What are you thankful for?

I'm thankful for a Savior who stoops to lift up sinners, the holy rescuing the polluted. I'm thankful for second chances and second lives.
I'm thankful for the freedom to meet in safety with other believers, for being able to sing out loud each week without arrest. I'm thankful to hear the word preached in a faithful and original way each week, to meet with people who know and love Christ.
I'm grateful for a family whose members, generally, support each other. I'm thankful for a town that treasures its churches and hasn't yet banned the presence of Christ or Christians from its streets.
I'm thankful for the myriad little luxuries we are given: from running, hot water to portable phones; from microwave cooking to free libraries full of books; from antibiotics to recliner chairs.
I'm thankful that my husband can read Dilbert and the bridge column to balance out depressing news on the front page.
I'm thankful that a recent car accident was without injury and that God had mercy on a mother's shaking heart.
What are you thankful for? To share with others those things you are thankful for this year, CLICK HERE.

Empty cameras

This morning as I drove the kids to school, fog swirled around the car. I remember fog. In California, fog was a constant visitor in November. Here, we are lucky to have more than one or two days of fog.

In California, I usually came across fog when I drove up narrow, mountain roads behind a slow logging truck. You can't pass logging trucks because if you try, you are likely to meet a car coming down the mountain when you're halfway past the truck.

One time the fog was so thick, we accidently drove into a shopping center parking lot, thinking we were on a main highway.

Anyway, because fog is so rare here, I knew I had to go home, grab my camera and get some great shots of the trees and the dim, white sunrise, through the fog.

I walked along the Mog and took about 20 photos when I suddenly had a thought: Could I have left the camera's SD card at home? I dimly remembered taking it out of my camera and inserting it into my laptop.

That would mean that all the great fog photos I'd just taken were really not taken. I would be able to remember the neat images in my brain, but I'd have no permanent record. Lately, my brain forgets a lot more quickly than I wish it would.

As I gazed on a particularly picturesque scene of trees and lawn and fog and weird autumn light, the thought of an empty camera brought to mind the thought of soulless people, or rather, spiritless people.

People without the spirit of God in their lives observe all the blessings and bounty God reaches out to them. They see everything He lovingly sets before them, but they can't process it all. His goodness fades away before they can understand it and savor it.

At the Women in the Word retreat this month, the speaker mentioned how important it was to remember what God does for us. It's important for us and it's important for our children.

What good is it to have an SD card in my pocket if I don't use it in the camera? We may have the Holy Spirit of God in our lives, complete with gift after gift He infuses us with, but if we never tap into His power and life, we are likely to forget his benefits. We are almost like empty cameras.

I'm grateful for that little lesson at Women in the Word. It's important to remember that it's important to remember.

Turns out my SD card was in my camera and my photos came out just fine. Not sure about my other memory, but my camera memory is doing fine.