1000 Gifts: 441-540

**The 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, and 27th Installments of 1000 Gifts**

441	.	11/5/87 - Praise the Lord.
442	.	A business trip through Spokane
443	.	My Grandpa-Veteran and his service to our country
444	.	Snow in November
445	.	Long drives with my mom
446	.	Cancelled meetings that free up the morning
447	.	Sticky notes
448	.	Sleeping In on Saturday Mornings
449	.	A text from my best friend at the perfect moment
450	.	Those moments when motivation sticks around
451	.	Vanilla extract
452	.	Writing
453	.	Staying up late reading together
454	.	Puzzles
455	.	Peanut Butter
456	.	The end of travel season. FOREVER.
457	.	Pad Thai for lunch
458	.	A job that allows for vacation time
459	.	My in-laws
460	.	Brunch with friends
461	.	Clear skies through the Gorge
462	.	Potlucks with my work-family
463	.	Pine scented candles
464	.	Christmas lights
465	.	Cinnamon scented pine-cones. Yes.
466	.	Cuties.
467	.	A house full of our youth group kids.
468	.	A passing grade on his final
469	.	A morning without a headache
470	.	Another year of life
471	.	A quiet night at home
472	.	Community group shenanigans
473	.	20 people, 7 pizzas, 1 hot apartment
474	.	His Grace
475	.	The Nutcracker
476	.	Portland City Grill
477	.	Downtown Portland at Christmastime
478	.	Goat cheese and prosciutto
479	.	Getting caught up
480	.	A cleansing cry
481	.	Joseph's Lullaby
482	.	A snow-free drive home
483	.	The way Mom and Dad's house shines like a beacon all decked in Christmas lights
484	.	Advent Traditions
485	.	Christmas with my family
486	.	Loud gift exchanges
487	.	Les Mis with the cousins
488	.	The fact that the distance between his family and mine is not all that long
489	.	Twins
490	.	Celebrating Grandma Kate
491	.	A quiet New Years Eve
492	.	A new year, fresh start
493	.	CCEF Devotionals
494	.	Burnt sausage, and a humbling, comical, carcinogen-laden reminder that breakfast is always better when I leave the meat prep to my husband.
495	.	Progress
496	.	Exciting news
497	.	Amazon Prime
498	.	Finalized blue-prints
499	.	A single rose, just because
500	.	Revere Pewter
501	.	A mid-day phone call from my sister-in-law
502	.	Hide and Seek with the cutest niece
503	.	A long weekend at the beach with my man
504	.	Groupon
505	.	Airline miles = cheaper flights
506	.	Hand and Foot Victories
507	.	A quick trip home
508	.	An old friend's wedding
509	.	Shoes on sale
510	.	Mom's cooking
511	.	The satisfaction of finishing a long, challenging book
512	.	Supportive coworkers
513	.	A day off
514	.	Dinner with an old friend
515	.	Simplifying
516	.	Pizza Friday
517	.	A quiet evening spent reading
518	.	The first run in nearly 6 months.  Oof.
519	.	Dreaming together
520	.	Sovereign Grace music.
521	.	Four years together
522	.	Taylor Swift.  There, I said it.
523	.	Vaulted ceilings
524	.	San Francisco at night
525	.	A successful recruitment event
526	.	Cancelled plans and an unexpected night at home
527	.	Email to phone
528	.	When he's caught up enough to take a night off.
529	.	Decluttering
530	.	Spring Cleaning
531	.	Hooded jackets
532	.	Coffee early in the morning
533	.	A sunny day in February
534	.	Reminiscing with my sister
535	.	A surprise, candlelit dinner at home
536	.	A spontaneous run for ice cream.  At 10pm
537	.	Hawaii Housing
538	.	Newborn babies  (!!!!!!)
539	.	Pinterest, ugh.
540	.	Bittersweet endings

Yes, that was just 100 all at one time. This way, you're not getting bombarded every couple weeks.  You're welcome.

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On Packing

Right now, there are three boxes stacked in the corner of our living room: packed, taped, and labelled.  Another rests half-full in the kitchen, packing materials and contents spilling over the sides. Three more lay hungry in the bedroom, waiting to be filled. And, here I sit.  Smack-dab in the middle of it all.  Stuck here partially due to physical exhaustion, partially due to being downright overwhelmed, but mostly because I've misplaced the packing tape. Again.

Such a weird migration this is.  From wall to box.  Dresser to bin.  Cabinet to crate.  These three years past, placed in boxes.  My heart doesn't quite know how to feel.

