Yesterday my son had my granddaughter here for a time.  We had a good visit, she wandered in and out of bible study and then went outside with her dad.  After the last person left the bible study I cleaned up and then got ready to head in for a bath.  As my son was leaving, my granddaughter ran up to the closed door and yelled, "Nana, I'm leaving!  I'm blowing you a kiss and a hug!"  I yelled back, "Mmm, got it!  Here's one for you too!". 
Do you ever feel like God and heaven are so far away, that there is no hearing God, there is no chance of really seeing heaven, nice pie in the sky dream?  Let me tell you, God is as close to you as my granddaughter was to me; there was just a door between us.  Jesus tells us in Mark 10:15, "I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn't receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it."  My granddaughter had the faith that I was not only on the other side of that door, but that I would hear her when she called.  I believe my heavenly Father is just on the other side of a door; that door is called death.  Death is just the opening of that doorway into heaven and then we are with our Father.  Faith is the walk that takes us up to that door, and then leads us through it.  Faith that yes, Jesus died on the cross for our sins.  That he was buried and rose again, and sits on the right hand of the Father, forever interceding for us.  Faith that He is always with us.  Faith that His Spirit resides in us.  Faith that this life here is but a vapor and that He has prepared a place for us with Him in the heavenlies.  Faith that I hear His voice every day; in reading His word.  In hearing His Spirit speak to my innermost being; leading and teaching and correcting.  In seeing His handiwork as I see the beauty He has created in nature.  The trees and flowers and mountains. The night sky with its myriad of stars putting on a light show just for me.  The joy in a child's face.  The life experience shown in the wrinkles of an elderly person. 
Faith like a child.  I have that faith.  I know that my Father is there, and not only that I hear Him, but that He hears me.  He hears my prayers, my joyful worship and praise.  He hears my inner groanings that cannot even be put into words.  He sees my laughter and my tears.  And even better than just hearing, He cares!  He loves me more than I can ever comprehend.  He created me for His good purpose, and He delights over me with singing (Zeph. 3:17).  He gives me hope and grace and mercy.  He has made me promises that He will keep.  He has loved me with an everlasting love.  He is my peace and my salvation.  And He is waiting for me just on the other side of that door.  And He is not alone there.  My loved ones who have gone before me are there.  Rooting me on to good works and to the day that I shall be with them forever.  Many is the time that my heart hurts for missing my mom and dad.  I shed a tear, but then I always ask Jesus, please give mom and dad a hug and tell them I love and miss them.  I believe that just like my granddaughter blew me that kiss and hug through that door last night, my parents get their kisses and hugs through that door.  They are truly only a heart beat away...and oh, the day that I see them again.  What rejoicing there will be.  In the presence of our heavenly Father, all because He loved us so much that He provided a way for us to Him...through that door!

What an odd title...wouldn't you say? An old tube of toothpaste, ready to throw away. Or is it? I don't know about you, but there have been more times than I like to remember when money was tighter than tight. When we had to go to social services in town and get help paying our electric bill, or stand in line for a food box and hope that all of the produce wasn't rotten. So, through all of that I learned how to be frugal. I can stretch a pound of hamburger to feed 5 for three nights. I don't necessarily have to anymore but that becomes engrained in you after awhile. I have met many who have lived through the depression who will never live through anything that rough again, but still live with that mentality.
I still have that thriftiness inside of me. I can get every last drop out of the detergent bottle. Cut open the lotion tube and get it cleaner than a whistle with nothing left inside. Take a toothpick and get all of that lipstick out of the container. And yes, get that toothpaste tube squeezed so flat that there isn't even air left in it. After all, you didn't really pay for the container, did you? You spent good money on the toothpaste that came IN the tube, not just for the tube itself. What are you going to do with that empty tube? Hang it on the wall as art? Ok, I have to admit, in some parts of society, that might just be considered art...just saying.
So back to that thought on toothpaste. You spent your hard earned money on the toothpaste so that you can keep your teeth clean, have a shiny smile and be able to go out there and earn more money to buy more toothpaste. There was a cost for that toothpaste. So you use it up. For me, as I said before, to the last hhaaaarrrrdddd squeeze worth, and then throw that tube away.
Take a moment to think of your life. The bible says we are just strangers here on earth. Sojourners, awaiting our time to go home. We live in this vessel we call a body. We go to work, or to school, or we are retired, or whatever. We live out our lives, then what happens with us after we are returned to our heavenly home that our Father has prepared for us? (John 14:2) These fragile vessels don't go with us, they are cast aside, hopefully fulfilling the purpose that they were intended for. Just like that toothpaste tube.
