Coffee Talk

Don’t you just love this time of year? I do. I love the lights and the bright colors and the holiday music playing over loudspeakers and the smell of pine and cinnamon. I love sneaking around, keeping wonderful secrets and trying to please the people I care about with the perfect gifts.

But there is one thing I don’t like as much, and that is having to make up my mind. I’ve never been very good at that.

It never fails. I’ll be standing in Wal-Mart, trying to decide whether to get my niece the pink lava lamp or the purple one, and my head nearly explodes. Honestly, if I were a ten-year-old girl, I would like either color. But I have to decide on one. Pink? Purple? Pink? Purple?

And have you ever looked at Hot Wheels? There are like, a zillion different varieties. Race cars. Spy cars. Police cars. Fire trucks. How in the world am I supposed to know which ones my nephew would prefer? Which ones does he have? What is his favorite color?

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

And it’s no use calling and asking, because then I get the tables turned on me. “Renae, what do you want for Christmas?”

More questions, to which I don’t know the answers. Honestly, I like everything. I like things that smell nice. I like cute little pot-holders and kitchen gadgets. I like music and movies and books and things to wear and things to play with. I like everything.

Just please don’t force me to make up my mind. I don’t like that.

Wouldn’t it be great if there were a Perfect Gift store? We could just march in, submit the names and ages of our loved ones, along with our budget needs, and the all-knowing store clerk could run the information through some kind of scanner. Then, voila! The perfect gift would appear, all shiny and gift-wrapped with a big, fat bow. No more decisions. No more splitting headaches, from the stress of it all.

Then again, I suppose that would detract from the meaning of the gift. After all, it’s the thought that counts, right? And if we don’t put any thought into a gift, I suppose it doesn’t really count for much.

The perfect gift, I suppose, is simply a gift that reflects the love of the giver. It doesn’t need to be fancy or expensive, though it should come with some sacrifice. After all, if there is no sacrifice involved, what’s the point? Where is the value in such a gift?

God knows that. He loves us more than anything, and He has given us the perfect gift. He knows most of us don’t need another potholder or a scented soap-on-a-rope. What we need is to feel loved. To feel wanted. To feel cherished.

That’s why He gave us the greatest gift of all time. He wanted to have a relationship with each and every one of us so that He could show us how important we are to Him. But that wasn’t possible without a great sacrifice. He gave the most expensive gift of all time – His Son – so that we could know how much He wants us, how He cherishes us. He wanted us to know how very much He loves us.

So He paid the ultimate price. He sent us His Son, born in a stable in Bethlehem. He sent His Son to live the life of a carpenter, to travel dusty roads on foot, to teach and heal and preach and reveal that very love to us. He sent His Son to take the punishment for our sins, because He knew we could never afford to pay that price without Him.

He gave us the perfect gift – His love. He holds it out to us on Christmas day and every day. All we have to do is take it.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life,” John 3:16.

Yesterday, my coffee maker died.

It just quit working. No warning. No sputtering or strange noises.

It just died.

My first reaction was one of those deer-caught-in-the-headlights panic moments. No coffee? How will I ever make it through the day with no coffee?

Then, after a few deep breaths, I remembered that I could do what the pioneer women did. They boiled their coffee.

Just call me Dr. Renae, Coffee Woman.

So, I placed a few scoops of the wonderful, black powder into a filter, wrapped it up and stapled it like a teabag. Then, I dropped it into a pot of boiling water, and voila! A few minutes later, I had delicious, life-enhancing coffee. I think it was even faster than my coffee pot.

Okay, I admit the pioneer women probably didn’t have paper filters or staplers, but I’m still pretty proud of my ingenuity.

Then, as I was sipping on that first, glorious cup of the morning, I realized . . . I get to pick out a brand new coffee pot!

A fleeting moment of guilt passed through my mind. After all, my dear coffee pot had just died. It wasn’t even in its grave yet – it was still sitting on my kitchen counter. It had seen me through years of good times and bad times. It had entertained guests and helped me through long nights. And it had gently, faithfully given me something to look forward to, each and every morning.

What kind of woman am I? How can I be smiling about a replacement pot so soon?

