I thank Christ Jesus our Lord,

who has strengthened me,

because He considered me faithful,

putting me into service.

I Timothy 1:12


 Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful.

I Corinthians 4:2


I sat on the edge of an alpine lake, course sand clinging sticky between bare toes. Golden granite sand, worn away from huge island boulders flung thousands of years ago from a mountain eruption miles away.

I’d been here in winter too, when the lake freezes deep and snow reaches high into the branches of Ponderosa pines and the highway closes and the only way in is by snowshoe or skis.

It seems unchanging, this refuge place. The same islands where John Mark yodeled Tarzan calls as he and his cousins leaped from granite cliffs, plunging into cold, clear, snow fed waters. Freezing my mother-heart with fears and what-if’s and unheeded pleadings to be careful!

How many times have I sunburned my skin as I lay on these rocks? Screeched when my kids snuck from behind to spray my dozing self with icy water? Collected pinecones to fill baskets for Christmas decorating?

I came here young, with babies and toddlers and return now, with wrinkles rimming my eyes and grandkids splashing the same water.

And always the lake stays the same.

Or does it?

This sand at my feet is not the same sand I stood on twenty years ago. New sand refreshes the shores every year. Boulders freeze, brittle pieces slough into the lake, waves lap relentlessly, over and over and over, again and again.

And God sees all that change.

Microscopic, miniscule, unmeasureable change.

One tiny grain at a time. These mild lake waves never stop, not even for a day. Nary a holiday, nor a day off, not so much as a pause. Never.

Lap, lap, lap.

I think that’s what it means to be faithful.

It means to show up every day. Every single day. To keep doing what I am called to do even when I can’t see a difference, can’t measure progress. When everything looks exactly the same.

Being faithful means I believe God. That I have discovered His bigness, that I have surrendered my story into His. It means setting myself aside because I believe He’s a better planner for me than I am. He knows what He is hoping to do with me, with my life, with my everydays.

Before I leave this listening place I’ll scoop some of this God-made sand to bring home with me. To run my fingers through when my faithfulness falters.

To remind me to keep lapping.

To be faithful.

From my heart,



GlimpsesIntentional Parents