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For the love of genies. \u00a0This is the kind of thing that makes my eight-year old mad.<\/p>\n
So I asked her if she could<\/em> have three wishes come true, what would they be?<\/p>\n Well, of course I would wish that my doll would come alive. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Of course.<\/p>\n And of course I would wish for a swimming pool that you just won’t ever get me in my whole entire life. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Of course.<\/p>\n And I would wish for me to be ten. \u00a0I just really need to be ten. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Duh.<\/p>\n She asked me what I would wish for. \u00a0Almost immediately every material want rolled off my tongue; at the top of my list was a house for our family since we’ve moved into a wonderful but temporary home. \u00a0I told her that it might be fun to go back to age ten. \u00a0Ten’s a good age.<\/p>\n But mom, if YOU go back to ten, then you’d have to go back to homework like I do now and then you’d have to actually do WORK. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Because, of course, I just play all. day. long. \u00a0I suggested that maybe she should change her wish and become my age since it’s so easy. \u00a0With no work. \u00a0Ever.<\/p>\n No way. \u00a0I wouldn’t want to be THAT old. \u00a0I’d rather do homework. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n As the week went on, I found myself thinking more about the three wishes. \u00a0Putting my daughter to bed one night, I read and talked with her and was reminded of everything valuable beyond the material. \u00a0A house is so insignificant without loved ones in it, a pool has such little value if there aren’t friends and family members to enjoy it with you, and a new king size bed (also on my initial wish list) loses its comfort without a beloved to share it with. \u00a0\u00a0Later in the week I shared with my youngest my three new wishes for the year:<\/p>\n I wish to have more patience. \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n I just don’t have a lot of it, unfortunately. \u00a0I’ve learned from dear friends and family around me who are “quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger” how profoundly important it is to be patient. \u00a0 I was abruptly confronted with my lack of patience the other night when my husband and I began arguing over something incredibly insignificant. \u00a0We bantered and he tried\u00a0patiently\u00a0<\/em>to keep my emotions from escalating. \u00a0This, folks, is not always an easy task.<\/p>\n And he did not succeed. \u00a0When we arrived home later that evening, I was beyond angry. I had completely lost any sense of patience that should have been present, so I did what any impatient, angry wife does when she’s upset with her husband: \u00a0I stuffed my husband’s coat in a pizza box and threw it in the trash can.<\/p>\n Yes, folks. \u00a0You read that right. \u00a0I took my husband’s coat, crumpled it up like a piece of paper, stuffed it in the kid’s box of pizza (with the leftover three pieces of pepperoni), and pushed the whole thing down into the trash can. \u00a0That happened.<\/p>\n There is a reason why I love to talk about grace so much. \u00a0I, for one, am in abundant need of it. \u00a0Because I, for one, do things like stuff my husband’s coat in pizza boxes.<\/p>\n The next morning a wave of embarrassment rushed over me. \u00a0I sat in bed considering that perhaps (perhaps)\u00a0<\/em>I had crossed a ridiculous line. \u00a0Perhaps\u00a0(perhaps)\u00a0<\/em>a deep breath and a calm conversation could have had better results than my husband’s coat reeking like pepperoni. \u00a0So I snuck out into the garage, pulled his coat out of the box, and promptly stuffed it in the corner of the closet. \u00a0I was still a bit angry and that somehow seemed a little more legitimate.<\/p>\n Thankfully, my husband had a laugh about it once I confessed my ridiculous act, explaining why his coat smelled like stale pizza. \u00a0I’m not sure there is another with more patience than he. \u00a0I thank the Lord for him everyday, and I hope, I pray, I wish for the kind of patience I see in him and other godly men and women in my life.<\/p>\n It’s likely that you don’t have to join the “I’ve thrown my husband’s coat in a pizza box because I was so angry” club, but you may be wishing there was more patience in your reservoir. \u00a0Perhaps you’re longing for more patience in waiting through a difficult circumstance, maybe you’re wishing for more patience with your young kids who don’t ever give you a moment alone, or you may be hoping that this year you can find the patience needed to deal with a disrespectful student in your classroom. \u00a0You might even be hoping for more patience in dealing with a spouse who does things like crumple up your coat and give it a good pepperoni rub.<\/p>\n “I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility<\/strong> and gentleness<\/strong>, with patience<\/strong>, bearing with one another in love<\/strong>, \u00a0eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” Ephesians 4<\/em><\/p>\n We’re called to have it, so He will give it in abundance when we seek it. \u00a0But we have to want it; we have to desire the change that it produces, and we need to take action to walk in such a manner. \u00a0Sometimes we just need to take a deep breath and count:<\/p>\n One…two…three…<\/p>\n I wish for more patience this year.<\/p>\n I wish to have more\u00a0<\/strong>gratitude<\/b><\/p>\n I have so much to be thankful for, but so often my daily attitude doesn’t reflect this reality. \u00a0I get bogged down in the mundane, looking downward at the rote steps my feet take each and every day. \u00a0I pray for an awakening in my spirit to look up and look around at all I’ve been given, and I pray this knowing how closely my kids are watching my attitude toward each new day.<\/p>\n I’m learning the importance of gratitude for the ordinary. \u00a0I’ve been deeply grateful through trials and filled with gratitude beyond measure during seasons of abundance. \u00a0But it’s the everyday living that often \u00a0requires a daily change of perspective. \u00a0I’m learning that\u00a0there is beauty in the mundane.