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Lois Flowers

What I Learned in 2023: 5 Key Takeaways

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Before we officially launch 2024 here on the blog, I’m sharing a few quick lessons about becoming an empty nester, my motivation for writing, dealing with vastly different perspectives, trusting God and how my parents live on in my children. ~

If I was more on top of things, I would have posted this while it was still 2023. But I’ve been busy spending time with daughters home from college, family in from out of town and a husband who can’t put weight on his foot after ankle surgery.

Plus, lessons learned one year carry over to the next, right? So before we officially launch 2024 here on the blog (next week with a post about my new word for the year), I’m sharing a few quick lessons from the year just past.

1. The empty nest hits each mom different.

I’ve read and heard all sorts of stories about what it’s like to leave your youngest child at college, and it seems that each experience is as unique as the person who goes through it.

I missed younger girl Molly a great deal this past semester, and older daughter Lilly too, while she was studying in Spain. I don’t recall shedding any tears about it, though. They were both where they were supposed to be, and for me, that helped tremendously with the letting go.

I’m still trying to figure out what the next phase of my life is going to look like, trusting that God will open the right doors when the time is right (more on that in a future post).

2. My parents live on in my children.

Lilly has my mom’s outgoing personality, hospitable heart and authentic desire to connect people. My dad’s calm spirit, logical nature and penchant for keeping track of details are abundantly evident in Molly.

It brings me joy and soothes my heart to see these characteristics on display in my girls, almost five years after we said good-bye to my parents.

3. My motivation behind my writing must be to encourage, not to elicit sympathy or affirmation.

When I’m brainstorming a blog post, sometimes it helps to take a step back and think about why the idea is swirling around in my head. If I’m hoping others will affirm me after reading my words, I’m finding it’s best to set that topic aside, at least for a while. (You can read more about this here.)

4. With our differences, we can cover more ground.

I haven’t stopped thinking about this statement since I first read it in a blog post my friend Ashley wrote to commemorate her 11th wedding anniversary. Randy and I agree about many topics, but sometimes, we’re so far apart in what we see, it’s as if we are looking at completely disparate scenes.

Ashley’s words remind me that our diverse perspectives can help us see more of a situation together than we could each do on our own. This, I’m finding, is particularly helpful when parenting young adults.

5. When times get difficult or wonky, we have to make an intentional decision to remember what we believe about God and hold fast to it.

This hit home not so long ago, when I realized that my biggest fear isn’t that God won’t be faithful, but that what He ordains for me or my loved ones might be hard. Will I continue to trust Him when circumstances are not to my liking, or even to my detriment? I dearly hope so.

• • •

I could keep going with the lessons from 2023, but I’ll stick to these five. And of course I’d love to know—what did you learn last year that you’ll keep close to your heart or mind in 2024? Please share in the comments.

♥ Lois

Our diverse perspectives can help us see more of a situation together than we could each do on our own. Share on X If I'm honest with myself, I'd have to say that my biggest fear isn’t that God won’t be faithful, but that what He ordains for me or my loved ones might be hard. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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Share Four Somethings: What’s New?

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: A new season of life, a visit to a new country, a colorful new collection, a fun new baking pan and a new appreciation for my mom. ~

My word for 2023 was remember, but if I had to pick a second one to describe the year, it would be new.

Randy and I entered a new season of parenting. We’re now empty nesters, although we both prefer the term bird launchers.

I also started something new—the Remembering Our Parents Instagram community.

There’s more, so I’m continuing this theme for the final Share Four Somethings of the year. Instead of listing four new things in my life, I’m including five—some significant, others more lighthearted. Starting with …

• A New Country 

My daughter Lilly spent the last semester studying in Spain, so the week before Thanksgiving, we went to visit her. I’ve been to Asia twice, but this was my first time anywhere in Europe.

Our destination was Seville, a city of about 700,000 in southwestern Spain that is home to the largest Gothic cathedral in the world. To call this church an architectural wonder is an understatement, especially considering the earliest sections were built in the 1100s and a significant portion added in the 1400s.

I’ve never walked so much in my life. I’ve never seen so many fascinating sights all within a few miles of one another.

