When You're About to Give Up

Blow after blow. Life delivers accurately like a boxer's punches hitting you where it hurts the most. What do you do? Buckle down? Throw up your hands and run? Or hide? Or say, "Where is God?" Doubting Him as if He hasn't cared enough, loved enough or given enough proof that He does?

Sounds like Job's wife.

There was a great man named Job, God-fearing and blameless, who had everything--- a beautiful family and great possessions--- all that any man could dream of during his time. Then out of nowhere (for Job), catastrophe after catastrophe fell and he lost his children and all his possessions. Next, he got boils, painful to the core and occupying freely his skin from head to soles. That's when his wife spoke up: “Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9).

It's so easy to turn into Job's wife, when the loving and responsible man you envisioned your husband to be morphs into less than what he seems, when the family you've wanted become a constant reminder of your weaknesses, when you're fighting the strong current of recession or onslaught of disease, or when you're simply trying to keep your head above a business fast sinking or stress at school or work.

Recently I had a similar sentiment as Job's wife, even as I felt like I couldn't recover from another blow. But I heard Job reprimanding me, "Don't be foolish!" And I realized the blow was more on my pride than what I thought was my faith. Oh, I, of little faith!

And for days, I was a wimp. I wasn't strong, even as Christian friends encouraged me. I wasn't brave, nor happy, or hopeful. I was disappointed, frustrated and full of regrets--- if only...

Until a memory in Facebook reminded me of what I had written two years ago, when I was away from my husband and children, and all my longing was centered on being back with them. Ironically, now that I'd gotten what I wanted, I realized that it was really not what I wanted. I want a Christian home. Year after year, night and day, I struggled to keep my family together in walking with the Lord. And there were plenty of times I felt alone.

So there I was, wanting my something but the nothing was not an option. I have to settle for what I have and what I have is imperfect.

I didn't like that. As the days passed and I wallow in pity, having a party no one else can join, and mad at God, Job spoke to me... and a cup, too.

Job's voice in my thoughts as he reprimanded his wife:

“You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. 

Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” (Job 2:10).

 Right after, I heard him worship God, 

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

And naked shall I return there.

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;

Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

(Job 1:21)

I felt foolish. 

When Jesus bore that cross on His shoulders, no sound of whining escaped His mouth. After all, that cross was supposed to be mine. When He hanged there with a broken heart, He did so without regret, because He loves me. How can I ever doubt that He cares? 

I thought marriage had made me better. And motherhood. And all those books and courses. And sermons and Bible studies. And life lessons and experiences. And people I've met and know. But I failed. And in failing, I blamed God for not changing my circumstances and the people around me. After all these years.

God though is merciful. I didn't get what I deserve--- a spank on the bottom. Instead, I got a picture of a cup, imperfect but beautiful with its rough edges.

One imperfect cup as made by a famous ceramic artist, told me there's beauty in imperfection. Ah, yes, and in authenticity. I know my reaction to my situation was totally uncalled for for a Christian and that was why I felt disappointed. In myself. I thought I knew better. I thought I was on my way, as I long for, to becoming a better person, one with God's Kingdom in her. But, no, I still run out of faith.

And there I was, with faith dead as the ashes. And with anything dead, only God can bring back to life. So even as faith died, God was there.

Remember Elijah? He felt alone, praying himself dead and hid himself in a cave (1 King 19:9,10). But even with His lack of faith, God was there.

David, despite committing a great sin, knew this for sure. "The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?" (Psalm 118:6).

In all our struggles, God is with us. We are never alone, even when we feel that we are.

And all those rough spots in our character and life? All those out of our control? Ah, the Lord is still in control, especially, with all those that are out of our control. He is still God. He makes our rough edges beautiful--- stripping us of the cover-ups and masks that we put on to hide our real selves and our self-sufficiency. We may appear imperfect, but in His hands we are beautiful, fitted to reveal His glory. Because, yes, we were made for His glory and His alone.

So tonight, I want to worship with Job: The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord!