But I knew I had to let go. After all, have you seen some of those new-fangled, high-fallutin’ coffee makers they have on the market these days? My old one was just a plain old, low-end coffee maker. Now, they have the kinds that actually grind the beans for you. The kinds that store the coffee within the actual maker, and only release a cup at a time, when you hold your mug under the little spout.

And they have colors! My old one was just plain white plastic. With years of coffee stains, so it wasn’t actually white any more.

It didn’t take me long to move past my sorrow. After all, what’s done is done. Nothing short of a miracle will bring that pot back to life. It’s time to move on.

Does that make me a shallow person?

Perhaps.

Then again, I have been guilty of hanging on to things for too long. I’ve been known to carry a grudge, and to nurse my wounds, and to wear my feelings on my sleeve for extended periods of time. Those habits have not done much to enrich my life. Instead, they have kept me from pressing forward. They have weighed me down like a ball and chain. And to be perfectly honest, I’m tired of clinging to the past.

So, starting today, I’m going to let go. I’m going to move on. I will remember the good, but I won’t let sadness or anger or guilt or anything else keep me from experiencing the great things that wait for me, somewhere out there in the future.

Wonderful things. Like a cute little $800 cappuccino/espresso/coffee maker/grinder. In red.

Or one of those nifty one-cup-at-a-time doo-dads. In a sleek stainless steel.

Or maybe I’ll just get another basic white coffee pot for $20 at Wal-Mart. The possibilities are endless.

Philippians 3: 13 – 14 “ . . . Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

I got two tickets this week.

Well, that’s not exactly true. I almost got two tickets this week. The first one was when my daughter and I were on our way to Blockbuster Video. I didn’t think I was speeding. I honestly had no idea why I was being pulled over.

The officer approached my window, and I handed him my driver’s license. “What did I do wrong?” I asked.

“There is no inspection sticker on your car,” the man said.

“Oh, officer, I am so sorry! My husband usually takes care of that for me,” I told him. Hey, Mark wasn’t anywhere around. Why not blame him?

The man laughed. “Oh, so it’s your husband’s fault, is it?”

“Why, yes, sir. I’m so sorry it hasn’t been done.”

“May I see your proof of insurance, please?” he asked.

Oh, where is that insurance? Dear God, please let it be current! I found the paper, and it was current. Whew!

Then, he took my license and insurance information, went back to his car, and stayed for what seemed an eternity, while the most ridiculous thoughts raged through my mind.

What if I match the description of one of America’s Most Wanted?

What if my car matches the description of some other car that was involved in some . . . terrible crime?

What if I forgot to turn the oven off?

Finally, the man approached my window. “Mrs. Brumbaugh, how are we going to fix this problem?” he asked.

I didn’t miss a beat. “You’re going to give me a warning, and I’m going to get my car inspected first thing tomorrow!”

The officer laughed. I liked this guy. I think.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I’m going to do,” he said. “But next time, you’ll get a ticket.”

Yes. I definitely liked this guy.

The next day, I drove right down and got my car inspected. After all, I want to be a good citizen, and good citizens always try very hard not to get tickets.

So you can imagine my dismay when, two days later, I got a real ticket. But this time, it wasn’t issued by a police officer. It was issued by the sanitation department.

It was trash day, and when I went to fetch my empty trash can from the side of the road, there it was. A little yellow-green ticket, flapping in the wind.

Apparently, my trash can was too full. And they were charging me an extra $4.50.

Well, technically, it wasn’t a ticket. More of a notice.

But it sure felt like a ticket.

I mean, what am I supposed to do with my extra garbage? Put it down my garbage disposal? No, I’d better not. Then I’d probably get a ticket from the water department.

So, from now on, I will try to contain my trash within my trash can, so that the lid will close completely. If you drive by my house and see my dear husband jumping up and down in our trash can, just wave. You’ll know we’re simply trying to be good citizens.

I’m sure glad God doesn’t have a limit on what we can bring to Him. Can you imagine if He said, “Whoa, there, your pile of heartache and worry is getting a little too high. I’ll take care of only this much, and you’ll have to handle the rest yourself.”

Boy, would I be in a heap o’ trouble.

But God is gracious, and His love and mercy are limitless. Any time I have a problem or a need, I can bring it to Him. He doesn’t even keep track! He just says, “Oh, I see you’re having a little trouble there. Let me take that for you.”