<\/p>\n Our dinner table is often filled with bickering, ungrateful kiddos. \u00a0What? \u00a0You know not what I speak?<\/p>\n Well then, I salute you (though I question if you have actual children).<\/p>\n But I’ve wondered lately if their attitudes don’t reflect my own spirit of ingratitude. \u00a0They often hear me complain about the details of my day – running around too much, not having enough hours to accomplish all on my plate, and all the worrying about what tomorrow will bring.<\/p>\n Within minutes of starting dinner the other night, my youngest called everyone to attention:<\/p>\n Guys, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask for a while. \u00a0So, mom and dad, are we related? \u00a0Like are we blood related? \u00a0I couldn’t remember when I was lying in bed thinking about it. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Lily, dear one, meet your father, and I, sweet child, am your mother. \u00a0After eight years of confusion, we’re thrilled that you have finally figured it out.<\/p>\n It’s just that I wasn’t quite sure. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n And now she’s sure. \u00a0After much wondering, she has figured out that we are blood related. \u00a0Part of the reality of our closeness is that my daughter will learn from me, and I deeply desire to pass on to my kids (I have three who are blood related, just in case the older two were wondering as well) the spirit of gratitude that I saw in my own parents. \u00a0Gratitude can be as easy to emulate as complaining can be.<\/p>\n I will never forget sitting in the car with my dad one evening in my early years of marriage. \u00a0We were waiting on some other family members, and while sitting there, \u00a0he asked me how things were going. \u00a0I looked very closely at my dad who at the time was constrained in a rather large brace that reached from his neck to his waist. \u00a0The brace was to alleviate the pain from a tumor growing in his spine. \u00a0Without the brace, the pain was excruciating. \u00a0With the cumbersome contraption, the pain was bearable. \u00a0I told him I was fine but that I felt bad for him.<\/p>\n Don’t feel bad for me! \u00a0I get to hang out with my family and preach! \u00a0Don’t feel bad for me. \u00a0<\/em>And he said it with a smile on his face.<\/p>\n He found gratitude in the routine visits from family and in the ability to keep working, even while suffering. \u00a0I hope and pray to pass on this same spirit to my kids (those blood relatives of mine) in part by deliberately mentioning the one, two, or three things I’m thankful for in the day.<\/p>\n I wish for a grateful heart this year.<\/p>\n I wish for an eternal\u00a0perspective\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n What a blessing that we’ve been given in living the life God has paved out for us. \u00a0It’s a joy to work, to be with family and friends, to rest, and to take in the beauty that surrounds us. \u00a0“For me to live is Christ…” \u00a0<\/em>I have always embraced the first part of this verse.<\/p>\n But it’s the second part I wrestle with: “…and to die is gain.” \u00a0<\/em>I struggle with anxiety, and my fear of disease and dying is often at the heart of that worry. \u00a0I fear it for myself, and I fear losing those I love.<\/p>\n But death is inevitable, and as a friend has reminded me through her own pain and suffering, that inevitability \u00a0is devastating but the hope we have is beautiful. \u00a0This precious friend lost her three-week old baby boy. \u00a0Several months after saying good-bye to sweet Joey, knowing that he would wake in the arms of his Savior, she said this:<\/p>\n After six months, I’m tempted to say that [Joey] should be here. \u00a0But my perspective has changed. \u00a0We should be there. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n An eternal perspective. \u00a0While living the life that God has given us, by His grace and His mercy, we live it looking heavenward – for to me to live is Christ!<\/em>. \u00a0We taste good food with an eternal perspective \u00a0knowing that it’s a mere preview of the feast that is to come one day, we stop and take in a beautiful sunset knowing that there will be a day when we will experience colors we never knew existed, and we grieve with hope believing that we will one day be reunited with all of those who have gone before us, with all of those our hearts long to see again.<\/p>\n And to die is gain! \u00a0<\/em>The last moments with my mom will forever be engrained in my mind. \u00a0While she took in shallow breaths, the caretaker encouraged my sisters and I to tell her that it was OK to go be with Jesus. \u00a0We spoke soft words in her ear and told her it was OK to go; we told her we loved her and we couldn’t wait to see her again. \u00a0She hadn’t responded to anything in several hours, but in those moments her closed eyes deliberately and slowly clenched.<\/p>\n One.<\/p>\n Two.<\/p>\n Three.<\/p>\n We love you too, mom.<\/p>\n And we know that she has now gained everything because of Christ; there is nothing she will ever wish for again.<\/p>\n But I’m not there yet, and until that day when all things are made knew, I’m sure I will struggle with patience (here’s to hoping no one else finds articles of clothing in a pizza box); I’ll probably complain more than I should and will more than likely lose sight of what this life is ultimately about.<\/p>\n But there is grace. \u00a0And I will hold fast to it in this new year.<\/p>\n One…<\/p>\n Two…<\/p>\n Three…wishes.<\/p>\n And an abundance of grace.<\/p>\n We don’t need a genie, my girl. \u00a0We never did and we never will.<\/p>\n We have all we need in Jesus.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My youngest came down the stairs pretty angry the other morning. \u00a0She plopped herself in front of the fireplace, folded … <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/katiepolski.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/PizzaBoxSml.jpg?resize=179%2C171&ssl=1\")
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