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Ways (for a Mother) to Keep Calm

Rain is dripping outside when all I really want to do is go out for a walk and breath in some fresh air. Having been inside all day, I feel caged with my mind busy with a million things and with no direction. And when I am in such a sorry state, it shows in how I treat my children.

I yell at them. If not, I can go on and on with, "See, what you did?" I get sarcastic with them. I disrespect, forgetting that they, too, have feelings.

Afterwards, I feel bad and guilty. I punish myself by telling myself how horrible a mother I am. And when I don't feel good, all those bad emotions spill out to my children, even with my best intentions. It's a vicious cycle.

Angelika came home today determined to tell me the truth about losing the R50-bill I gave her for bus fare in coming home from school. Instead, she walked home. She wanted to be honest with me and prayed hard that I won't be angry with her. Of course, I've also resolved to stay calm when my children endeavor to tell me the truth. But as I spoke to her about what happened, I felt that angry bile rising and my voice rising with it. Angelika stood with head bowed. With much control, which I didn't feel at that moment, I stopped my tirade and told her to excuse herself as a student was coming soon for a private class with me. She went to her room.

While I got busy, I couldn't stop reprimanding myself at what I did. Leaving everything, I purposefully went to the girls' room but found the door close. Angelika locks herself in whenever she's upset with anyone, and this time she was upset with me. It wasn't locked when I turned the doorknob and I found her sitting on the spare bed hugging her legs, but she moved out of that position right away. I know I've botched it. So I just looked her in the eyes and said, "I love you." There were questions in her eyes but she remained speechless. "I love you," I said again, then softly closed the door. Later, I felt like I should have hugged her or shown more affection.

After my class and my student was gone, she came down from her room and told me, "Mom, you said 'I love you' when you came to my room." I nodded. Then she added, "I love you more."

From this incident, I've learned that even as we blow off ourselves before our kids, it's not the end yet. We can redeem what we've lost. But before totally making an embarrassment of ourselves, we can take measures. Here are some ways...

Keep Calm

1. Breath. Often when I do my breathing, I say a prayer. I find it easier to keep perspective on what is going on when I do. While others count numbers, I count on God's promises. He said,

The Lord gives strength to his people. 

The Lord blesses his people with peace.

(Psalm 29:11)

Another way to use breathing to calm down, which I've learned from one of my classes while working for my MA Counseling, is to visualize breathing in goodness and exhaling the toxic emotions out, example: anger, worry, etc. Feel the muscles in your body, the nerves, the organs inside, the tiny parts like the toes, fingers and eyes, etc, and bid them calm down and relax.

2. Go out. Just like kids need the time and space outside without walls, parents need that same space and time. A change of environment and fresh air can do wonders to a mind and body going numb with so much emotions and activity going on.

3. Have a time-out. I don't see time-out as a way to discipline but to teach children life skills, most importantly, in managing emotions. A mother taking a time-out when emotions are escalating is not only stopping herself from blasting off into the hell-world of uncontrollable anger, but also modeling to her children on what to do when they are caught in the same situation with peers, family and other people.

As long as it is safe to do so, retreat to a safer place alone. Whatever you do, whether to listen to music or take a walk or lie down on the floor alone while staring at the ceiling or read the Bible and talk to God, give yourself permission to break away from the chaos within and without. Or simply take the time-out just to escape for a few minutes from the daily grind of kids, chores and other tasks that you've set out to do. Put it on your list of things-to-do if possible. 

4. Feed yourself well. Often, mothers are so busy loading laundry, washing dishes, responding to the kids' calls that they forget that they haven't even had breakfast and it's already a few minutes before lunch time. This is so true for me. Sometimes I forget I need to drink water even as I go around giving cups with water to my kids to drink. No wonder that a mother's fuse can grow so short.

5. Don't rob yourself of sleep. I am very guilty of this even as I'm typing. I have always seen the time when my kids are sleeping as time for me to do many chores and writing tasks that I couldn't do when the kids are awake, but I've realized how in the process I am sabotaging my own plan. So for now, this blogpost will have to wait to be finished in another time while I sleep.

