Today, while thinking about a recent article regarding stress, I remembered an interview I had with A Christian Writer’s World. Here is a question I was asked regarding my last novel, A Promise for Tomorrow. How do you keep your sanity in our run, run, run world?

My response: When I first wake up I thank God for His protection during the night and then I commit the new day to Him. My best intention is to then have a quiet time but, I confess, the “to do” list often jumps in and, before I know it, stress take its toll. When this happens it’s like my car. If I don’t give my Honda proper maitenance it needs repair. The same is true for this ole believer’s soul.

Yesterday I heard another interview on a Christian call-in show. The caller said, “When I wake up I say, ‘God, here is my head, my heart and my hand. Use me today for your glory.’”

I like this woman’s prayer and hope to remember it when I wake up tomorrow.

Vacation time with hubby!

    For the umpteenth time I lifted my golden metallic shoes from their box and chuckled. Purchased for half-price during a family vacation ten years ago, I thought I had found a prize. Surely, I told myself, my fuzzy and practical bedroom shoes back home are no match for these braid and rhinestone beauties.

    Many miles and days later, I examined my golden slippers again. No marks. No scratches. No mates? Ready to slip them on and be a lady of leisure, I noticed one shoe fit snugly across the top of my foot while the other was a thong, with a small strap to fit between the toes.

    Sometimes I think my Christian life is like the purchase of those gold shoes. Anxious to look good and to carry my weight, I have accepted a job without asking God if it is His choice. Too late, I realize the shoes don't fit. They are mismatched for my feet. I need to take Paul's remark to heart. "We have different gifts, according to the grace given us" (Romans 12:6).

    Today, I still have those two flashy shoes in a dusty box. Yet, somehow, they do serve a purpose. The golden slippers remind me not only to laugh at my bloopers, but to examine my gifts to see if all decisions match up to His perfect will for me.

   

Not my problems, but his power
Not my stress, but his strength
Not my worries, but his wisdom
Not my failures, but his faithfulness
Not my loss, but his love
Not my pressure, but his peace
Not me, but him, in everything
"For from him and
Through him and
To him are all things.
To him be the glory forever!
Amen."
(Romans 11:36, NIV).

    Father's Day has come and gone, but a memory of my dad still lingers.

    It was a day of bicycles and roller skates. A day for playing hop-scotch and marbles. It was a day when no respectable 10-year-old female would be without her autograph book with pastel pages. After all, didn't every girl need to know she was accepted? Didn't she, in fact, search every entry to see if, at least occasionally, she might garner a word of praise?

    I think Dad knew the scoop. Maybe that's why he took so long when I asked him for an autograph on that late spring day.

    "Well, let's see now," he said. "Oh, here's a funny one." Dad cleared his throat and read:

    "When one day a boy kisses you at the gate--
    remember love is blind, but the neighbors ain't."

    "Okay. Give me a minute. I need inspiration," Dad said.

    Frankly, I was surprised by Dad's delay; his desire for time and thought. He was usually a man of few words. Maybe he wanted to improve upon the scribblings of "Hi, does your face hurt? Well, it's killing me," or just "Have a good summer."

    I waited in anticipation, but with little hope. Finally, he handed the autograph book to me and walked away. Today, more than a half-century later, the book is gone but the words on the light-gold page remain etched on my heart. Dad wrote:

    "When all the others you have read
    When nothing nicer can be said
    When others have praised you to the top
    Remember--the best praise comes from your Pop!

    Happy Father's Day to all the guys who know how to bless their daughter's heart!