Lover of God, wife, mother, British missionary in Peru... click here to learn more about Anna and this blog and how it can serve you.

The last few weeks God has been making me go back to my roots - my spiritual roots.  To be honest it is a vulnerable, difficult, uncomfortable process. Sins and habits I thought I was done with, that I had moved on from, suddenly popping up again.  I realise that I need to reaffirm my faith - to fight again - to get the enemy off my promised land.  And at the moment I am still in that fight, which at times can be very discouraging.  I am really having to remember that the sun shines beyond the clouds! And one of those things has been writing.  I never expected the marriage month stuff to affect me in the way it did - being vulnerable made me vulnerable and addressed areas in me where I still have a long way to go to trust God.  It sounds depressing, but actually, it is difficult but it is good! I know that this is just a deepening of my faith and I am looking forward to those sunny days again - because they are coming! If I am in a desert now the only way my roots can go to find water is down deeper into Him! And as I was talking to God about my insecurites this last week, he reminded me of a story from my childhood... 
It was my Dad's birthday.  I was six or seven at the time and I accompanied my Mum to a local shopping centre to choose a card.  I was convinced that he would love a card with a kitten popping his head out of a teapot, tail poking out of the spout. (The actual one had the kitty looking forward with the lid of the teapot in his head if I remember rightly!)  To me the card was cute and funny and he would love it. 

My mother tried to encourage me to choose something else.  You like the card, but he might like something more manly, with cars on it or something, she urged. 
I insisted on the card and my Mum gave in.

I remember giving my Dad the card.  He laughed out loud – he thought it was hilarious and I was pleased with my choice.

My suspicions were further confirmed when my Dad framed the black and white photo card and hung it in the downstairs bathroom. Now, every time I did my business I looked up at that cat (next to the plaque which read ‘The battle is not yours, but God’s.’) and felt pleased that I knew better than my Mum and had insisted on the card.

As I became older, and less self-absorbed, I realized that he probably wasn’t into cats and teapots so much.  Yet, why had he framed that card? 

I asked him.  

And the answer I got was simple: 

Because you gave it to me.

And as I sit here and write and try to impress God with something (I don’t know what!) – He laughs and tells me that it doesn’t matter what, but that it is the heart behind it.  My choice to love Him, my offerings which are so often childish and self-absorbed.  And he tells me that He frames them.  Not because they in themselves were necessarily stunning, but because I am His daughter and He just loves it when I try to love Him. 

‘I have loved you with an everlasting love;

    I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

Jeremiah 31:3

My peeling facemask

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