Tomorrow I'll write about redeeming what we lost after we've lost our cool. Stay with me. At the mean time...

I can lie down and sleep soundly because you, Lord, will keep me safe.

(Psalm 4:8)

Good night! 

Grace

Spring by Russian artist Stanislav Zhukovsky

I came in peace, I sowed discord.
I sought to belong, I got rejection.
I wanted love, I found animosity.
I long for family, I made an enemy.

Through it all, God answered my needs.
Grace for all my frustrations, my emotions,
Grace for depression, for desperation,
Grace for arid valleys and destructive storms,
Sufficient grace even before I call.

In my struggles and restlessness,
He brought quiet rest.
I wrestle for rights, for supremacy,
I see His full glory in humility.

So I bowed as He took on Himself my faults.
Grace for all my weaknesses, my peccadilloes.
Grace for my inability, my futility,
Grace for fruitless years and empty life,
Abundant grace for a sinner such as me.

In victory I stand as I embrace His promises.
I conquer on my knees in Jesus' blessed name.
I overcome as He holds me--- Jesus, hold me.
I give grace, for Your grace is enough for me.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,

 for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 

Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, 

that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

*The verses above came about as I reflected on Abigail's life and example, and of course, I couldn't help but look on my own life and reactions. You may read Abigail's story on 1 Samuel 25. She is one amazing woman who, instead of focusing on injustice and rejection, chose to live in grace and give grace. She didn't dwell on her arid valleys but instead stored up in abundance kindness and generosity. When her moment came, the one where only she could avert disaster and use the gifts God had given her, she was more than ready. She rose up to the occasion.

I more than know that we often have our "arid valleys" and "destructive storms", whether brought on by circumstances or our own sinful tendencies, they cause us to cry out against God or to God. Whatever you choose to do, God's grace is abundantly made available for you. It is there to meet our every need. It is there to fill up our nothingness. It is there to grasp and hold on--- sufficient to the day, hour, minute, and moment of trial and weakness. Let Him hold you. His grace is enough.





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Beauty
Am I On the Right Road?
Embracing God's Promises

Courage

I have decided to follow Jesus. I've sung this since I was wearing childish bangs. These past few weeks, though, I have found myself needing some dose of courage. And true to His words, God provided me the encouragement to be brave.

I know I had been putting the decision off, thinking somehow that if I don't do anything or speak at all it will resolve itself. (Isn't that what we often wish? As if, evolution works!) But God works and in His mysterious way, He got my attention. Now I'm on to it and like a dog with a bone, I won't let go until I get my answer. The right one--- in line with His law of love.

I'm talking about being a mother, one who is given the responsibility to protect and raise God's children, providing them what they need and nurturing them to grow in the knowledge and grace of their Ultimate Parent. Because as women, we are builders of our homes. "The wise woman builds her house" (Proverbs 14:1). 

Keep It Simple

Winter in Russia by Oksana Yushko

Sipping my tea while waiting for Ella to finish her cereal, I type away as the two older kids torture each other with tickles. It's almost mid-morning but it's hard not to savor the last of the holidays. Tomorrow things will be back to usual--- waking up at seven, groggily making way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for my son while wiping away sleepy cobwebs from eyes and ignoring a more incessant call for sleep with a pounding headache, and after that, get Ella ready for kindergarten. Usually, after seeing them off, Roxy's robust voice will be heard calling for her mom. Or for potty time. Or breakfast.

But that's for tomorrow. Today, I've got today. I have a choice to do what I want with it. But what?

We got to celebrate Christmas yesterday and the day before that. And since it was Sabbath, I was doubly blessed. I was able to take part in a musical program, sang two beautiful songs and the next day, had a party with the young ones.

Actually, if I haven't come to this part of the world, I won't know at all that many observe Christmas way past the new year, unlike most countries who do so on December 25th. And I'm glad to be ending all these holiday-making (from December 25th to the New Year to January 7th) with the thought of Christ's first advent. And the reason why I'm still here. Here, anywhere in this world. And why I'm waiting, so earnestly for Jesus' second coming.

