Fill Your Jug with Something Meangingful – Kearneyhub

Sitting in my chair, I close my eyes and listen. Our tiny house is filled with three rambunctious children. Rubit, our pet bunny, thumps the floor. There’s the sound of pastels scratching across paper. God whispers, “I’m taking care of you.”

These are the sounds of this soulful mom’s life as I rebound from a car accident. Rays of light pierce the bay windows to my chair and warm my face as I learn to live life — sometimes minute by minute, sometimes one prayer at a time.

Broken foot healing, body learning to be still, there is a lesson in the healing process. My restless heart isn’t fond of it, but I’m learning patience.

I’m also learning something about God. He is a good father. I’ve heard his tender whispers in the dead of night and in the split second when my Suburban slid off an icy road and smacked a pole. I heard him whisper, “I’ll keep you safe.”

My broken foot and concussion are teaching me more about slowing down and drinking in the moment in a way I never have before. Like Christmas dinner, I’m anxious to be the first in line to sample baked sweet potatoes, a bowl of clam chowder, and chunks of warm homemade bread. I want to taste every platter and sample every flavor. I want to try it all instead of focusing on just one dish. The way I live my life is often like that, eager to be in the mix, to try something new, but never slowing down to savor the moment.

My photographer friend, Diana, dared to ask what no one else would since the accident: “It might not be my place, but don’t you think this is God’s way of slowing you down?”

That got my meattention. Minutes passed before I texted, “I honestly don’t know.”

That was a couple of weeks ago. Now I’ve figured out the answer by writing down my best moments — every blessing.

 

 

 

 

 

Life takes us from one savory moment to the next. We watch our children grow and notice the silver speckling in our spouse’s hair. Our dreams are taking shape, but rarely do we have the chance to rest at the Father’s feet, or talk with him.

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But what about all our memories? What about the moments when God clearly puts His hands in our lives? I won’t allow my memories to fade away.

With 2015 in the rearview mirror, my family and I are creating a memories jar from an old gallon whiskey jug. In 12 months I want to see that jug filled with colorful slips of paper, crumpled but inscribed with a moment when God blessed us or taught us in some way how to dig our roots deep and love even deeper. I want my crew to fill that jug with blessings, moments of gratitude and how they experienced God throughout the year. I want to watch the jug’s contents expand month after month, and because I’m sitting still in the chair as I recuperate, I have a pretty good view from here.

Next Christmas,we’ll gather around our sea green table, empty the jug and remember our gifts and blessings to see how our lives slowed down to just one moment we wrote about.

heather.riggleman@kearneyhub.com
@heatherrig

Chasing Perfect | Posted: Saturday, January 2, 2016 KearneyHub

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