It's the last thing I do before going to bed and the first thing I check on when my feet hit the floor. My projects. My Christmas.
I've been treasure hunting. Collecting things that have a past. I am going to make them new and write the next chapter in their stories for my family.
I began to sand through wood trying to erase scars and scratches when I suddenly picture the hands and feet of Jesus. The scar on his side and I remember what they mean.
I stop sanding. The nicks and notches in the old wood have become beautiful.
I can't explain how I feel making things inspired by God in this season of my life because I have never felt this before. But over and over God takes me back to this place of remembrance. He sets me on the hills where memorial stones are planted. He reminds me that my story was written by Him and he wants me to leave behind a part of His story in my history, and so...
I sand and stain and arrange and glaze and wait and check on...
And on Christmas I will give away a few, "forever remember" moments of a life written by God with a heart of great praise from a greatly loved daughter.
I wish I could show you what I'm doing... but it would spoil the surprise.
Pssss..."I'll show you later."