The Basic Essential

We have been enjoying a lot of snow since last week and much lower temperatures, too. When one goes outside, furry boots and coats are moving about, but those are actually ladies bundled inside, looking like elegant snow bunnies--- and me, a cute grizzly bear. Haha. Kids get their snowsuits as everyone know that they can't help themselves from rolling about in the snow. And the men? They have their thickly padded jackets that they all look like Iron Man, all muscles with their potbellies or bony frames hidden.

But underneath all these wrappings and trappings are flesh and bone beings, who get hungry and thirsty, need sleep and laughter, who long to love and be loved.

When all the big houses are gone and great accomplishments, and money too, all that's really left is the sky, soil and you. And people, who are no different than you... in the same form as when we first came forth.

7 Tips for a Joy-filled Parenting

"Good morning, Mom!"

Startled, I woke up from a deep sleep. I groaned. I still wanted to sleep, so I ignored the cheery voice, which was too cheery for a Saturday morning. Why can't I get an extra hour of sleep today like everyone does before my day starts and ends again at 12:00 midnight?

The childish voice came again, "Good morning, Mom! Wake up!" So I replied, "Mama is still sleepy. Please lie down again," trying to sound as sleepy as I could.

"Mama, wake up," the 'little dawn' shines, more insistently this time. So I rolled out of bed, head pounding and scooped my little toddler out of her crib (still didn't get to moving her to a toddler bed, no budget yet) and towards her potty. She held her arms wide open, ready to hug me tight, with a huge, bright smile on her face. I couldn't help but smile back and whisper, "Good morning, Roxy," as her little arms embraced the whole of my heart.

My day has officially began.

Autumn Song

As the leaves change their colors
As the wind blows yet unseen
As my eyes wander at the beauty around me
My mind tries to grasp Your majesty.

Power, authority, is Yours alone
But what really moves me
Are Your mercies new daily.

Unfailing love that holds me
Lifting me up to a place of dignity
Where I cannot walk on my own
But You've walked this road
Yes, Lord, You've walked
To carry me home.

I hear the children's laughter
The best music there is
My heart is rich with longing for the day
When You'll be calling out my name.

From Drug Hell Into God's Hands (Part 2)

Good day!

God has "called [us] out of darkness into His marvelous light" (1 Peter 2:9) that we may be "children of light" (Eph. 5:8).

Today, I am certain that you will all be blessed with our guest post today. It is an incredible story of God's love and His mighty power working to save us. When I first read this (for editing), I cried a million tears as I personally know Tudor. But I never thought he went through this as he was growing up. He admits he made bad choices--- really bad choices--- that set him out on a life of drug hell. Now, I am praising God with him for what He did, showing us that He is able to save. Oh, how He loves each of us so much. And He aches to bring us home with Him, despite of our brokenness. For He alone can forgive sins and can heal broken lives. I'm not going to say more. Let Tudor tell you of what God did.

By the way, this is the second part. If you haven't read the first part, please click over here From Drug Hell into God's Hands (Part 1). Be blessed!

From Drug Hell Into God's Hands (Part 1)

Good day!

God has "called [us] out of darkness into His marvelous light" (1 Peter 2:9) that we may be "children of light" (Eph. 5:8).

Today, I am certain that you will all be blessed with our guest post today. It is an incredible story of God's love and His mighty power working to save us. When I first read this (for editing), I cried a million tears as I personally know Tudor. But I never thought he went through this as he was growing up. He admits he made bad choices--- really bad choices--- that set him out on a life of drug hell. Now, I am praising God with him for what He did, showing us that He is able to save. Oh, how He loves each of us so much. And He aches to bring us home with Him, despite of our brokenness. For He alone can forgive sins and can heal broken lives. I'm not going to say more. Let Tudor tell you of what God did.

By the way, this post comes in two parts, so don't forget to come back to find out what happened next. Be blessed!