He doesn’t make me jump up and down on my troubles to make them appear smaller. He takes them just as they are. He doesn’t give me a ticket, or charge extra.

And He even replaces all my garbage with His peace.

Don’t we have a great God?

1 Peter 5:7 “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

Hello friends! No new post for today. But check out my Black Friday experience here.

Blessings to you!

–r

It is my year to do Thanksgiving. My sister-in-law, Debbie, and I switch off every year, and it is my turn.

(Note to self: Be thankful for doing Thanksgiving at my house.)

The thing is, I was really hoping to have a new kitchen by Thanksgiving. I have one of those old, Brady-Bunch style double ovens. Which would be great, if both of the ovens worked. But the door on the bottom one doesn’t actually close, so you can’t really cook anything in there. So now, the bottom oven is used for storage.

I have to be careful about what I store in there, though, since the door doesn’t close. If I store anything heavy and breakable, well . . . you figure it out. But, at least I have an oven, right? I mean, think of all the pioneer women who had to cook over an open fire. (Note to self: Be thankful for oven. And for being born in the twentieth century, instead of the nineteenth.)

Not only that, but my house still has its original 1977 yellow gold countertop and sink. (Note to self: Be thankful that the retro look is in right now.) But new kitchen or no new kitchen, the fact remains. Next Thursday, I’m going to have a house full of people.

So, as I prepare myself and my refrigerator for more food than we will ever possibly consume, I have decided to make a list of things I am thankful for. And lucky for you, I’m going to share it.

I am thankful for:

1. My husband. He offered to buy a pre-cooked turkey this year, so I wouldn’t have to bother with it.

2. Pre-cooked turkeys.

3. Instant mashed potatoes. Is it cheating if I stand over a bowl with a potato masher and pretend to work the lumps out of them?

4. Candles. If I light candles, they make the house smell like I’ve been baking, and my guests will never know I bought the apple pie at Wal-Mart. Also, I can dim the lights, and my guests will be impressed with the mood lighting. They’ll never know I’m trying to hide the stains in my carpet.

5. Paper plates. If I put a pretty tablecloth and centerpiece on my table, maybe no one will notice the Chinette. Then, I won’t have to do dishes.

Alright, already. I can hear you saying, “Doesn’t this woman do anything? She doesn’t want to cook a turkey or bake or do dishes. What does she do all day long?” The truth is, I will cook for Thanksgiving. I will bake pies and make desserts and casseroles and cute little veggie trays. But I have to leave a little time so that I can sit here and type these words to you.

Thus, the pre-cooked turkey and the Chinette.

But in all seriousness, I have more to be thankful for than I could ever hope to fit into this space. I am thankful beyond measure for my wonderful family, who loves me. I am thankful that, at present, we all are healthy and happy and strong. I am thankful for my children, who fill my heart with joy, bubbling over.

I am thankful for my husband, who makes me feel loved and special. I am thankful for my parents, who, even though I am forty years old, still think I am young. I am thankful for my wonderful, curmudgeonly older brother who still treats me like I am a child. Some things never change.

I am thankful for a roof over my head, a car to drive, food on the table, and money to pay the bills. I am thankful that I live in a land of possibility and promise, a land where, with a little integrity and a lot of hard work, any of us can reach our full potential.

I am thankful for the men and women who will be spending the holidays in a far-away land, separated from those they love the most, so that I can enjoy the holidays in peace. I am thankful for their families, who sacrifice so that the rest of us don’t have to.

Most of all, I am thankful for a God who loves me, even when I’m not lovable. I’m thankful that He wants to be my friend, and spend time with me. His is a love that will never end. It just keeps going and going.

Yep, I have much to be thankful for. My cup overflows.

1 Chronicles 16:34 “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.”

This has been a difficult week for our family. It has been a time of great weeping and wailing and mourning. This week, dear readers, we lost our beloved pet fish, Goldie.