It was a wonderful to witness a different culture up close and personal—the food (churros and chocolate, anyone?), people congregating inside and out at all hours of the day and night, eating dinner much later than we do in the United States, seeing men and their sons in puffer jackets, hearing only Spanish spoken most of the time, enjoying much lower prices on practically everything.

It  also was fun to see Lilly in her element in Seville—introducing us to her new friends; interacting in Spanish with waiters, bus drivers and sales clerks; explaining the significance of various forms of art and architecture. Her grasp of the language and her ability to get around in a densely populated city was amazing.

We couldn’t have asked for a better tour guide.

• A New Collection

I’ve collected and used Scarlet Fiestaware dishes for years. Earlier this year, on a trip to Savers, I found the same style of mug from my set of dishes in three other colors. They were so pretty, I had to buy them.

Since then, the mug section has become my first stop whenever I visit a thrift shop. Between gifts and my own searches, I have the same cup in seven colors. And I’m hoping my collection is just beginning.

• A New (to me) Sickness

Somehow, I made it to 2023 without getting Covid. Then this year, I had it twice, about nine months apart.

While I was sicker the first time around, both cases were pretty mild. I suppose it goes without saying, but I am very grateful for that.

For me, the worst part of Covid is not being able to exercise, and then having to build back up to my regular running regimen over several weeks. Being sick hammered home a truth I already knew but feel more acutely now: Exercise is a key element of my mental and emotional health.

• A New Baking Tool

Randy’s parents gave me a large mini loaf pan for Christmas several years ago, but I was always a bit intimidated by it so it sat in the cabinet, unused.

Not anymore. I wanted to try something different in my holiday cookie boxes this year, so I pulled it out and made my daughter’s favorite chocolate-chip pumpkin bread in mini loaf form twice this month.

A 2-ounce cookie scoop made it easy, and also less messy. The pumpkin bread even tasted better in mini loaf form.

Next up: banana bread mini loaves.

• A New Appreciation

Maybe it’s because younger daughter Molly went to college and Lilly flew across the ocean to experience a new culture. Whatever the case, I found myself missing my own mom a great deal this year.

She and my dad successfully launched not just two, but seven children. She died before I reached that same season of life, so it never occurred to me to ask her about it. Now I dearly wish I had.

My mom didn’t just send us all away and forget about us, though. Long before the days of texts, email and WhatsApp, she wrote letters to each one of us, several times a week.

The frequency lessened as we got married and had families of our own. But even now, all these years later, my college friends still marvel about the amount of mail I used to receive in my campus post office box.

I didn’t appreciate it nearly enough at the time, but now I see it. She thought of us often, and she let us know by writing to us. And what a gift that was.

• • •

Now it’s your turn. What was new in your life this past year? Or, if you prefer, share your own list of Something Loved, Read, Learned and Eaten from December or all of 2023.

And Happy New Year to you all!

♥ Lois

While visiting #Seville, Spain, it was a wonderful to witness a different culture up close and personal. Share on X My mom successfully launched seven children. She died before I reached that same season of life, so it never occurred to me to ask her about it. Now I dearly wish I had. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with sharefoursomethings, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

Spain and mug photos by Molly Flowers.

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Word of the Year Recap: Remember

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside:  A look back at the influence my word of the year had on my life, my heart and my writing. ~

As I look back over the last 12 months, I’d love to be able to share key moments, lessons learned or multiple blog posts written about the word remember.

But while my word for 2023 has stayed with me like a patient and faithful friend, its impact has been more of a hodge podge, rather than anything I can outline in an organized list.

That’s what remembering often is, though, at least for me. Stirring the pot so nothing sticks to the bottom. Unsnarling a big ball of knots, one thread at a time. Savoring the sweetness of a long-forgotten scene.

Unexpected Impact

When I think of what remember has meant to me this year, all these metaphors come to mind. As is usually the case with my words, when it first came to me, I couldn’t have anticipated all the ways this one would touch my mind, my heart and even my writing projects.

For me, and perhaps for you too, memories are tightly tied to seasons of life. I knew this, but what I didn’t know was where they would come from during this particular phase.

Younger daughter Molly graduated from high school in May. As we celebrated her achievements and looked forward to college with her, the recollections flooding my mind were mostly not about raising her.

