Then I saw this: JESUS TURNED AROUND. Those three words changed me.

Hope. I’m not forgotten. He’s very aware of my situation. No matter what drags me behind, He will turn around to me.

Compulsion. Reach out, Tonda. Respond to His prompt. He’ll turn in response to you.

Awareness. Jesus, did you turn around for me today? How many times? Have I even said thanks?

She didn’t speak His name, which in itself would have released abundant power! She needed to touch Him!

Many times I’m weak and weary. And I need to feel Him. I know He is there. I know I can call His name. But I need the assurance of His touch. I’m sure glad He put that part of the story in His word. He turned around.

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You had a quiet respect for the God your family worshipped, but who had been seemingly still for over 400 years. You had an expectation that He promised a Deliverer. You were so inclined to Him that when He stirred within you it scared you to death, but you trusted His heart.

It must have been excruciatingly difficult to receive news that you were to become pregnant, but not with your husband’s baby. Not even with your fiance’s child. In a culture that stones women to death for pre-marital or extra-marital relations, you took the news like a champ. Luke described you as “confused” and “disturbed” when Gabriel first appeared. That was likely an understatement!

You defended yourself. “How can this happen? I may be young, but I’m not naive. I’m a virgin. Yessir, I am! 100%! Without a doubt.” 

But after a little clarification from Gabriel, you said, “I am the LORD’s servant. Let everything you say be true.” All you needed was more detail. You sound like my kind of girl.

I can’t imagine you were meek. Webster’s Dictionary defines that as “spiritless, tame.” I’m sorry, but I think that relegates you to something akin to an incubator. And as a mother of four strong-willed sons, I know it takes a thick skin and healthy resilience to get that assignment. You had a house full of boys, too. 

No. I like to think you were pragmatic. You could be sweet, but you also knew to stand up for yourself.

Were you petite? Those girls always seem to get the part of Mary in the church play. But I imagine you were a bigger girl, somewhat rugged. You did journey quite a distance, likely by foot, while advanced in your pregnancy. 

Maybe your hair wasn’t luxurious and flowing. Maybe your skin was acne-prone or you had a gap between your front teeth. What if you never liked your nose? I wonder…

I wonder because people call me sweet. And that’s okay because I know the Spirit of the Most High overshadows me. If he didn’t, I’d be the meanest girl on the planet. I’d be angry and bitter. I’d be resentful and judgmental. The Taming of the Shrew would be the name of my biography!

Simultaneously, I’d be depressed and sullen. I’d be withdrawn and rude. And whiny? I’d be the queen! 
So let me just reiterate, I see you.

You should know, when I’ve been asked to be God’s girl in some brutal scenarios I’ve been as mindful of His presence as you were—because you did it first. What an amazing example you set for us all. Not showing us how to hear the call of God and yield in cowering helplessness, but to rise to the occasion. Full of knowing. Full of faith that whatever work He begins isn’t about us, but His glory and the hope of all mankind. 

Yes, that’s who I see when I see you, Mary. You were God’s girl and I want to be God’s girl. Every single time. 
Thank you for being open and tender to something that made no sense. That had no precedent in generations before you. That came from a God who seemed distant and removed but was very much working out His plan. I cannot fathom how strong you were, but I know if you and I could chat, you’d tell me to never give up on trusting His way of doing things. 

You showed me that the months of waiting for that plan to be delivered may be long. I may have to go to places that are foreign and uncomfortable. I may journey with someone who seems like a stranger. And after all the pain and suffering, the plan might be delivered in the least likely way, in the least likely place.

But, if I am committed to our Father, if I seek His strength through the stress, many lives can be changed. Wow! What a beautiful plan. My, what a God!

May 2021 find us aware that nothing we have is necessary or eternal apart from a relationship with our Creator, who became flesh and inhabits our flesh, giving us provision for anything. Anything.

Never forget that 2020 was the year He gave us to come alive to this revelation: It’s all about Him and He invites us to trust His heart in all things. He gives us joy for it all. And He’s crazy in love with us.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Be kind. Love well.
~ Tonda

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I questioned myself in the mirror a few days ago. The reply was a shoulder shrug and a “meh.” That girl needed an attitude adjustment.

I’d been staring at a partially-lit Christmas tree for over two weeks. I had Keith bring it up from the basement so I could take my time and work on fluffing and stringing lights—where many of the pre-lit ones had died. Alas, I had no desire to touch the tree, but sadly plugged it in every evening and let it mock me with its smashed branches and swath of darkness.

Would Christmas 2020 irrevocably tangle my tinsel?

