the implanted word

I'm mentally kicking myself for this cliché Christmas post. I say that so you know you don't need to do it for me, okay?

In the past few weeks, every friend I’ve talked to, every conversation I’ve eavesdropped overheard, every planning meeting I’ve sat in has sounded a little something like this:

“Ohmyword. It’s almost December. DECEMBER, people!”

“You should see my calendar. I am booked SOLID through January 1.”

“I cannot WAIT for Christmas to be over.”

Like Christmas is a punishment.
Like Christmas is a dreaded event.
Like Christmas is a nuisance or a hassle or—heaven forbid—a burden.

So, here we are—here I am—in this cliché of a post, because we need it.

James 1:19-21 (emphasis mine)
"Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness that God requires. Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls."

The thing that sets us apart as believers is that the Word is implanted in us. When we walk with the Lord—like really live Him and breathe Him and know Him, His Word isn’t a thing we carry with us or toss around or take lightly. It’s in us. We let it penetrate our hearts and it takes over.

The Word changes things. 

Pinterest

John 1: 1-5, 9-14 (emphasis mine)
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. […] The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth."

The thing that sets Christmas apart from just any plain ol’ holiday is that the Word was implanted in us. The Word who was with God, the Word who was God, left the presence of the Father and made His home with us. He walked with us and talked with us and never once took us lightly. He became with us. He penetrated hearts and He took over.

The Word changes everything.

Christ didn’t come to send your December into a tailspin. He came to save souls—yours and mine and many. He came to dwell with us and change us. 

And if the Word has truly changed me, my attitude this Christmas should reflect that. My pace, my budget, my joy. They should all be telling of a great change.

In a season when so many are lonely, broken, needing, and hurting, how many opportunities to minister and serve are we trading in and giving up because we’d rather be frantic than faithful? I’m guilty of it, but I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to remember that the Word has been implanted. I want Him to take over and I want to make the right kind of trade.

I want to be slow to speak, quick to listen.
I want to be slow to anger, quick to show compassion.
We can be slow to spend, quick to give.
We can be slow to fill our schedules, quick to pour into others.

The Word can change anything.

 

I forgot to mention grace.

I would like to thank anyone who noticed for not making a big deal about me missing day four.

Or day five.

Or six or seven. 

When I said that prescriptive lists are not my thing, I forgot to mention that an extra measure of grace would be needed for October. Thankfully, you didn't forget to show it. 

I will say, though, I was still sticking to the topic...

I was just doing it in real life. 

 

take it off the shelf.

For as long as I can remember, I've written stories.

On construction paper.
On word processors.
On computers.
In journals.
On napkins.
In daydreams.

I can meet a person and instantly dream up their story. I can imagine the backstory, the present, the future.

This can be a blessing and a curse. If I'm not careful, I can forget that my story is not reality; and let's be honest--reality is so much better.

On occasion, though, everyone needs to get away into a story. That is my specialty.

In my earliest memories of writing stories, I would sit on the floor in my Aunt Laurie's expansive home office and tell her the story I was dreaming. The office was long and narrow, with a high ceiling and built-in-shelves that spanned floor to ceiling. There were so many books, so many words; but she made me feel like my words were better and my dreams were bigger. She would type it all up, we'd add the perfect pictures, then print them out and add them to a purple, flexible binder. She called it my portfolio...long before I had any notion of what that meant, or that twenty years later, I'd actually need to have one.

And just like that--she created a moody, broody, daydreaming writer.
I could never be enough grateful.

I dove deep into writing in college, but it's one of those things I've shelved for "later".

Later when there's time.
Later when there's an audience.
Later when I have more experience.
Later when I'm older.
Later when whatever I write will be better received.
Just later.

It doesn't even make sense to me why we--why I--put off the things we love; and like I mentioned yesterday, the gifts we've been given were meant for now. 

It's about time we got around to using them.

What that you love have you been putting off?

an imagination set free

On one of the earliest birthdays I can remember, I received some very good gifts: a wooden rocking cradle for my many little babies and a red cassette player, much like this one.

image found here

Mine was a little darker, a little bigger, and had a strap (so my tape player looked like a purse and was easily portable for all of my backyard adventures). 

I took it everywhere. I wore it out. I remember taking it outside with me, setting it up next to my swingset, blasting whatever children's church musical I was currently obsessed with, and swinging and singing and acting out all the parts until I had exhausted every bit of energy. 

