for us.

Maybe it is just because of the third day that we have open doors.

Maybe we just have to rise.

And it’s now the sixteenth day.

And I’ve since begun to rise a little bit earlier.

I’ve started the exercise re-do I promised myself… after all, the new P90X3 is only 30 minutes – surely I can find thirty minutes.

And I’ve cooked eggs, but not the bacon.

I’ve cleaned the messes left by tiny hands, but you wouldn’t know it.

The laundry has since been washed and worn, and has returned to rest in the pile of dirties.

The vacuum has once again scared the baby, though she’s starting to sort of like it.

Christmas has been put away and the book has been closed.

The new chapter is open – and it includes three tooth fairy visits since the third day – and the tooth fairy is going broke.

The door is open and the sunlight streams in. The rising sun beckons.

The risen Son holds true to His promises, and with bent knees the day brings new life.

And, maybe every day should be the third day…

Lamentations 3:22-24

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”

October 17, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

The Good Seed

31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 15 ~

Sometimes it isn’t until they are gone.

It isn’t until they are gone that we realize how they changed everything.

Most of the time we didn’t even realize we needed to change something… or we didn’t really want to.

It isn’t until we look back on what was, that we realize what is. The turning point in our lives.

It isn’t until we can see pieces of life in the rearview mirror that we can see how our pieces have come together.

It isn’t until we look back that we can look Up and see the truth.

The lives we live like this woven tapestry. Threaded piece by piece… never having seen the bold thread of this person that held it all together. Until we could grow stronger.

My dear friend, missing her uncle, remembers him…

Twenty-two years ago a couple took in a troubled 18-year-old girl. They had a lot going on in their own lives; two daughters in college and high school senior still at home. The husband worked crazy shift work that eliminated any type of normal sleep and life of his own. The woman was a school bus driver at the time. She volunteered at church and played taxi to her daughter’s activities and ran all over the state trying to make the college sporting and extra curricular events.

Their niece was “lost”. Running nowhere, but constantly running. Circumstances led her to their home – it had always been a safe place – a place where the door was always unlocked. It was often left wide open; an indication of the busy lifestyle where love provoked the revolving door to remain more open than closed.

There was only liability in inviting her in. Her lifestyle was far from theirs – they knew it and opened the door and their arms. They opened themselves up to the questions and judgement from others. Why? “She should learn on her own… she’s gotten herself into this after all!”

There were no lectures or shame here. Everyday there was support, encouragement, company, and love for the girl. She continued in her life choices, but now felt a twinge of wanting what they had… a simple, steady, not so exciting, but full life. The love of Christ permeated their home and their actions – they actually believed in her and began a flicker of belief in herself.

Their kindness gave her hope. It slowly turned to motivation and value; and one day she left. She had been given wings – much like the cousins who had gone before. She didn’t necessarily go on to do great things in the eyes of the world… but ever since, she has been flying and often flies back to the home with the revolving door.

The couple has recently separated in body. The husband flew home to His Lord. His memorial celebration was filled with stories like hers – and now a question. Will the good deed live on? Can she do this, too? Can her door offer a welcome, safety, and the simple glimmer of hope? She is realizing this was an act of bravery on their part… there were no guarantees with the chance they took on her. A good deed is risky – there may not be a good turnout. But then that wasn’t their job, was it? A good deed is simply a good “seed” and all they did was sow it.

The good deed. Sometimes it is the good seed… sown in faith.

The voice that whispers,

My door is open.

You are welcome here.

Matthew 7:7-8

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

February 28, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

Why Don’t You Play More?

His sky blue eyes peered up at me.

Mama, why don’t you play?

I looked up from my very important I-don’t-even-remember-what.

Play what, sweetie?

He slightly shrugged while the blond wisps of hair sheltered his puzzled expression.

You know, games.

Why don’t you play more?

Deep breath. My hand took his small chin and focused on this young precious son of mine.

I don’t know.

I should play more.

Could-a, would-a, should-a.

No good reason. Endless unimportant reasons.

Oh, I know why. I don’t play more so I can gather more stuff, arrange all the stuff, clean all the stuff, organize all the stuff, and do it all again the next day.

Do you ever feel like you spend your time chasing your tail? Then at the end of the day, you are mighty proud that you caught your tail for just a second, realized that you were in an impossible position ~ holding your tail, so you let go, and started chasing it all over again.

Isn’t this the way it is with the endless chores and to-dos? The must-dos and gotta-gos.

All the while, the little ones you love to the end of time are wondering why you don’t just chill out and play.

It is definitely easier said than done. We, after all, must care for, feed, wash, clothe, clean, teach, and on and on and on.

But, maybe, just a little more time should be made to play. Just play.

It’s something that I have struggled and wrestled with for over a decade of motherhood.

It’s easy to say,

Forget the dishes and spend time with your child.

Until the dishes begin to spill out of the sink onto the floor. Never mind all the other tasks, and chores, and places to go.

But… maybe… it’s not as complicated as it seems.

There is a time for everything. Everything important.

I read a study that stated that children only need 15 minutes of devoted one-on-one time per day.

15 minutes.

That’s it.

Some things just are more important than other things.

I dread the day I have a clean house… and silent rooms.

So, today… I will play.

Forget the mess. For just one day.

Embrace the little arms, pull out the toys, add to the mess… just play.

P retend you are that little kid again. It’s one of the gifts of motherhood. To be little again.
L eave the mess alone. It will be there tomorrow. We are here today.
A ppreciate the view in front of you. It doesn’t have to be perfect to be perfectly beautiful.
Y es. You can do this for one day. It is one day. One day is a long time for a kid… remember?

Psalm 33:3

Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy.

Why Every Day Should Be The Third Day

The Good Seed

Why Don’t You Play More?

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