I needed some magic pixie dust. Or perhaps a round of eggnog with “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” playing in the background?
 
Nope. I turned to my tried and true method of getting over myself. I prayed. I asked God to give me a proper perspective and return my vertical vision. Horizontal vision gets me in trouble every time. It seems I cannot look away once I catch a glimpse of the mayhem that surrounds me on every hand. Then I fixate on the things outside my control that threaten my loved ones and me. 

Before I know it I have a snowball of fear and despair in my hand.

Watch out if you get in my path when I’m in such a state.

It takes supernatural force to turn my gaze upward to be reminded who He is and where my standing is, despite the chaos. His look of love melts my snowball and relaxes my “armed and dangerous” pose, flooding me with peace and purpose.
I also read passages like this one from Psalms. A reminder that He gets me and believes in His plan for me:

The Lord looks down from heaven and sees the whole human race.
From his throne he observes all who live on the earth.
He made their hearts, so he understands everything they do. 
(Psalm 33:13-15)

Turns out He sent a bit of pixie dust anyway.

I took advantage of that tree and hastily stuck Fred (our elf on the shelf) in its branches. He made his 2020 debut with a letter to the grandkids asking why no one had decorated anything. I was in my room when the two of them arrived home from school. Henry typically beelines to retrieve my iPad in there, but he stopped short, and it took me a second to remember Fred was in the tree just outside our bedroom door.

Oh, I wish I could describe the excitement in Henry’s voice. He had intercepted Fred on the tree before he reached me. I listened as he reached high to retrieve Fred’s letter. Then I waited, expectantly, as he ran toward the stairwell (where Scarlett typically takes much longer to emerge) and gushed, “Scarlett! Our elf on the shelf is back! Fred is here and he left us a letter!” 

There was my Christmas spirit. The joy of my grandchild in the make-believe…the innocence of wonder and awe that Fred had returned, just as he promised.

Something flickered inside and I remembered…

I have joy in what I believe. There is wonder and awe in the celebration of His coming to Bethlehem. There is hope that He will return for you and me.  

2020 has been on His calendar since the beginning of time itself. We’ve been in good hands all along. May we carry this sacred knowing within us throughout the season. May we be aware that others will need more Christmas cheer than ever before this year. 

LORD, let us look around at the opportunities You provide to be kind and love well, but keep our vision vertical. You know us; we need You.

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

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This picture is the view from my chair (Keith calls it the holy of holies). Every morning I get my cup of coffee and snuggle here spending time with the LORD. And watching this scene unveiled as the sun nudges the night away stirs deep gratitude for God’s faithfulness. In each changing season of creation and in each changing season of my life, He is constant.

I imagine God likes it when my prayers are like my grandkids’:

Thank You for giggles and cuddles. For snoring that reminds me I’ve had another day with this hard-working man laying beside me. For twinkly stars and bare branches against a bright blue sky. For holidays with my people even if everyone isn’t present. For tears that remind me You’ve blessed me with folks to miss.

I think we’ll try this around our Thanksgiving table today—name five things we’re thankful for that can’t be earned or bought.

Let me know if you do the same with your loved ones today. I’d love to hear the responses. I imagine they’ll be as diverse as the faces and personalities gathered there.

And while we’re at it, let’s thank God for ourselves. He created us for good things and all of His creation is stunning…season after season. Happy Thanksgiving blessings to you and yours…

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

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You’ll hear me say time and again that my daddy provided an amazing example of the Father’s love. It was pure and genuine. It never wavered and kept me within boundaries that were strict but fair. He punished me, but the anguish he displayed in those times compelled me to do better so I didn’t force his hand. I can’t recall a day he didn’t hug me to his chest and say, “This is daddy’s heart.”

Because of that love, my only fear growing up was a highly unhealthy fear of the dark. I am a scaredy-cat with a wild imagination and, admittedly, should never have watched any horror movie ever. But daddy never made me feel silly about being afraid of the dark. Not even when I was older. Rather, he soothed me. And because I knew he loved me, I believed him when he said nothing would happen to me. His love quieted my fear. 

I’ve learned there’s a lot more to fear in this life than darkness. Things happen in broad daylight that will ruin lives and wreak havoc on sensibilities. Zephaniah 3:17 reminds me of this:

Because my Father takes delight in me, He quiets ALL my fears with His love.

And nothing separates us from God’s amazing love! My, what a God!

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

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Perhaps my least favorite thing about fall is the creepy part of Halloween, so I’m glad it’s passed. I’ve always been a fan of costumes and trick or treat. But leave me out of the macabre and twisted imaginations that create slasher movies or decorations that dabble in the occult or unseen. They ruin so many simple pleasures.