It was like I had my own constant soundtrack. Who wouldn't love that? 

Best gift ever, mom and dad.

It literally eliminated the walls around my dreaming. I could go anywhere and I could be anything. That cassette player set my imagination free.

My imagination, as we'll revisit in the coming days, is something I very much depend on.

The problem, though, is that it's getting harder and harder for me to dream things up. If I still had this old cassette player, I'd dust it off, play one of those old tapes, and see if that would help; but I don't know that it would.

I know the issue, in part, is that I haven't used my imagination much lately. I haven't exercised it and given it time to grow. I've been creative and crafty and made things, but I haven't dreamed anything.

And I'm becoming increasingly aware that the gifts God gives us are given to be used. That may seem so obvious, I needed to actually, really, in my heart learn it. Matthew 25:14-30 tells the story of a master who entrusts his servants with talents while he is away, but when he returns one of the servants hid the talents and did nothing with them, while the others invested theirs and reaped benefits and profits for the master. The master was very displeased.

I wholeheartedly believe that a wild imagination is a gift that can wildly benefit the kingdom, but I've been sitting idly on the one I was given. I want the Master to be pleased with how I've used the talent He entrusted to me. 

I might be twenty years past receiving that red cassette player, but I want to be just as free as the cotton-haired, wild girl who dreamed along with those songs.

It's time to set my imagination free.

comedic relief

At church a few Sundays ago, a little told me: "Miss Hannah, you make me crack!" 

Um...? "What do mean, Chloe?" 

Giggling wildly, she answered, "Just what I said, Miss Hannah. You're so silly. You make me crack!" 

"Oooh, do you mean I crack you up?" 

At that point she was laughing too hard to answer me, but I think I know what she meant.

___________________________

I think the number one thing we all need to know for these 31 days is this:

Hannah makes jokes when she's uncomfortable.

Now, before you start thinking I'm uneasy every time I make a joke--that's not the case. I really just like to make people laugh (and myself, to be honest); but when I feel nervous or vulnerable or a little too exposed, the sarcasm and jokes start flying at remarkable speeds.

Everyone has their own self-protective thing, and this, my dears, is one of mine.

This will probably be important information over the next month, because while I'm guessing that we'll jump deep into some sticky stuff, I can guarantee I'll make a joke about it.

When it happens, just laugh a little with me and let's keep moving, ok?

Do you have a self-protective "thing"? What's the first thing you throw out when you're uneasy or nervous? 

for a complete list of #31days posts, click here

31 days: meet you

I'm not great at prescriptive lists or challenges.
I'm even bad at the blog thing, period. You know that little part well. 

I've recently been encouraged, though, in two different conversations with two different people, to do two different things:

1. learn who I am
2. write.

With one commitment to 31 Days, I can do both.

Here's a quick breakdown of what I do and do not want this month to be.

I do not want this to be a "me, me, me" month, where I just ramble about myself.
If at any point that's what it seems like, you just tell me. I'll shut the whole thing down.

I do want this to be a place where, as I figure out who and how and why I am, you see some of who you are. I think that can happen. I hope it will.

I do want this to be a month of me letting people in. In one of the before-mentioned conversations, a friend who I love and who I know loves me broke it down so clearly.

She said, "Hannah, you show people the door before they even get to decide whether or not they want to stay. They might want to come in, sit down, stay a while, and get to know you; but you'd never know."

So this is me swinging the door open. This is me saying, "Come in. Sit with me. Stay and while and let's talk." I'll make the coffee, brew the tea...whatever you want.

I would love for you to stay.

This post will be home base for the month of October. Reference back here for a complete list of my 31 posts.

Day One: Comedic Relief: Hannah makes jokes when she's uncomfortable. 
Day Two: An Imagination Set Free: Hannah wants to dream wildly.
Day Three: Take it Off the Shelf: Hannah used to write a lot more stories.
Days Four - Eight: I Forgot to Mention Grace: Hannah missed a few days.

a vision illuminated.

photo credit: Pinterest

I have had a dream; a vision; a long-term, grand-scheme, God-given passion bubbling up in me for so long.

Several, really, but for now we're just talking about one.