They were about my mom, and when I went away to college for the first time.

Maybe this is because Molly is still here, and we’re still making new memories. Like when she came home unexpectedly for my birthday in November. For the first time in a long time, I was genuinely, 100 percent surprised. (I still smile when I think of seeing a car pull into the driveway that night after supper and realizing it was hers.)

Remembering a Hard Season

This year I finally gathered up all the blog posts I had written about my parents’ last years and packaged them together in a resource called Help for Parent Loss.

As you might imagine, this exercise in remembering came with its own set of tender emotions. I don’t even remember writing some of the posts, while others describe events and feelings so deeply etched in my soul, they feel like they happened yesterday.

The work was taxing at times, in all sorts of ways. And yet, I’m glad I did it. Not simply to have all these posts together in one place, but so other people who are experiencing this sad season in their own lives will have somewhere to turn for encouragement and truth.

Remembering Our Parents

On a happier note, I also launched Remembering Our Parents this year. Based on follower stories, this Instagram community is for all of us who have parents and parents-in-law who are gone but definitely not forgotten.

I could devote an entire post to what I’ve learned from this project so far—lessons about asking for help, how people grieve, what works and what doesn’t work on Instagram, God’s provision, and even pushing through fear.

I may blog about all that someday, but right now, I’m working on trusting God while the story is being written.

I’m incredibly thankful for friends who have already joined the community, contributed memories and shared about it on their own creative platforms. If you have a parent you remember fondly, I would love for you to check out @RememberingOurParents, follow along (if you’re on Instagram), and consider sharing a short story and photo of your own. 

(You can still participate if you’re not on Instagram. Leave a comment or send me a note here, and we can talk about the logistics.)

Other Writing about Remembering

When the year began, I had a vague notion about reflecting back on my childhood and writing down everything I could think of about every memory that came to mind. Not for publication anywhere, but for my own reflection and understanding. (Joanna Gaines writes about this in her book, The Stories We Tell, which is where I got the idea.)

I still think this would be a helpful project, but I haven’t started it yet.

In previous years, I’ve been more disciplined about writing regular blog posts about my words of the year. In this year of transition and unexpected challenges, I wrote more about what I was finding it helpful to remember, instead of focusing on the word itself.

A Few Excerpts

From “What to Remember When Life Throws You Off Track” …

The scriptures tell us to run with endurance the race set before us. This includes hills and valleys, ups and downs, highs and lows.

Along the way, we experience seasons of sickness and wellness, joy and grief, uncertainty and clarity. We often have no warning before the season changes, which can add another layer of difficulty to what we are facing.

This is life, and even though it should not surprise us, it often does.

From “One Step to Take When You’re Down or Discouraged” …

Remember the goodness.

When we’re stuck in the fog of sickness, uncertainty or discouragement, it’s easy to start questioning our circumstances or life choices, even ones we’ve always believed were sound. Asking God to show us the truth about those decisions is helpful. So is reflecting on seasons where His goodness was abundantly evident.

It also can be beneficial to switch lenses and intentionally zoom in on parts of our past where God’s lovingkindness might not be immediately obvious.

From “What to Remember When the Future is Foggy” …

It’s easy to get confused or turned around when we’re living through a foggy patch. When we can’t see clearly, our minds can play tricks on us. We might get paranoid or start questioning truth or facts that normally stabilize us.

When the fog lifts, as it usually does, those foundational facts and truths are right where they’ve always been. They didn’t change, no matter what we thought or felt when we couldn’t see our hand in front of our face.

Coming Soon

I have a new word for 2024, and I hope to write about it soon. That said. my journey of remembering is ongoing. And I have a sneaky suspicion you haven’t heard the last of it here.

• • •

If you choose a word for 2023, I’d love to know how it influenced your life in the last 12 months. If choosing a word is not your thing, feel free to share a verse, song or book that guided your life this year.

