Be stunned and satisfied that we know God and that He knows us. Future Grace, John Piper

How would this transform my life if I allowed it to? I should be stunned that a sovereign God cares about me and provided a sacrifice for me to be in relationship with Him. But how often does that become commonplace?

I should be satisfied that God knows me because He is THE thing that my heart longs for to be complete. He is faithful, purposeful, always there, just, and the only way to salvation.

I remember a friend telling me that she prayed for me to be flexible when I went on a mission trip in 2007. She said that was what had come to her mind most often when she was praying for me. This mission trip was one of the most difficult trips I’ve ever been on. Harry and I had been married less than a year and were still trying to sort out our boundaries with other people and work and learning to be married and not single. (Another post for another day. And, of course, we’re STILL trying to figure all of that out! ) And I remember thinking, how dare she pray for me to be flexible when what I was needing was to be more assertive. And it definitely was a season of learning appropriate assertiveness and growing in confidence and setting healthy boundaries in ministry and with friends and I’m still learning those things and probably always will.

But now, in an unstable season of learning to be flexible on a level I’ve never known, I think often about her comment and wonder now if it was a more appropriate prayer than I realized at the time.  And I’m thankful for a friend who knows me well enough to know that I do need that prayer and who was bold enough to tell me that she prayed that for me.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about and working through boundaries the past few years. And I still think they’re necessary and good, but now I’m wrestling with the practical application of sacrifice within boundaries. I want to spend some time thinking about what one of our pastors, Jamie Mosley, said recently, “As love is cultivated, it increases the willingness to sacrifice.”

When I got that pedicure the other day, it reminded me of our trek through a Hindu temple in South Asia back in August. We had to remove our shoes because that is the respectful thing to do and they won’t allow you to walk inside without doing that. So, we had to walk all around the area shoe-less. It was wet–hopefully from the rain that day. But at certain points along the way, that water was ankle-deep and we were pressed against people. I remember seeing a reddish color to the water at certain points and feeling on the verge of a panic attack while being pressed against the wall by people desperate to see a god. But, more about that another time.

When I walked outside of the nail salon alone, carrying my tennis shoes and wearing paper-thin flip-flops…when I felt the wet parking lot ground from the day’s rain and realized that I was basically walking barefoot, I momentarily wondered if I should put my shoes back on. Then, I remembered that I had already walked through dirtier water and survived. So, I shrugged it off and kept on walking.

After messing up yet another set of polished nails because I started moving around too soon, I can remember hearing my mom say, “You just have to be still for a few minutes after you paint your nails. Can you sit still just a few minutes?” When I tried to be still (you know, after my nails were already ruined), she laughed at me and tried to explain that it doesn’t really matter if I’m still after I’ve messed them up. The time to be still is while they’re drying. I think about this conversation often when I’m painting my fingernails–usually clear so that you can’t see as much when I mess them up.

This week, I had a pedicure. AND a manicure. Harry’s parents gave me some money for Christmas to use to pamper myself. So, I did. And my toes feel really pretty.

My finger nails, on the other hand, did not fare so well–even though I sat under the little light thing for a few minutes and had my keys out before my nails were started so that I didn’t have to dig around in my purse for them.

Alas, within 30 minutes, they were ruined. Some things never change, I guess.