It's been one of those things--you know the ones. You have a great idea, but can't put it into words. You can't map out a plan or get people on board because you're just not quite sure what to tell them. You just can't paint a picture that accurately embodies everything you're feeling, everything you're wanting.

I've been carrying around that kind of abstract vision for years. I still don't know what it will really look like or how exactly to plan the thing out, but I do know I can show you. I might be able to help you understand.

To lay a little groundwork, here are a few things that have led up to this point:

Growing up going to a girls' camp where girls were almost completely free to just be little girls and love God in big ways.

Tammie Head uncovering for me, four years ago, so many truths about the Lord and His desire for me to be in His presence, truths that were still cloudy for me even after being taught so well for so long. I told her at the end of that summer Bible study that I wanted to help girls get it earlier than I did.

Finally submitting and surrendering to teach and serve kids through whatever kind of ministry the Lord laid before me. It has been abundantly more than I could have asked for or imagined.

And so what the Lord had started, I couldn't wrap words around.
Until I saw this:

Sara Bareilles, "Brave" 

I've watched it almost every day since I first saw it.
I cry, start to finish, every single time.

That's it. That is so perfectly, wonderfully, everything-I've-been-looking-for it.

I want to create an evironment where girls are free. Free to be themselves. Free to worship. Free to be girls.

I don't know how big or how small or how old or how often. But that's exactly my vision in a four minute video.

The first time I saw it, the Lord so clearly whispered, "Look what I can do." ["I" as in "Him." Only He can do it.] And as I watched, I didn't see sweet little strangers, I saw the slightly more grown up faces of girls whom I know and adore. Girls whose boundless futures I pray for often.

Elizabeth
Karis
Eva
Moriah
Jemma
Gracie
Mallory
Callie
Reese
Jordan
Story
Lydia
Maddie
Hope
Avonlea
Kennedy
Kadence

My dream and my prayer and my hope for them is that they would be always comfortable in their own skin.

That they would laugh far more than they cry.

That they would walk boldly, unafraid of judging eyes.

That they would know early that God is who He says He is.

That they would blow us away by how they can be so small, yet walk so intimately with their Father.

That even though they'll undoubtedly be hurt by this world, they would seek Him first every time.

That with all the limits the world will put on them, they wouldn't put more on themselves.

That they would dance with confidence and love for people to be listening when they sing.

That they would actually feel beautiful and believe that they are radiant little souls.

That they would know they can really, truthfully, realistically change the world.

That they would never have to wonder whether or not we are watching them in wonder. They would know we are.

That they would know that their mothers and grandmothers and teachers and friends--their sisters--are cheering wildly for them as they run. That we would slow our pace and run with them.

That they would live confidently and without fear, knowing that we are begging big things for them in prayer. That we are on our knees for them, battling evil forces out to get them.

That they would be free.

"whoa, lady!"

If you're game, I'm willing to jump straight into this post and pretend like it hasn't been four months since I've even looked at this blog. I'll even tell you my most embarrassing moment of the whole summer to make up for it. Deal?...Deal. Let's do this.

For a couple of weeks in the past month, I was wrapping up a project at our ministry's warehouse/workshop/catch-all storage space; and it was HOT.

July. In Houston. Outside. Doing work.
I honestly loved it, but it was honestly hot.

So I made many trips to the same Sonic, several trips a day in fact.

On one of those Sonic trips, I was picking up a couple bags of ice for a group coming over for dinner.

Long, embarrassing story short...

I went through the drive-thru, ordered my Route 44 iced tea with mint and two bags of ice, rolled up to the window, and Morgan (we're on a first name basis now that I've completely humiliated myself in front of her) handed the first bag of ice through the window to me.

I thanked her, grabbed the bag of ice, then leaned over to sit it on the floorboard of my front passenger seat. It was just enough leaning, just enough weight shifted...

that my foot ever so slightly released the break. Oh, no. 

Oh, yes. But I was still very focused on getting that ice put away. I didn't have a clue what was happening until I heard,

"Whoa. Whoa, lady! Your car's movin'!" 

And you know what? It really was. Not quickly. Not far. But it was moving. I looked out my window and all I saw was a brick wall. The pick-up window was at least four feet behind me.

I had to put that car in reverse, get my second bag of ice (after Morgan and I stopped laughing), and drive shamefully away.

When I went back the next morning for my Route 44 ice water with lime, I tried to assure Morgan that people do that all the time.

