Could It be, that God says of Me, "That's My Girl! I'm So Proud of Her!"

I sat back in my chair, on a warm summer night, and watched her play soccer.

I could easily pick out who she was, on the field, even from a distance. She is my daughter. I know her. Pigtails popping back and forth, long legged and graceful like a gazelle, she floated down the field.

Watching her brought me joy.

She maneuvered fancy footwork.  She fell down and bounced right back, still going strong.  She kicked for a goal and scored! She kicked for another goal, and missed. She "high-fived" a team mate, with a word of encouragement. She kept on going.

I smiled to myself, "That's my girl! I'm so proud of her!" 

I love watching her run and play and try her best, even when she falls, and even when she has a hard game.  I am proud of her, not just in soccer, but because of who she is.

As I sat there, I found myself wondering -- when the Lord watches me live and persevere and try my best, even when I fall, could it be, that He thinks of Me, "That's my girl!  I'm so proud of her!"

The problem is, I don't always look at the Lord as being happy with me.

I see Him frustrated or critical or disappointed or angry.

What about all the times I fall down and don't just pop back up?  What about when I am no longer strong, but overwhelmed and weak?  What about the goals I've missed and the times I've failed?  Or the ways I've let others down or Him down or myself down?  What about all the broken places in me that are not beautiful? 

I see Him displeased with me.

But the Lord is trying to help me see differently.

He's been showing me and telling me, in a myriad of ways, "Dear daughter, no matter what, when I look at you, I say 'That's My girl!' I know you, I made you, I love you, I chose you and I rejoice over you. Believe it! Even when you fall, even when you fail, even when you are tired and don't know what to do, even in your brokenness, I still love you. I love you, not for what you do or don't do, but because you are Mine.  You're my girl!"

I've needed these words in the past few weeks. I've needed the reminder that He's watching me, watching over me, and cheering me on. He unfailingly adores me. 

From time to time, I doubt His love for me. When I mess up or want to give up or when my faults and failures in the present and past cloud my vision, I flounder.  But I'm asking Him to help me to see what He sees and believe what He says, "That's My girl! I'm so proud of her!" 

Maybe you need these words today, too.

Let me pray for us.

Dear Lord, help us to see who we are from Your perspective.  Help us to believe that You love us and look on us with great care, not critically.  Help us to believe that You are fond of us, not frustrated with us. Help us to believe that you are devoted to us, not disappointed in us. Help us to see ourselves as You see us, not perfect, but saved by Your Son, and chosen and dearly loved.  Forever. Amen

I Feel a Gentle Nudge

I slip my faux-fur coat on, falling in to the usual morning routine of getting the kids to school.  The thermometer reads 19 degrees F.  The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon. It is winter in Wisconsin. 

Grabbing my purse and coffee, I head out the door.

“Mom!  Don’t forget me!” the littlest dear yells from the other room, gathering her own things and thoughts together.

“I won’t” I respond, reassuringly, I think.

I climb in to the car, start the engine and back out of the garage.  I shiver. The seat sits cold under my legs.  The steering squeaks as I slowly back the car out of the garage.  Plumes of smoke hover and then dissipate on this frigid day.

My desire is to warm the car for the sake of my children.  I care for them.  

I scurry out of the car and head back in to the house.

Simultaneously the littlest one rushes out the door, back pack flung over her shoulder, coat half on.  Anxiety casts a shadow across her hurried face.

“Mom! I thought you left without me!” she fears.

“No dear, I was just warming up the car for you.  I am right here.  You’re fine. No need to hurry or worry.”

I walk back in to the house to double check all systems before take off.

I feel a gentle nudge.

It is from the Lord.

“Remember, Andrea.  When I go before you to prepare a way for you, it does not mean I’ve left you behind, either.  I’m right here.”

I need to hear this, because I am prone to forgetting.

I know better, but I wander near the woods of doubting His presence.

I pause, aware of Him now, and choose to believe that He goes before me and at the same time, walks alongside of me.

I turn out the lights and grab my gloves, making my way outside to the car, thinking of the things I have to face in this day, thinking of Him, thanking Him.

The little one rests, now reassured in the warmth of the car. 

I rest, too, in the warmth of His love.

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  Deuteronomy 31:8.

Do You Have a Minute?

I had a killer headache, the kind that feels like your head is being wrenched between 2 semi-trucks, with their engines rumbling loud, but I had a lot to do.

Hair wrapped around my head like a messy birds nest, I pushed past the 2 sets of double doors in to the church office, rushing in to church, intending to rush out.

I just needed to drop something off quickly.

“Hi Patti!  Just dropping of a few things!” I chattered to our church receptionist, not even pausing to ask her how she was.

She responded differently.

“How are you today, Andrea?”

“Okay,” I said, less than convincingly and hesitating to be honest.

“I do have a headache.” 

And then, amidst my long to-do list and weakness and fatigue, I saw Jesus.

Looking at me kindly, Patti slowly stood up from her chair.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” I said, while an old tape popped in to play in my mind causing me to think, -- oh, no, I wonder what she wants to talk to me about.  What did I do wrong now?

“Come sit down in my chair for a minute.  Let me help you.”

And so, I curiously sat down in the middle of the church reception area.

And Patti began to massage my head. 

People came, people went.  People wondered if they could get in line.  I sat there, and soaked it all up.  It was wonderful.

The thing is, I wasn’t expecting the Lord to minister to me in such a way on that day. I wasn’t looking for Jesus.

But Jesus, He was looking at me, and His servant Patti, out of a heart that cares about people, was His willing vehicle of love.

She took a chance. She offered her care.  She gave of herself.

She’s a good reminder to me that we just never know what a ‘minute of care’ will do for someone else. The Lord calls us to be aware of opportunities that He gives us to love one another.  

Her offering herself made my whole day.  My headache gradually subsided after that. My shoulders hung a little looser. My heart a lot lighter.

Thank you, Patti. Thank you, Jesus.