Goldie has been with our family ever since . . . last month. He was a good fish, full of personality. He swam with such grace and vigor, and his long, flowing fins turned his movements into an art form. He was an inspiration to us all. He will be sorely missed, and his absence in our lives will leave a hole that will not easily be filled. (Actually, it can be filled for $2.50 at the local pet shop, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Services were held in our bathroom. My pastor/husband, the Right Reverend Dr. Mark F. Brumbaugh, o-fish-iated. Loving words were spoken, followed by a hymn: “I’ll swim away, oh, glory, I’ll swim away (down the toilet).” And then, we said goodbye to Goldie, and watched him swirl away to that beautiful home in the sea. (Well, sewer. But let’s just overlook that little detail for the sake of posterity, shall we?)

Goldie had a short life, but it was a good one. He had a nice, big fish bowl to swim in. He had his meals brought to him, and he had lots of little fishy things in his bowl to play with and swim around. And he brought joy to us, his family. He didn’t waste his life longing for the ocean, longing for some dream that would never develop. Nope. He happily swam around his bowl, waving his fins for us, coming up to greet us when we brought him food. He seemed to enjoy his life. I guess you could say he lived well. He had learned the secret of being content.

Our lives are pretty short, when you think about it. Whether we live 20 years or 80, our existence is really no more than a blink, in the grand scheme of things. Isn’t it a shame that we waste so much of it, wishing for things we can never have? Instead of enjoying the houses we live in, we want bigger houses. Instead of appreciating our jobs, we long for better jobs. Before we are married, we want to find that special person. After we are married, we want children. We wish for financial freedom, retirement . . . and before we know it, we have wished our lives away, wanting what isn’t ours. We would be so much better off, don’t you think, if we could learn from Goldie, and be happy with what life has handed us. Right here, right now.

From now on, I intend to look at my life through Goldie’s eyes. I will try to remember that life is short, and not a moment should be wasted. I will do my best to appreciate what I have, instead of squandering my time longing for what I don’t have. And someday, when I go on to glory, I want people to say, “She lived well.”

Philippians 4:12 “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation . . .”

Congratulations, United States! You have a new president. And while he may or may not be the person you voted for, he does represent some positive change in our country. He is a good man with a lovely family, and his election, in many ways, represents the ideals here in the United States – ideals which have long been awaiting reality.

Barack Obama is a living, breathing example of the term, “The Melting Pot”. A white mother. A father of mixed race, including African and Arabic. Obama’s very existence is a picture of who we are in this country. His election to the highest office in our land will certainly add a more balanced view to the portraits hanging in the hallowed halls of the White House.

As a white American, I admit that I will never understand what it is like, not to be white. I admit that things have probably been easier for me, that doors have perhaps been opened more freely for me, simply because of the color of my skin. I have many dear friends of many different races, and I believe I have judged people by their character, and not their color.

But I understand that not everyone does that. And because of the folks who have judged others based on color alone, many of our citizens have suffered. Some have been denied jobs. Some have been wrongly accused.

I hope, that by putting a man of mixed race in the White House, a man who is married to a black woman, a man who has two beautiful biracial daughters . . . I hope that will bring healing to our land. I hope Barack Obama’s position will bring unity, rather than division. God knows, we need some unity.

I pledge to you today, dear readers, that I will pray for Barack Obama. I will not slander him as a person, but rather, I will choose to give him the benefit of the doubt. I will choose to believe that he will do his very best to lead our nation, and that his decisions, though they may not be my preferences, will be made from a pure heart.

I will pray that the Almighty God will shower His wisdom and guidance on this man. I will pray that God will surround him with wise, righteous advisors, people who love our country and who will help him to serve this country to the very best of his ability.

Mr. Obama, you ran your election on a platform of hope and positive change. Hope for all Americans, for a brighter tomorrow. Change which will tear down the walls that have so divided our country. I will pray God Himself will help you deliver on those promises. May God bless you, and may God bless America.

Romans 13:1 “Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God.”

What would you say if you asked a presidential candidate, “Sir, what makes you think you’re the best man for this job?”

And he said, “Well, I’m not sure that I am the best man. But I’ll give it my best shot.”

Now, that’s something you rarely hear, during a presidential campaign. There are a lot of promises made, and many lofty ideals thrown around. Frankly, there is a lot of bragging, by each candidate.

“If you elect me, the world will be a better place . . .”

“Elect me, and you will sleep better at night . . .”

“Vote for me, and your children will be safer . . .”

“Put me in the White House, and I’ll solve all your money problems, and all your health insurance problems, and all your education problems . . .”