I know.  I see you there.  You, ticking off the months to come on your fingers... Yes, we still have much time before we leave.  Nearly 4 months, in fact.  And yet, here I sit with box upon box.  Strange as it may be, I suppose I find myself prematurely packing because I am a planner.  I like having all my loose ends tied up, everything just so.  Perhaps I pack because it gives me a sense of control, a fake, fleeting, selfish, and sinful pseudo-sense of control. Maybe, I am packing now to lighten my load for later, when life will no doubt be even more insane.

But, perhaps that which looms largest in my heart urging me to pack is the fact that I'm not quite sure how I'm going to say goodbye. How I will leave this place we two first called home as one.  How we will leave this church family who have loved us with open arms and open doors.  How we will leave these friends who have become more like family...  It's as though this gradual stripping of walls and emptying of drawers will ease the pain of that last day.  Much like a bandage, (and contrary to the common analogy) when pulled ever so slowly, one might almost forget the pain of its removal.  In much the same way, perhaps this gradual packing is readying my heart for the ripping.

I know I've said this before, and there is no doubt that further words and tears will be spilled over this place; but I sit here in the midst of transition with a heart torn.  This heart quickens wildly at the thought of the adventures that lay ahead.  Every vase wrapped is a step closer to that new horizon. While simultaneously, there is an ache that throbs at the thought of closing this chapter.  My heart is all here and all there and not at all emotional.  (ha!)

There is much to do before the door closes, however. Much to do, much to say (or not), and many to love.  I am thankful for this readying period, this time of preparation; but no amount of time is going to make this any easier.

Now... to find that packing tape....

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Prepare Him Room

My heart has been cluttered.  I don’t know about you, but when my desk or kitchen counter is cluttered, I feel like I cannot be productive until it has been stripped clean and organized. And that has been my heart lately.

This holiday season, I have really been struggling to ‘get in the Christmas spirit.’  Yes, our home is decorated, the presents wrapped, and the Christmas classics are played on repeat.  But, this year has just been a little off for me.  So many times, I've felt like I am just going through the motions; and I have had little motivation to even decorate Christmas cookies and an unusual apathy for all things in general.  There have been days when I have actually wondered aloud, “Where is my JOY?”

I haven’t been able to put my finger on it.  This empty feeling, this foreign sense of apathy, this lack of joy.

Then, it hit me.  Hard.  Like a ginormous semi-truck to my heart.

We were standing in church on Sunday, singing an all-too-familiar Christmas carol when the truck hit.

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come; Let Earth receive her King!

Let ev’ry heart prepare Him room….”

How many times have I sung those lyrics mindlessly?  (I might have even breathed a sigh of disappointment that the music team had chosen this carol, when the song first began. Couldn't we have sung one of my favorites like, “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” or something?)

And then I sang, “…let every heart prepare Him room…”  Wham. I stopped singing, my voice caught in my throat. Let every heart prepare Him room... ... ... Isn't this what Advent is for: making room, preparing hearts?  What have I been doing these last few weeks?

I’d prepared my home.  I’d prepared my fridge.  I’d prepared my gifts. Heck, I’d even prepared my nativity.  But, my heart?  No room in the inn.

I have allowed the urgent to crowd out the Important. Rather, I have forgotten what is truly important in the first place. I have cluttered my proverbial workspace with trivial things in such a way that my “productivity” has come to a complete halt.  And, in turn, I have developed my own definition of “productivity.”  I have been so busy cleaning out the barn that I have overlooked the child in its manger.  I've forgotten The Joy.  And I'm tired of it.

I want to be stripped bare.  I don’t want my heart to have to “prepare Him room;” I just want my heart to be all Jesus in the first place.  He rules the world with truth and grace.  The truth is, I've been struggling; the Grace is, He's helping me to strip bare my workspace, prepare Him room, and He's settling in.

I don't want to wrap this up with a shiny bow and sparkles, however, because it's not over.  This is, and will be, a daily, messy battle.  A daily purging and cleaning.  A daily choice for more of Him and less of me.  A daily letting go and holding on.   A daily shoving aside of those things that scream for stake of my heart in order to preserve Him room.  My hope in sharing this is that this proves, by His grace, the glories of His righteousness and the wonders of His love.

I hope you all have a wonderful, Christ-filled Christmas!

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The Grace of Brokenness

From my reading of late:

"...Yet, it is a kindness when He strips us of self-reliance, because it is there, in our emptiness and brokenness, that we experience the privilege of His sustaining grace. It is only when we arrive at that dreaded place of weakness that we discover the surpassing power of Christ.  It is only when we are finally freed from those oh-so-constricting straight jackets of self-righteousness that we are able to experience the true comfort and warmth of the robes of His righteousness."

       -Elyse Fitzpatrick, "Give Them Grace"


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