Dragging the hose across the driveway and up the hill to the garden, I leaned into the grassy incline and headed for the six rows of green beans. Not a single sprout was showing, but I turned on the hose and soaked the dirt until puddles began to form. You see, I was picturing jars of dilly beans on summer picnic tables and neat rows of canned vegetables to share with friends and family lining my basement shelves with green goodness.
And last November, I started working on a new teaching series for a women’s retreat in September of this year. An hour here, a morning there, and today it’s almost ready for me to send student notes and discussion questions off to the retreat planners and assemble my teaching notes.
Big things like gardens and brand-new teaching topics happen slowly. They come about through seemingly inconsequential acts. Aiming the hose at empty rows of dirt, staring at a computer screen until the right words come, and trusting God with the results, I am learning to persevere in small acts of faith.
There’s no time for me to wonder, “Am I doing this right?” I’m pretty sure that some of my bean seeds are planted too close together (or too far apart), and I always need to replant a few (sometimes a LOT!) because of marauding chipmunks. When I print out my teaching notes, I’ll be scribbling corrections all over them—maybe even crossing out, rewriting, and printing again later, but if I waited until I had the gumption for a perfect garden or the wisdom for a perfect retreat series…? Well, let’s just say, we’d be eating a lot of store-bought frozen vegetables, and I would still be staring at a blank computer screen.
What small act of faith can you do today to hold space for some bigger thing in your future with the Lord?
Small acts of faith won’t save you, but they remind you that God is not standing still— and neither are you. Your faithfulness, whatever it looks like, is holding space for grace.
Twenty minutes of exercising may lubricate creaky joints and make for better movement all day. Twenty minutes of Bible reading may lubricate relational gears in your family as you submit to whatever God shows you in the mirror of His Word.
I’d love to hear about the small act of faith you’re tackling! Be sure to share yours in the comments!
Marinated Wisdom Takes Time
In a recent post, I used the word marinate to describe Tim Keller’s years of quiet, unseen faithfulness that preceded his first book in 2008. Preparing sermons, answering questions, counseling New York’s seekers, and praying about all of it created a base of wisdom that permeated Keller’s words and work and fueled the respect he inspired.
Marinated wisdom takes time, and this is a welcome and refreshing perspective for me at age 60. When I know in advance that a family barbecue is in the works, I thaw the chicken, prepare the marinade, and leave it soaking in the fridge for at least overnight. Marinating anything takes time, and there’s plenty going on in that marinating process that comes with the gift of time!
In the post, I promised readers that this newsletter would include the tried and true marinade recipe that always carries us through a summer of barbecued teriyaki chicken. It’s simple but effective, and it’s easy to keep the ingredients on hand.
Teriyaki Marinade for Chicken and Steak
Combine and mix well:
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 cup soy sauce
3 tablespoons brown sugar
3 mashed garlic cloves or 1 heaping tablespoon of minced garlic
1 tablespoon grated fresh gingerroot or 1 teaspoon ginger
Marinate the meat for 4 to 12 hours in the refrigerator, then cook on the grill or under the broiler.
If you try it, be sure to let me know or tag me in a picture on your social media!
Family Blessings
Our Colorado kids have moved to New Hampshire! All 15 Morins assembled to welcome them and to unload the UHaul, and we’re so grateful that they are in the same time zone and now a visit requires only a three-hour drive!
For ages, my good husband has been saying, “We need to go visit your sister! Nobody is getting any younger!” And he was right. But my sister and her family live in Alaska, which is on the other side of the universe when you live in Maine!
This summer, we’re going! Because they were airforce people, they’ve lived all over the place, so we’ve been in the same zip code maybe as many as six times over the past thirty years. We’re counting the days!
Watch for pictures in the July Newsletter!
Until then…
Holding You in the Light,
P.S. I always enjoy hearing from you and love it when this letter becomes a conversation!
And as always, please share the letter with anyone who might be interested in reading along!
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My small act of faith is to sit with a piece of paper and pen in a quiet spot, at least several mornings a week. First I strive to open myself as best I can to God's presence, then write whatever impressions from Him stir in my heart. This practice is in response to Ruth Haley Barton's book, Invitation to Solitude and Silence. Currently these moments last 10-20 minutes. Sometimes I begin to write almost immediately, sometimes I find myself waiting a bit, and a few times I've written nothing at all. I'm already sensing a difference throughout the day, as my thoughts seem to turn more readily to my Father when concerns, hurts, wonder, gratitude, etc. come to mind.
Loved your photos from Alaska, and I am thrilled for you that your article on older women in the church was picked up, especially since I am one myself! But then again, I usually define "older women" as those ten years ahead of me. Not sure I can get away with that now that I'm 70 though! I'd love to read the print article itself - can you share a link or did I miss it?