How It All Started

I never had an alcoholic drink until I got to highschool. And that, is a big deal as I come not only from a Christian home but one that advocates a healthy lifestyle. Not only that, I was also educated at a Christian school. My friends, however, persuaded me to drink alcohol with them. I said to myself at that time that that would be the first and last time I would drink, with only two or three glasses. But it didn’t happen that way.

A week later, my friends invited me to go out drinking with them again, but I told them that I wouldn’t be drinking. I don’t know if they believed me, but it didn’t matter because I found myself drinking for the second time. I once again resolved not to do it any more. But the following week was the same story--- my friends invited and I got drunk.

Am I On The Right Road?

It has been raining for several days. The skies are overcast with dark clouds, the atmosphere is dripping with rain and seldom does the sun take a peep just to say hello. When it does, it disappears so quickly that I had a feeling it has gone shy or is trying to be mysterious by hiding behind the curtains of the rain.

I cannot imagine being out there in that rain for a long period, drenched and in need of a good wring. But I do have an idea.

When I was in Seoul, Korea, I went out with a small group of young people from our church consisted of men, with the exception of myself, to climb Mt. Seorak. Seoraksan, as it is called, is the third highest mountain in Korea. The ladies decided not to go as they had seen that the weather was raining and predicted that it won't be worth the effort to go up. But I thought that I won't be in Korea forever and that may be my only chance to explore a new place and do something interesting--- climb Korea's most beautiful mountain. My companions were worried for me but I assured them that if I get too much of a burden, then they just have to leave me. For which, they shook their heads vigorously. Being a foreigner, my life was in their hands.

Adolescence: The Busy-ness of Growing Up

Former learning mates :D

I had a pretty long day teaching last Tuesday. I have large classes of students to teach this year. But the day was made extremely long because of my six-inch stiletto heels. :)

For the life of me, I can not find any reason why I wore it, except that I wasn't thinking. Or probably, I regressed to my adolescent years when I felt insecure for being short.

But after being in this world this long and after all the years of education, I should know by now that a man's worth (and most importantly, a woman's) is not in his height or appearance. Pardon me, I forgot. I forgot that what matters is not on the surface but what's deep down inside us.

So I spent a whole day with pinched feet as I taught lessons, miserably learning my own lesson. And it didn't help at all that even in my painful perch, the adolescents with their gangly legs towered over me.

Mean (A Poem for those who don't want to be one)

Your power over me
Tramples the little dignity left.
The respect kindling,
Struggling,
Choking,
To breath.
I huff and puff to fury.
I sizzle myself to crazy.
I stew and burn myself down.
Ready to gamble
The little
Of me.
Petty is not pretty.
I'd rather be gutsy
With words---
To reflect and deflect.
Create and dream.
Laugh and learn.
Grow up. Be me.
There's more than one way
To live,
To be.
And MEAN is NOT
I wannabe.

Copyright © 2016 zernahfaith



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It's More Than Just Laundry

On Over-Grown Hair, Growing Old and Living Forward

It's spring, it's raining, the greens are growing and I feel brand new. Well, my hair is. I chopped them off.

I had grown tired of my long, wavy mane after I had to fight with it every time I take a bath. It clutched and it clung at me like sea anemones. Also, the baby often tugs at the little that is left of it when she feels like riding a horsey. Most of my hair is in a habit of doing a free-fall. It is everywhere. I got so tired of it one evening that I took one of the kids' scissors and cut it myself.

But this kind of thing called hair just keeps growing if you happen to notice at all. Mine did and by the time I grew so frustrated, it had grown again resembling the appearance of a broom, but bushier and gristly. So they had to go.

I went to a hair shop. Or so it said in Russian in front of the place. But after a few weird stares of the people who were there as I walked around trying to find the one who mans the counter, I figured out that it was a man's world. A barbershop. Feeling like the village idiot, I exited.

Beyond the Storm: Peace

I am a mere mortal. I have a faulty understanding of how the Divine works. But it hasn't stopped me from trying.