She's says they don't.
Thanks for the humility, Morgan.

You're going to the movies! [giveaway winners announced]

Congrats to Katie and Jennifer!
Check your emails, ladies!

They both win a family 4-pack to see Escape from Planet Earth and a $15 Cinemark gift card.



Let's go to the movies! An Out-of-this-World Houston Giveaway

A few weeks ago, I checked my voicemail to find the sweetest little voicemail from Nephew #4, asking me to come along to see Escape from Planet Earth. No way was I passing that up. I met them at the theater, took a seat next to Nephew #1 and asked, "So what's this about?" He didn't have a clue.

We were both in for a treat.

Escape from Planet Earth is an exciting, fun and heartwarming animated film that may be the most pro-family, pro-marriage, pro-children, and pro-fatherhood films you will see this year. It tells of a superhero who finds himself trapped by evil forces on the distant "Dark Planet" (aka, Earth!) where only his nerdy brother Gary can save him, with the help of his devoted "stay-at-home" wife and enterprising young son.

I often need to pick or recommend movies that are SUPER kid friendly, so my "inappropriate radar" is always on when I'm watching films that show potential. Usually there's unnecessary adult humor, jabs at Christianity, or just junk in general. Are you ready for this?...

Escape from Planet Earth has NONE.
Honestly. NONE.
There is not one single moment that even the littlest of littles couldn't see. I could not have been more impressed!

Needless to say, when Whitney from Allied Faith & Family contacted me about giving away some tickets on the blog, I was thrilled.

Whether you have a family full of littles, or no kids at all, this movie is a great pick. Our crew included my sister, her four boys, my mom and dad, and myself. We all loved it!

____________________

What can you win?

Two of you can win:

A family-four-pack of tickets to see Escape from Planet Earth, provided by Allied Faith & Family.

Tickets can be redeemed at any Houston area Cinemark theater, Mon-Thurs (excluding holidays). Passes are valid as long as the film is in theaters.

A $15 Cinemark gift card.

Because I can't let you go to the movies for free and not throw in free popcorn. It would just be silly :) 

How can you win? 

Comment on this post and tell me what your favorite movie is and why. Really. That's it!

If you're not sure how to comment, email me at hannahlanestovall [at] gmail [dot] com and I'll add it for you.

Make sure that I have some kind of access to your email address, either linked through your Google or Blogger account or just leave it in the comment. 

You can comment once per day. You can only win one family pack, but it will up your chances of winning!

When will I announce the winners? 

Monday, March 18. 

Everyone needs a little Monday pick-me-up, right? Movie packs will also be mailed out on Monday. 

____________________

You will LOVE it! I'm certain. 

Thanks to Whitney and Allied Faith & Family for providing our tickets! 

Allied Faith & Family (AFF) is a dynamic PR and marketing service group that encourages and assists the entertainment community in promoting life-affirming messages that touch the heart and uplift the human spirit. Located in the heart of Hollywood and with 21 field offices around the country, AFF exist to build bridges between the faith and entertainment worlds and advance media that entertains, enlightens, inspires and endures.

dear friend on the iPhone

photo courtesy of springwise.com

The infamous letter Dear Mom on the iPhone went from zero to crazy overnight. I can admit that when I hit "share" on Facebook, I wasn't even thinking about all the great moms I know who occassionally glance to the screen every once in a while for a moment of relief. I wasn't worried about the sweet mommas who love social media because, for crying out loud, it's the most practical way for them to have a conversation with their friends. I just wasn't worried about them. I applaud them. I want to be them.

More than anything, I hit "share" because, in ministry, I encounter a handful of littles every week whose faces drop the second I even check the time on my iPhone. They've been hurt by mere ounces of technology. They really just wish Siri would hush.

But what I really loved about that letter? It's 100% transferrable.
It could just as easily have read:
Dear Dad on the iPhone
Dear Grandpa on the iPhone
Dear Brother on the iPhone
Dear Teacher on the iPhone
Dear Roommate
Dear Boss
Dear Coworker
Dear Daughter
Dear Sister
Dear Friend

I know that I, in any of those roles I fill, could stand to read it; and on some occassions, even need to say it.

What could it look like?
In the most relevant form for me (both to and from me), it might sound a little something like this:

 

Dear Friend on the iPhone,

I'd like to think that our time together is worth something, but that's not what I'm picking up from you.