♥ Lois

While my word for 2023 has stayed with me like a patient and faithful friend, its impact has been more of a hodge podge, rather than anything I can outline in an organized list. Share on X Remembering is stirring the pot so nothing sticks to the bottom. Unsnarling a big ball of knots, one thread at a time. Savoring the sweetness of a long-forgotten scene. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with One Word 2023, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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A Tender Conversation about Grief, Encouragement and Peace

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Blogger Linda Stoll talks about reaching out to others with no hidden agenda and how God’s presence provides stability during the hardest transitions. Plus, what to do when we want to go to bed and stay there until 2024. ~

“Friendship … is born at the moment when one man says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…’” ~ C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

This kind of friendship can develop over cups of coffee, side by side on the walking trail and even in the comment section of a blog. Today, I’m happy to be joined by Linda Stoll, a fellow-blogger-turned-friend who has been nurturing community in the blogosphere since 2008.

A retired Christian counselor, Linda lives with her husband on Cape Cod, Mass. She is passionate about her faith in Jesus and her six grandchildren—she describes “cheering them on from afar and banging on heaven’s door for their needs” as her most important work.

She recently moved her online home to Substack, where her Grace and Space newsletter lives up to its promise of being “a calm haven where you might catch your breath and be refilled.”

Our blogging paths first crossed in 2015, I think. Since then, Linda has become a wonderful source of encouragement in my life.

Today, you get to peek in on an email exchange we had over the last few weeks. Rather than give her a whole list of questions, I started with one—pulled directly from my life at the moment—and let the conversation flow from there.

It was a fun way to do an interview, and I hope you are as blessed by her thoughtful responses as I’ve been.

• • •

LOIS: We went to Spain the week before Thanksgiving and came home with Covid. I haven’t been able to exercise for a week, and the lack of endorphins is starting to wear on me. I probably won’t feel this way after a nice warm shower, but right now I want to quit everything—writing, blogging, Instagram community, housekeeping, you name it.

To add insult to injury, my husband, who has Covid too, can’t taste anything, so neither of us have had dessert in more than a week.

I know God is with me. I know this too shall pass. But part of me also wants to go back to bed and stay there until 2024.

If you were sitting across the table from me right now, what would you tell me?

LINDA: Oh gosh, Lois, I am so sorry. Covid is such a beast and what a disappointment after that long-awaited trip. I don’t blame you for wanting to toss everything right out the window. Sure makes sense to me.

Please take the pressure off yourself to try to do business as usual. All those things you’re talking about can wait. I like what you said about a nice warm shower.

No need to plan out the week or the month. Maybe just one half day at a time? A hope-full question to consider—“how can I be kind to myself?”

I hope you can get outside for a simple 5-minute walk. The fresh air and even a bit of movement invites those endorphins to come out of hiding.

And yes please to a little dessert. And doing whatever brings peace to your soul. He meets us with a quiet kindness in these desolate places. He whispers, “Peace, be still.”

LOIS: Aw, Linda … your words are a balm for me, as they have been to so many others over the years. Tell me, has encouragement—especially via the written word—always come so naturally for you?

LINDA: Right off the top I’ll say, “No way.” I am by nature self-absorbed, a glass half-full person, a whiner. I own that. So anything good I am or have to offer is only because of God’s grace working overtime in my life.

It might sound pious but it’s the truth.

All that said, I do believe that we often give to others what we inwardly crave for ourselves. It’s not at all a conscious thing. But if our love language is words of affirmation, it’d be no surprise that we offer encouragement, sometimes lavishly, in order to get our own yearnings met.

My mom had a huge ministry of encouragement via the written word … cards, notes, poems. These beautifully crafted little masterpieces faithfully arrived in mailboxes for many years and impacted countless people with the gentle, lovingkindness of Jesus.

Again, it’s only when we find our identity and deepest needs met in Christ that we can reach out to others with no hidden agenda.  Praise God that He does this for us as we open ourselves to His endless love.

LOIS: My mom had the same kind of ministry as yours, though it’s one of many things about her that I didn’t fully appreciate until well after she died. Are there things about your mom or dad that you have come to appreciate more since they went to heaven?

LINDA: This sounds awful, but I can’t say that there’ve been any new revelations. I spent a lot of time with Mom in her final years and there were long, hard stretches in there to reflect, process, and deepen my appreciation for their lives, their faith, their legacies.

It was an exhausting season filled with a deeply felt anticipatory grief that drained me dry but left me with no regrets.