Today is my mother's birthday if she were alive. My Ma--- loving, strong and tender. No one has seen her since that fateful night of November 8. She has disappeared in the storm together with my dear father. And, oh, how I've missed her.

There are times when I wonder what she would say to the things that are happening in my life-- celebratory or otherwise. She had been a bulwark in our home. She was courageous: taking on the journey God has set for her even if it meant giving up many of the things that could have been better in the world's eyes. She had always been excited for all of her children and it didn't matter for her whether we made it in the world because she knew each of us has a special path to take.

It has been hard accepting that she is gone. But God has not left me destitute.

The Sky and the Sea

The heavens declare the glory of God; And the firmament shows His handiwork.

Day unto day utters speech, And night unto night reveals knowledge.

(Psalm 19:1,2)

A few days ago, my family went on a hunting/fishing trip and made camp for a couple of nights by the seashore. As we witness the sun rise and set at such a breathtaking fashion, we didn't want to go back home even if it meant a nice, warm bath and comfortable beds. The children and I combed every inch of the beach. By afternoon of the first day, the baby was taking her own looooooong walks and I had to use Herculean tactics and effort to get her back to our camp site. The only indication of tiredness she showed were pretty nasty snoring by the time we slept before midnight. The children didn't want the days and the nights to end and mealtimes were fast, unlike at home when they could drag on for hours.

It's More Than Just Laundry!

I watch the growing mounds of laundry with dismay. They seem to have a life of their own! They turn right before my eyes from molehills into mountains. And when the task is great, the heart grows faint.

I want to turn around and run. This is a combat zone! But where? It's a couple of hours before midnight. Maybe I can just simply roll and... snooze off, hoping that by the time I wake up, the good Lord has turned all things new... or sorted out, ironed and folded. Ha!

So I go to the other part of the house where I usually feel welcome. Maybe a cup of tea and some cookies (and a teeny bit of chocolate) can relax my nerves, enough to get the job done.

To the kitchen I go. And I get more mortified. Right there on the sink is a towering giant made of dishes, pots and all sorts of oddballs one can usually find in the kitchen. They have piled up on top of each other, and those who have not been able to get to the pile are piteously crawling their way around making more mess to make up for their lost status in the kitchen kingdom.

The Beauty in Everyday

All in a mom's day.! Baby prettying up herself with a dress
and kid's toothpaste as 'face cream'

It's a dreary day today. Wet snow is falling and has blanketed the ground again. The sky is abundant with the fragrance of heavy clouds. Light comes early. We are moving from winter to spring. The time has been moved as the days are longer and the night shorter.

This is a day you want to stay home and stay under the duvet. And cuddle. Or read.

But I've got work to do. There's the baby to fed, the laundry to load, the dishes to wash, the meals to cook, the floor to vacuum as the wet snow turns the ground to mush and mud dried up is a daily visitor in the house.

Rest: Jesus' Secret to a Well-Balanced Life

Source

Most days I run around the house trying to get things done before going to work or before going to bed at midnight. These 'must do' tasks sometimes just bobs up in the surface like a hard to clean pan that I must scrub bright or a cleaning supervisor will suddenly appear over my shoulder and "Tsk tsk" me for a job not done well. I have gotten to the point where I am confused which things I really should do.

Then I got sick. And gone is the strength that powered me as I zoomed my way through the hours of the day (and night). I was left with mounds of dirty laundry and ironing that I did anyway even though I didn't want to, and meals to cook even when I didn't want to eat. All I wanted was to disappear between the blankets, soothe my pounding head with the calming sound of my throaty, labored breathing.

Mount Up with Wings: Flying by More Than Just the Seat of the Pants

And so... it has been a week since the old year has been gone and the new year has begun. I am glad and grateful to see another year in my life. God is good!

How are you doing with your resolutions so far? As with every new year, I am often pressed to make new year's resolutions but it has been years since I had given up making a go at it. Instead I have brought before God in prayers my goals and dreams, and the intentions in my heart to live rightly, hoping fervently that He guides me every step of the way to fulfill them.