I don't want to be clingy. I don't want to monopolize your attention, but out of the days or weeks or months we're apart, I'm only asking for an hour or two of your time.

I feel like if I sat across the table and sent you texts, you might be a little more into this. 

Your head is down, you're laughing at jokes over text messages.

Someone else is more deserving of your attention.

Someone else is funnier.

You would rather be somewhere else, right?

That's all I see.

That's all I hear.

Could you put it down? Put it away?

Everything you think you're missing will still be there when our hour is up.

But this hour is what we have.

 

My favorite little iPhone feature is the 'Do Not Disturb'

 

From the moment I turn it on, to the second I opt out of self-control and peek at the screen, all notifications, phone calls, emails, tweets, texts, game updates, ESPN feeds, etc are completely silenced. Zero distractions. (Since work and family emergencies are a part of reality, there's even an option to allow calls from favorites.)

 

I love a little technology.

I'm a Twitter nerd.

I like FunJump and Fruit Ninja as much as the next iUser.

So please hear me when I say, I am just as guilty.

 

Guilty, but trying to get over my iPhone.

Trying to get over myself.

 

My one little word for this year is low. I set out to lower my sense of self, and part of that has been lowering the iPhone and looking people in the eye.

 

That's where their story is. You don't want to miss it. You can't afford to.


**look back tomorrow for a family-fun, Houston giveaway!**



 



back in the saddle again.

And just like that, I think it might be better to watch Sleepless in Seattle than write.
Because no one's really missed this.
No one really needs to read anything I say.
No one will be sad if I just delete the whole thing.

But, dangit. I would miss it! I have missed it.
So just like all the tediously wonderful things (working out, getting up early, washing your hair. grin), the first time in a while is always the hardest.

In all fairness, though, I really have been writing. I really have been blogging. Just...not here.

________________________________________________________________________________

Sozo: To be made whole.

A while back, my sweet friend, Becky (whom you surely know by now) started writing for Sozo, an encouraging blog community for women. In November, Becky and I were chatting at her baby shower about how bad we've gotten about posting on our personal blogs. Grin. She mentioned that deadlines are what helped her stay faithful to posting for Sozo. I asked a few questions about it, and we moved on to other conversations.

By the time I got home that night, I had an email from Bre'anna, fearless and fabulous leader of the Sozo blog. She read an archived guest post I wrote for Becky and wanted to know if I was interested in joining the Sozo team. I immediately sent a text to Becky to see if she had anything to do with it (she's easily in my top 5 fans). Nope. All the Lord.

There are thirteen contributors and Sunday through Friday, we cover:

A Weekly Scripture Passage

Mommy Mondays

Tasty Tuesdays (weekly healthy recipe from our own resident nutritionist!)

Wedded Wednesdays

Thirsty Thursdays (devotional)

Female Fridays

It's such a privilege to write and walk alongside these great women! We're learning and sharing and encouraging and it is such a joy. One of my favorite things about writing for Sozo is that, from that very first email, Bre'anna made it clear that none of the daily topics were off limits for me. Not married? No kids? No big deal. I still have the opportunity to speak into those moments and how they are relevant to me and where I am. I pray there are others who can relate. 

My Sozo posts so far: 

Hey girl, what's your banner say?

On the Eve of Something Grand

Drink Deeply

Lies! All Lies!

Kept in a Safe Place

Go Ahead. Tell Me No.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Devotional Diva

I honestly could not even tell you when my Twittership (Twitter + friendship) with Renee started. All I know is, she was tweetin' things and bloggin' things and before I knew it, I was hooked. This girl is good. And this girl writes truth. She has been such an encouragement and inspiration. When I thought I didn't have two words worth saying about dating and relationships, she gave me an outlet to talk about my perspective and experience (or lack thereof) in the hardest post I've written. When she added monthy columnists to her blog, now webzine, I shamelessly asked to be included. Wink. 

Along with three other girls who cover devotionals, health & wellness, and relationships, I'm her events girl. My first post on President Obama's inauguration quickly created some heat, but I don't scare that easily. More current event/pop culture posts to come!

_________________________________________________________________________________

The Lord has been sweet to open doors for me to get my writing itch relieved in this season. I'm so grateful. But this is home.

This is where we started. 