For instance, last night I asked a new friend if she’d ever done a corn maze. I have never attempted one. She said she had, but something about cornfields creeps her out. Guess why? She has seen the alien movie Signs. I rest my case.

But my friend said something else about corn mazes that resonated with me. We were discussing a particular one at a pumpkin patch near us. She said she had done it last weekend but it wasn’t a ton of fun. So many had been through, all you had to do was follow their trail. The path was defined because the hay was trampled and worn, clearly showing the way.

The point is supposed to be you find your way, then lose it, then repeat until, finally, you arrive at the end! But some would consider it a stroke of luck to find one where many have gone before. They need the clues of a well-worn path or they’ll get stuck somewhere forever. Or maybe they’ll just keep doubling back, making the same mistake over and over. Even the most arduous maze becomes simple when the path is clear.

That might defeat the purpose of a corn maze challenge, but it made me wonder about others coming behind me in this maze of life. How many times do my footprints lead them in the wrong direction versus how often their way is simplified because I’m leaving a clear path?

The objective of a corn maze is to find yourself free on the other end. The objective in the maze of life is to find yourself free in your identity as a child of our loving Father. If my journey can ease the way for someone behind me, how great it can sweeten the pain!

That’s what’s on my mind today…

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

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Because as much as I hate to leave my house, a bigger pet peeve is someone who complains about things yet never does anything to make a difference. Every vote matters. Wars and competitions have been lost because one person chose not to “show up” for the team. They persuaded themselves that their absence wouldn’t make a difference and chose not to participate.

As the queen of procrastination, I know it takes as much of a decision not to do something as it does to do it. That leaves little room for excuses after the fact. Unless you exist under a rock or in a deep cave, you know that November 3rd is the day we decide who leads the greatest nation in the world. The incredible place we call home. And it’s our civic duty to contribute in this way.

So I pray you’ve got November 3rd circled in red on your calendar. I pray you will intentionally and purposefully make it to the polls on, if not before, that day.

America is depending on you and me to use our voice through the vote. 

That’s what’s on my mind.

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

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One such tune he frequently sang was by The Mills Brothers, “You Always Hurt the One You Love.” It seemed an odd choice coming from the man who woke me with Oh What A Beautiful Morning from Oklahoma. Who entertained me on long car rides with the chorus of “I Love A Parade” from Music Man. Who encouraged me with “It Took A Miracle” by Eddie Arnold.
I was most confounded by the first two lines which were:

You always hurt the one you love
The one you shouldn’t hurt at all

It simply made no sense to this young girl with an unjaded, romantic view of love. What is love if not kind? Hurting others wasn’t kind. Why would you “always hurt” someone you loved?

Well, life and circumstance have a way of turning over the ground in our souls allowing wisdom to spring up. I can confirm that hurting someone you love isn’t kind. But it is what we humans do. 

Strangely, I believe it happens because love provides a safe space. One where, in our selfishness, we might assume we’re always loved in spite of our unseemly behavior. 

Hurt and fear lash out swiftly and cruelly and most often have no filter. This is sad but true. And I am guilty as charged. I so often hurt the ones I hold dearest to my heart because I expect they’ll understand. And forgive.

Beginning with God. 

So today I’ll start at the top and strive to remember love isn’t rude or bossy. I’ll extend grace when those who profess their love act unbecomingly toward me. I’ll turn the other cheek and wait for them to calm down or come around so we can have an open and constructive conversation. I’ll be the first to apologize and the last to react to their anger.
LORD, help! It’s the only way I can…

That’s what’s on my mind today.

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

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We were dressed up (a.k.a. out-of-quarantine attire) and looking forward to a special treat. When we arrived, our oldest son and his fiance were already seated and being served their drinks. We ordered a few appetizers, then Keith handed the server our gift card. (This restaurant was really quite the splurge. We don’t typically go all out this big for birthdays, but it was cool because we had the hefty gift card.)

There was one little problem. The server very graciously perused the card, then handing it to Keith smiled and said, “Sir, this gift card is for Jimmy Kelly’s restaurant here in Nashville. I used to work there and you really had me going for a minute.” 

We were stunned at first, then all had a good laugh—until the bill came! Thankfully we could AFFORD it, but we wouldn’t typically have paid that price for a family meal. But how in the world did we mix up the two establishments? 

Initially, I assumed the blame. After all, I was the one who said, “We should go to Jeff Ruby’s because we have that nice gift card!” 