However, the past years had come with lots of surprises, pretty unexpected ones at that, and I was often left trying to swim through or wing it out by the seat of my pants (Ouch! Sounds painful). So, to counteract all this uncertain happenings, I am going to have a goal to make a goal. (So far, this week has given me  a bit of momentum. I have a list! Yay! :D)

And here's what I have in mind...

Aging in Grace

Doing her walk. Barefoot.
Which I so love to do!

Midlife. Life do accelerates after midlife.

So do aging. Wrinkles. Worries. And wilting.

May is my birth month. I just had my birthday. Another one in so many that I am blessed with. They are sure coming one after the other! Praise God!

This has been the first year that I have spent a whole year as an alien in Russia. Knowing from my previous experience of living in a foreign land, I will soon have to say goodbye to the honeymoon stage.

Life goes on.

And tomorrow will be my youngest baby's first birthday. And though I wish I can bake a cake, I prefer to buy one and spare myself the trouble of going crazy over flour strewn around looking like baby powder all over my kitchen. There is also the problem of what to do with an inedible cake. I don't even have any idea what baking powder is, or baking soda, or if a cake needs yeast or not. (If I sound ignorant, that is because I am. I am terrible in baking. That's why I am so mighty proud of my Bilinchik/Russian pancakes. Which, by the way, doesn't include baking.)

My baby, though, is not aging. I am.

Somebody suggested that I should stop counting my age. For him, it's just too many years and the more years, the more it gets embarrassing to mention.

Maybe he is right.

I'm no longer the young girl that I was.

But I don't feel even a tiny bit sorry for being past that season--- not with the acnes, the awkwardness and uncertainties.

Does this mean that I am for aging--- wrinkles, aches, senility and a boring existence?

Wrinkles, well... I am now careful with my sun exposure which was unheard of when I was younger. Having too much sun is dangerous. It's widely known now how sun exposure causes wrinkles, sagging and accelerates ageing.

Aches. Got to exercise!

But a boring existence? Really? As I grow older, I encounter more challenges than I care to handle.

And senility? How about if I read more books and make more friends than I care to eat my chocolates? That would be good for my aging brain.

Or maybe they mean, serenity. No amount of challenge can move you when you have already encountered them all. (Especially if you have moved  past the embarrassing and the murky.)

I prefer to thank God for adding years into my life, and ask, "What else do you have for me, Lord?"

Each new day is a miracle. In it is the knowledge that I may be growing in maturity and wisdom. If not, then I am given another chance to grow.

With age comes the promise of the fulfillment of dreams and richer experiences.

I'm looking at the other side of the coin--- the one filled with possibilities, life and adventure.

Besides, life is too short. God reminded me of how it really is.

As David was in anguish over the wicked, trying not to sin with his mouth by keeping silent, his feelings burned within him. (Can relate much. Sigh.) And he cried,

“Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days;
    let me know how fleeting my life is.
5 You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
    the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath,
    even those who seem secure."

Then David prayed. He is positive. And that kind of thinking is anti-aging.

“But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.
8 Save me from all my transgressions;
    do not make me the scorn of fools.

Hear my prayer, Lord,
    listen to my cry for help;
    do not be deaf to my weeping.
I dwell with you as a foreigner,
    a stranger, as all my ancestors were.
13 Look away from me, that I may enjoy life again before I depart and am no more.”
(Psalm 39:4,5,8,9,12,13)

My hope is in God. So is everyone else who believes in Him. In Him is salvation from sin, and our wrinkled, wracked-with-sin bodies. In Him we find grace.

We find a rich supply of grace as we live our short, borrowed lives in a world that is not truly ours. We dwell with Him.

Aging becomes not just a process we go through but a gift full of possibilities and one of it is the hope of getting closer to the heart of Jesus.

Growing wiser.
Making good choices.
Living a full and abundant life.
Leaving a legacy.

Aging in grace.