And I've been so neglectful. 

This first one's out of the way and more are coming soon!

COMING SOON!

A family-fun Houston giveaway and a review of Shauna Niequist's upcoming book! Stay tuned.

it's still the new year: low

photo credit: marthastewart.com

I like to do laundry. Mmhmm...weird. Yes. That's been established. When times are busy, as they have been, I end up with mountains of clothes that eat my room. When I finally get around to washing, I blow through those piles as fast as I can. But when I have my way, I do it once a week. It's not just laundry. It's reliving the seven days behind and letting go so I'm ready for the seven days ahead. It's not just washing clothes, it's a cleansing of sorts. The water starts running. Bubbles form. I throw the clothes in, shut the door, Jesus and I talk during the spin cycle. Every little, insignificant thing I held onto for seven days...down the drain.

New Year's Eve and New Year's Day are some of my absolute favorite days. Don't read too much into that. I know there's nothing inherently spiritual about December 31 or January 1. My reasons for loving New Year's are much like my reasons for loving laundry. I love to process. I like sitting in pajamas, curled up with a puppy in my lap, thinking back on the good days, best days, hard days, and miserable days of the year behind. In the very next moment, I have no glimmer of an idea what is coming. It's cozy and adventurous. It's comfortable and risky.

It's safe; and yet, it's not safe at all.

Last year, the verse the Lord kept taking me to was Isaiah 61:3b

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the LORD

for the display of His splendor.

Believe me. When I say He took me to it, I mean He would not let me leave it. It was in my new favorite songs. It was the theme verse of our church kiddos' summer week of choir musical. It was in books I read. It was the loudest whisper I heard from Him. It was the tune that lulled me into rest for a whole year. 

Inspired by Katie's One Little Word post, this year I asked God for a word. Just one little word. 

He answered. The word is tiny. The word is packed. The word is...

low.

I want to lower my spending. 

Being a "grown up" has a reputation for being no fun. For anyone. I have a problem with that. I like to have fun. I don't like to be stressed. Lower spending, extravagant giving, and a little bit of margin will, in my opinion, make things a lot more fun. I might even stop hating "bills" day. 

I want to go to sleep when the sun gets low. 

I have nothing against being a grandma--no problem with it whatsoever. I want to live days well. I want to live days with a lot of energy and full attention. Plus, I really like sleep. So I'll go to bed early. Two birds. One little, low stone. 

I want to see a lower number on the scale.

When is this not part of the list? Honestly. But Memorial Park is around the corner. And the gym is literally right down the stairs from work. And I have no excuses. And I'm ready.

I want to lower my voice. 

I'm a quiet personal in general, and I haven't gotten any louder, audibly. I can feel, though, that my personality has gotten louder than I like. I've been pushing to be heard. I've been straining to be favored. I've been speaking my mind before I'm certain it's actually...well, my mind. Lower my voice, Lord, the heard and the unheard.

I want to lower my view of self.

There is no more uncomfortable moment than when someone brags about how humble you are. For one, that's an oxymoron to oblivion. No humble person wants to be bragged about. But it's most uncomfortable when you know it's just not true. Pride has so many dangerous forms: insecurity, demanding attention, jealousy, belittling. None of them are good. All of them are hurtful. Healing needs to come. 

"God sets Himself against the proud and haughty,

but gives grace [continually] to the lowly

(those who are humble enough to receive it)." 

James 4:6 (AMP) 

Please, Father. Give me grace.

"But with the humble (those who are lowly,

who have been pruned or chiseled by trial [...])

are skillful and godly wisdom and soundness."

Proverbs 11:2 (AMP)

Yes, Jesus. Bring wisdom and soundness.

"He gives His undeserved favor to the low,

the humble, and the afflicted."

Proverbs 3:34 (AMP)

You are generous. I am undeserving.

"For God sets Himself against the proud

(the insolent, the overbearing, the disdainful, the presumptuous, the boastful)--

[and He opposes, frustrates, and defeats them],

but gives grace (favor, blessing) to the humble.

Therefore humble yourselves [demote, lower yourselves in your own estimation]

under the mighty hand of God, 

that in due time He may exalt you."

1 Peter 5:5-6

I want to be made low. 

Happy New Year's to you and yours. Happier laundering. 

Any new resolutions, goals, or "one little words" to share? I'd love to hear them!