Then I thought it over a little. I had given the card to Keith on Thursday when I made the reservation so he’d have it in his wallet. He’d had as much opportunity to look it over as I had. Plus, much has transpired since we received it last December. 2020 has unfolded in ridiculously crazy ways. The fact of the matter was we both got it wrong.

Which led me to think about Eve and Adam and the whole blame game (follow me here). It’s easy to assume a lot about that story, but the truth is the blame shouldn’t lie with Eve or Adam. The serpent said, “Here’s your chance to be just like God.” Eve didn’t give it any serious thought and jumped right in and sampled the fruit. Adam assumed everything was cool, so he followed suit. Lots of negligent parties in this tragedy. But it can all be traced back to our enemy.

Here’s what I know:
1. His temptations most often come when we’re minding our own business, not out looking for trouble. And he’ll let just enough time pass to bait us when distracted.
2. He doesn’t force us to “bite” when he lies. He just leads us to it. But he’s pretty sure the distractions will make us suckers.
3. We shouldn’t judge one another for making stupid choices. It happens to all of us sometime… heck, many times in our lives.

Probably a roundabout way to go from discussing the mistaken identity of a gift card to the first sin, but maybe you can follow my trail. It all seemed innocent enough until the bill came. As I’ve heard countless times throughout the years, “Sin takes us farther than we want to go, keeps us longer than we want to stay, and costs us more than we want to pay.” 

How often I’ve wondered at the horror that flooded Eve when “her eyes were opened” and she realized what she’d done. It could not be taken back. It was too late. Yes, our God restores and redeems, but what if we checked ourselves before it reached the need for that? I pray that as I mature there are fewer and fewer “uh-ohs” with Satan and more and more “uh, NO’s.” 

That’s what’s on my mind today.

Be Kind. Love Well. 
– Tonda 

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“They have eyes to see, but do not see, and ears to hear, but do not hear…what is this proverb you have in the land of Israel, ‘The days pass slowly, and every vision fails?…The Sovereign Lord says: I hereby end this proverb; they will not recite it any longer…The days are at hand when every vision will be fulfilled…not be delayed any longer…in your days, I will speak the word and accomplish it…’”

Read 2 Peter 3 (paraphrase mine):

Beloved friends, this letter is to stir us up…never forget…in the last days mockers will multiply, chasing after their evil desires.They will say, “So what about this promise of His coming? Everything is still the same as it was since from the beginning of time until now.”…a single day counts like a thousand years to the Lord Yahweh, and a thousand years counts as one day…contrary to man’s perspective, the Lord is not late with his promise to return, as some measure lateness…The day of the Lord will come and take everyone by surprise—as unexpected as a home invasion…don’t we see how vital it is to live a holy life? We must be consumed with godliness…There are coming heavens new in quality, and an earth new in quality, where righteousness will be fully at home. So, my beloved friends, with all that we have to look forward to…be eager to be found living pure lives when we come into His presence, without blemish and filled with peace…divinely loved ones…be careful that you…do not lose your firm grip on the truth…continue to grow and increase in God’s grace and intimacy with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. May He receive all the glory both now and until the day eternity begins. Amen! 

Last week one of my sons lost a friend in a horrible shooting.

At 23 years old, a time when most of us are living in the moment, this beautiful boy’s eternity began. Today, at 58 years old, my eternity could begin, yet I am focused on appointments, what’s for supper, and packing for a trip.

But the fact remains that few of us view the world through we’re-running-out-of-time glasses.

When I made the connection between the two passages from Ezekiel and 2 Peter, these words stood out to me: Don’t we see how vital it is to live a holy life? We must be consumed with Godliness.

We don’t have to look far to recognize this could be the day when “the eternity of humanity begins.” There are a LOT of respected people warning us.

Eternity is difficult to comprehend. Whether or not my brain can grasp it doesn’t negate the fact that each moment, somewhere in the peripheral of my vision, should be my appointment with Him – highlighted in yellow and circled with a red marker. 

Maybe He takes just me or maybe He comes to reclaim His entire creation. Either way, I should prepare for the wedding supper of the Lamb; packing all I can for that final trip, because I don’t want to arrive empty-handed. Where I will be fully at home with righteousness because He has made me whole. 

How can I boldly profess that? Because I am divinely loved!

His precious promises are true. My what a plan! My what a God!

Be Kind. Love Well.

~ Tonda

P.S. – The election is quickly approaching. Time to exercise our right to vote. If you haven’t already, won’t you register to make your voice heard? Then, on November 3 (if not before), get to the polls and vote. You can find your state’s registration deadlines here. #BeHeardNovemberThird 

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