LOIS: I don’t think that sounds awful, Linda—what a huge blessing to have no regrets. I always expected to lose my parents like you did; first one, then the other years later. Instead, they died within five weeks of each other, after an intense and unexpected season of decline.

I’ve often wondered why it had to happen this way for our family, and the answer always comes from the Narnia quote hanging above my kitchen sink: “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”

What do those powerful words mean to you, at this time of your life?

LINDA: I’ve learned that the story God has written for me is uniquely mine. No need to compare, be envious or judge where another soul finds herself. When all is said and done, I am confident that He judges justly with lovingkindness and great wisdom. All will be well. This truth gives me a lovely peace.

LOIS: That kind of peace is truly what anchors us during life’s devastating storms, isn’t it? If I’m remembering correctly, your father died suddenly shortly after you moved to be closer to your parents. How did that experience change you? Did working through the shock and loss prepare you at all for what the coming years held (the pandemic, your mom’s slow decline and death, etc.)?

LINDA: Dad died the day after we moved from New York to Cape Cod. Although he wasn’t in the best of health, it was sudden and unexpected. In fact, we had made the quick decision to move here because his mind was getting a bit fuzzy and we wanted to live nearer to them.

It was like he said, “OK, God, they’re here now—Mom’s in good hands,” and he keeled over as he was cleaning up the kitchen after a steak dinner. Really. When we saw his body a few hours later in the hospital, I remember crying out, “But Daddy, we just got here.” I thought we’d have a longer season with him.

Yes, it was a shock and a terrific loss.

I learned a whole lot about transitions during the months that followed. The move from New York after living there for 38 years. Leaving long-time friends and the counseling ministry I loved. Acclimating to a new way of life, a different culture, trying to fit in at church. And then our little grandson died suddenly.

But that’s a whole other story and not mine to tell. Bottom line is that I’ve lost eight loved ones in the eight years we’ve lived here. The cost to my emotional health has been high, but God has remained ever-present and faithful to me through anxiety and depression and everything that came with the grieving and the pandemic and all the things.

I’ve learned that He is the Redeemer of all our sorrows and specializes in restoring “the years the locusts have eaten” (Joel 2). The work I’ve been able to do in the last few years has been rich, joyful and rewarding. Writing online and ministry at church have saved my life. I find myself in a sweet spot in this season. I’m grateful.

LOIS: I’m grateful too, Linda … for your writing ministry and your friendship. Thanks for sharing your heart with us today.

• • •

Friends, if you’ve been encouraged by Linda’s story, feel free to leave her a message in the comments. She shares powerfully about grief in this post. And be sure to check out more of her writing at her new online home, Grace and Space. You’ll be glad you did.

♥ Lois

It’s only when we find our identity and deepest needs met in Christ that we can reach out to others with no hidden agenda. ~ Linda Stoll Share on X I’ve learned that the story God has written for me is uniquely mine. No need to compare, be envious or judge where another soul finds herself. ~ Linda Stoll Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

Photos provided by Linda Stoll

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When Going through the Motions is the Best Way Forward

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Even though we can’t spot measurable growth, we still might be making progress. Keep reading to discover when going through the motions isn’t just OK, it’s necessary. ~

I feel like I’m just going through the motions. 

Perhaps you’ve heard people say this about a relationship, their work or their spiritual lives. Perhaps you’ve even said it yourself.

Chances are, it was presented as a negative. If you’re going through the motions, something is wrong, right?

Not Necessarily

There are scenarios when going through the motions, especially when it’s long-term and habitual, is not a healthy way of living. Like in a marriage, when husband and wife are like two ships passing in the night, day after day.

But there are other circumstances when going through the motions isn’t just OK, it’s necessary. Take physical therapy, for example. It involves literally going through specific prescribed motions to heal from injury, strengthen muscles and relearn vital movements.

Any kind of exercise involves repetitive motion, in fact. I think of this quite often when I’m running in the summer.

Step by Step

I don’t look forward to stepping out into the Kansas heat and humidity several mornings a week. As sweat pours down my face, I want to give up with every slogging step.

But I force my legs to keep going through the motions. And before I know it, I’m back at home. I might hate it while I’m doing it, but it’s good for me, so I keep after it.