And by making such promises, each candidate is actually insulting his or her opponent. “Don’t vote for so-and-so, or you’ll be sorry. So-and-so will never run this country as well as I will.”

I know that is part of the job, to brag, and to put the opposition down. To show self confidence, and to convince voters to place their confidence in you. But honestly, I don’t know if I could make such promises, under any circumstances. It kind of embarrasses me, just to think about it. There is no doubt in my mind that, if I promised to make everyone’s lives better, I would fall flat on my face. I guess that’s one of the many reasons I’ll never run for president.

But once upon a time, presidential campaigns in this country were very different than they are today. Once, in a long ago world, presidential candidates were expected to be modest. Humble. Gentlemen.

Prior to 1860, if a candidate campaigned for himself, it was considered the height of egotistical rudeness. The candidate was expected to remain quiet, and to let others do his campaigning for him. I kind of like that idea.

In the election of 1860, a man named Stephen Douglas was the Democratic candidate for president. Though small in stature, he was considered to be a political giant. He had served in the Senate, and had been around all the big wigs for years. Some might have considered him to be unbeatable.

But he ran against a quiet, humble man by the name of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln had gained some serious attention during a series of seven debates against Douglas, a couple of years prior to the election. I guess Douglas got a little nervous, and felt he needed to secure some votes. He wasn’t supposed to campaign for himself – that would have been improper. So instead, he scheduled a trip to see his mother. And he went the long way around the country, on his way to her home. He scheduled many stops along the way, and made speeches and visited political rallies at every stop. But of course, when asked about his actions, he said he was merely on a trip to visit his mother.

Well, you can just imagine what the Republicans thought about his little trip. Before long, they printed a flyer. A missing persons notice, actually. It read: “A Boy Lost! Left Washington, D.C. some time in July to go home to his mother. He has not yet reached his mother, who is very anxious about him. He has been seen in Philadelphia, New York City, Hartford, and at a clambake in Rhode Island. …He is about five feet nothing in height and about the same in diameter the other way. He has a red face, short legs, and a large belly. Answers to the name of Little Giant, talks a great deal, very loud, always about himself…”

I don’t have to tell you the rest of the story. Votes were cast on Election Day, and The Pony Express delivered election results around the country. The humble Abe Lincoln had won the election. His modest, gentle nature served him well, and he went on to be one of the greatest presidents our country has ever known.

I don’t know when we began to value Hollywood star power over simple, honest-to-goodness character. But I do know that, no matter which party we are rooting for, we want our candidate to look good on camera. We want him or her to wear a sparkly smile and offer shiny promises. There’s really no way anybody can make it all the way to the White House if they aren’t willing to brag a little.

But I think I like the old way of doing things. I like the idea of finding a simple, humble, wise man or woman, and letting him or her continue about his or her simple, wise way of doing things, while the rest of us convince each other which guy or gal would serve us best. I like the idea of letting the candidate’s actions speak louder than his promises.

Honest. Meek. Wise. Humble. That’s the kind of person I want to be my president. I honestly don’t know if that person even exists in our world anymore. And if he does, I’m not sure any of us would even notice him.

Proverbs 27:2 “Let another praise you, and not your own mouth; someone else, and not your own lips.”

Did you know that in some parts of the world, people are thrown in jail, or even executed, for speaking against their leaders? Yes, of course you knew that. Silly question. And I am so glad that I live in a country where freedom of speech is encouraged.

Sometimes.

But honestly, I think we cross the line, way too often.

I get tired of people complaining about, and speaking against our president. We think that any time is open season on whoever holds that office, and we bad mouth and we slander and we call him a fool, and we say he is the worst president ever.

If a Republican holds the office, many Democrats do everything possible to make him look foolish.

If a Democrat holds the office, many Republicans do the same.

Then, our words are broadcast all over the world.

And we have the audacity to say that our president has made us look bad, in the world’s eyes. Now, I don’t often get up on a political soapbox. But come on, people. Our president doesn’t make us look bad. We do a pretty good job of that, all by ourselves.

The reason many countries take it so seriously when citizens speak against their leaders is because it shows a lack of patriotism, a lack of pride in one’s country. It undermines what that particular leader is trying to do, and it makes the entire country look bad.