We’d never criticize anyone else for going through the motions while exercising. So let’s not be too hard on ourselves when it feels like we’re doing the same in other parts of life.

A Spiritual Lifeline

Different seasons bring different feelings and challenges. Those of us who are naturally routine oriented often have to become more flexible so we can go with the flow when our plans are disrupted.

Sometimes, though, going through the motions is the only source of stability we might have. Even when it comes to our spiritual lives.

Prayer and Bible reading shouldn’t feel like drudgery all the time, but they do take effort and commitment. There’s a reason they’re called spiritual disciplines, not spiritual fun.

A Holy Example

Praying for the same needs and concerns day after day might get old to us, but if the words come from the heart, what’s the problem? When Jesus was teaching His disciples to pray, He didn’t say, “OK, guys, here’s a sample prayer but you have to change it up every week so it doesn’t get stale.”

No, He said, “You should pray like this,” and proceeded to share what we know of as the Lord’s Prayer (see Matthew 6:9-13). We’d be hard pressed to find a collection of words that have been offered in prayer more than this model petition.

The Jewish people repeated many prayers from the scriptures during various holidays, festivals and daily rituals. Repetition didn’t diminish their power or importance; it reinforced it.

The Heart of the Matter

What’s the difference between sincere repetition and going through the motions, spiritually speaking? Either is better than nothing, I think. But motivation is at the root.

We live in an emotionally based world, but long-term relationships—including our relationship with Jesus—aren’t built on emotion. If you sincerely desire to spend time with God but believe those moments have become rote or stagnant, don’t lose heart.

Even when we feel like we’re just going through the motions, we’re still moving. Even when we can’t spot measurable growth, we’re still making progress.

The faith muscles we’re developing in these dry seasons will serve us well later—we can be sure of that. So let’s keep going—one step at a time, one day at a time, one prayer at a time.

♥ Lois

We'd never criticize anyone else for going through the motions while exercising. So let’s not be too hard on ourselves when it feels like we’re doing the same in other parts of life. Share on X Even when we feel like we’re just going through the motions, we’re still moving. Even when we can’t spot measurable growth, we’re still making progress. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Inspire Me Monday, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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Offer Your Best and Let God Do the Rest

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: If your assignment feels impossible and success seems unlikely, do what you know to do and trust God with the outcome. ~

The message came in that quiet way that makes me sit up and pay attention.

Put your offering on the altar.

I’d been pondering the impossibility of a project, mentally bemoaning the difficulty of the outcome I hoped for. But the message was clear. I’m supposed to do my part, and when I release it to wherever it goes, the result is out of my hands.

It’s not just out of my hands, of course. It’s in the hands of Elohim, our Creator God, who hung the stars in their places and is always doing a new thing (Isaiah 43:19).

When we place something on the altar, we’re giving it up to Him, to be consumed how He deems best.

Our Role

We are responsible for offering our first fruits—the best of what we have, of what we can do. But, contrary to what we often think, we are not responsible for providing the fire.

We can rub all sorts of sticks together, metaphorically speaking, hoping for a spark that will burst into a roaring flame. But that’s not our job.

We bring the sacrifice; God provides the flame.

Obstacles

It can be difficult to know what constitutes our best. And where the altar is. And when to lay it down, finally.

Resistance rears its ugly head in many forms. Doubt and fear trip us up. Comparison and the possibility of rejection make us think we’re better off not even trying.

But whatever our offering is—a book we’re writing, a ministry opportunity, a new blog or newsletter, a service we hope to offer, some kind of curriculum, etc.—at some point, we need to take the next step.

To place it on the altar and see what God has planned.

What Now?

I don’t know what offering you might need to put on the altar as 2023 draws to a close. My guess is that it’s something different for each of us, and that we each have our own set of apprehensions about what might happen when we finally put it out there.

God has not given us a spirit of fear, though. So whatever it looks like, let’s lay our offerings down together, trusting that He who has begun a good work in us will not fail to complete it.

♥ Lois

We can rub all sorts of sticks together, hoping for a spark that will burst into a roaring flame. But that’s not our job. We bring the sacrifice; God provides the flame. Share on X When we place something on the altar, we’re giving it up to God, to be consumed how He deems best. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Inspire Me Monday, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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