I don’t think that we should be a bunch of mindless, fear-driven robots spouting the praises of our leaders. But I do think that, out of love for our country, out of patriotism, and out of a respect for the highest office in our land, we should be required to exercise some self control. We ought not be allowed to undermine our president’s credibility in the eyes of the world. In my humble opinion, that is downright treason.

With a little self-control coupled with a little pride in our nation’s heritage, we can learn to express our opinions in respectful ways. We can show support for our president, and pray for him, and honor his office, even if we don’t agree with all of his policies.

For example, there is nothing disrespectful about saying, “I disagree with so-and-so’s economic plan, or his foreign policies, or his views about Roe vs. Wade.” But it is just plain wrong to call our leader names and accuse him of being a rotten leader. After all, we’re the ones who put him there. And even if he isn’t our preferred candidate, I refuse to believe that anyone who makes it to that office is unqualified. To the contrary. If he had the fortitude and the perseverance and the desire to be president, and he rallied enough support to put him in the oval office, I think that journey alone separates him from the rest of the yahoos out there who do little but sit on their sofas and criticize.

Yes, I called them yahoos. But they are not my president.

So here, in black and white, for the whole world to read, I’d like to get one thing straight. I think George W. Bush has served his country well during one of the most difficult periods our country has seen. He has made difficult choices, choices that I would not have been able to make, for I would have buckled under the pressure. Every choice he made, every direction he took has been out of the greatest sense of duty and love for country. I am proud to have had him as my president for the last eight years. Mr. President, thank you for the sacrifices you have made, the stresses you have endured, and the criticisms you have ignored. May God bless you.

And no matter who wins this next election, I will be a proud American. I will respect the office of president, and I will pray for and support the office, even if I disagree with the person. I will show that person the honor that is deserving of the title.

Thank you, dear readers, for allowing me to exercise my freedom of speech here. May God bless America.

1 Timothy 2:1 – 3 “I urge then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone – for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior.”

Last week, my friend Maryann had a garage sale. Now, Maryann’s garage sale isn’t your typical garage sale. No-sir-ee, Bob. You see, Maryann is a decorator. As in, people actually pay her money to come and decorate their homes. And trust me, I’ve seen her work. This woman has beautiful taste.

So, when I found out Maryann was having a garage sale, I must confess. My blood started pumping, my heart started racing, and I nearly hyperventilated, right then and there. Well, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. But you get the idea.

And then, I went into panic mode, worrying that other people would get to the garage sale before me, and get all the good stuff! Not that Maryann would run out of good stuff, because all of her stuff is good stuff. Still, I felt the entirely selfish need to look out for number one.

I’m not too proud to beg. Okay, I am usually too proud to beg. But in this case, I made an exception. I asked her if I could come a day early and shop.

And she said yes!

So there I went, on a Thursday afternoon, over to Maryann’s garage sale. I was not disappointed.

I got an elegant picture for over my fireplace – a painting of a magnolia – at a fraction of the original cost! I got plush throw pillows, an original oil painting (in a gorgeous frame), curtains, a lamp, and many other goodies which are too numerous to list here. And now, my house has had a bargain makeover.

You know, my budget requires me to be thrifty. I love nice things, but I can’t afford to be extravagant in my spending. I’m pretty much of a Wal-Mart and garage sale kind of girl, though I’d love to be a Neiman Marcus kind of girl.

But even though my budget is limited, God’s budget is limitless. He loves me extravagantly, every second of every minute of every hour of every day. He showers me with rare and precious treasures, to show His love for me. And He does it because I have great value, in His eyes.

Instead of a bargain-basement lamp, He gives me the sun each morning. Instead of second-hand throw pillows, he gives me a plush carpet of grass in the spring and leaves in the fall. And as for the elegant picture over my fireplace, well, He gave me a real, honest-to-goodness magnolia tree. He has given me a wonderful family to love, loyal friends, and good health. His gifts are never counterfeit knock-offs, and they are never second hand. He only offers the real deal.

On top of all that, He adds to my joy by leading me to garage sales with wonderful items that fit both my taste and my budget. Just because He likes to see me smile.

I’m so glad we have an extravagant God, aren’t you?

James 1:17 “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights.”