But, here in lies the rub...what was inside of our vessel was purchased with a price. A costly price that not one of us here on earth could possibly pay. The cost was the life of our Saviour, Jesus. He willingly laid down His life for us, that we might live a victorious, fulfilled life here on earth before we return to Him. He didn't just pay for the vessel, He paid for the soul and spirit inside of us. He paid for the disposable part of us, as well as the eternal part of us.
Think about that tube of toothpaste. It took some squeezing to get that last little glob out. It took pressure. I am sure an engineer or someone smarter than I could tell you how many pounds per square inch it takes to (big word alert) extrude that toothpaste out. I don't just give it a little squish here and say, ok all done. I probably stick my tongue out as I am squeezing and rolling that tube up tighter than tight to feel that I have gotten the most for my money.
I want to live my life in this frail vessel like I use that tube of toothpaste. I want to know that the price that was paid for me was not wasted. I want to live to the fullest, to quit being afraid. To let the pressure of life, the hard times (that God promised He would be with me through) mold me and make me into the woman He destined me to be. I want to say at the end of my life, God you used me all up, every last drop...and then I will hear from Him, "well done, good and faithful servant".
I talked about frugality before. The one thing I don't want to be frugal with is the life that He has gifted me with. All of it. The laughter, the tears. The joy, the sorrow. The life and the death. The love that He has placed inside of me. ALL of it comes from Him, can be used by Him and returns to Him. Don't be afraid of it. Embrace it and the One who gave it to you. Because unlike that useless old used up tube of toothpaste, YOU are a work of art. The handiwork of the Maker of the universe. The craftsmanship of the Creator of all things. The apple of His eye. The One who love you abundantly and boundlessly; as it says in Zephaniah 3:17 "The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by his love; He will exult over you with loud singing."
Picture that the next time things are hard. When you feel all used up and disposable...remember He EXULTS over you with singing!! And to Him you are priceless!

I have always approached father's day with mixed emotions.  I lost my dad in 2000.  It was so hard losing him to cancer.  I guess the word to describe our relationship is something that you see on all the social media these days...complicated.  He was my hero when I was small.  He was a homicide detective.  Big and handsome.  And unfortunately, an alcoholic.  Most of my childhood memories of him are when he was drunk, and either a laughing jokester or an angry man.  But I loved him.  I still have some very fond memories of him when I was under 10.  Of taking me to police department picnic and helping me win a ginormous watermelon in some game, and then letting me decide to carry it all by myself and then of course dropping it in the middle of the parking lot!  Or of helping me learn to swim.  But my later memories of him were much darker.  After he retired from the LAPD he had way too much time on his hands and became bored.  So it was golf in the morning then home drinking until he passed out most nights.  My adolescence and teenage years were extremely difficult.  Father's day was usually a disappointment for all involved. 
It wasn't until I had married, had children and given my life to Christ that I had some compassion and empathy for my dad.  I remember the first time of visiting him from where we lived in Ca and getting ready to head back home.  Kind of choking up and not wanting to say goodbye.  Giving him a big awkward hug, that he was even less used to than I was.  It was strange, but felt right.  He was not a physical man, never hugged, kissed me or told me he was proud of me.  But after that visit, if I got up to leave without hugging him, he would track me down for one.  Our relationship changed.  Not because he changed, but because I did.  I had a heart to see his heartbreaks.  To see his disappointments and failures and look past them and be grateful for the dad that God had given to me.  Yes, given.  My dad was a gift.  For all his faults and failings, he was my dad.  I had finally grown enough to realize how much he did love me even though he never showed it for years.
I think father's day for most of us is painful in some way.  We either had a man who was a poor father, or maybe one who just wasn't emotionally available, or for me now, my dad is no longer here.  I thank God that I had the chance to let my dad know before he died how much I loved him.  That I was able to share my faith in God with him, and in the last moments of his life, to see him lift his arms to his heavenly Father and enter into his loving arms the moment he left mine.
God is a god of redemption.  God redeemed me, then redeemed my relationship with my dad, and then redeemed his heart.  I am glad, that even though the truth of the matter is that my dad was most of the time a failure as a dad, I could see that truth and with the love of God, accept him as he was and love us both into being better people.  None of us is perfect.  None but God, and He is such a God of love that He wants us to become better, and to take others with us on that journey.  It is not easy.  Most good things never are.  It took work and tears and disappointments to bring me to the place of loving my dad, warts and all.  And then to extend to him the same forgiveness that Jesus extended to me.
I am so grateful for that.  And that I know that one day I will see my dad again.  I will be able to rejoice with him in heaven with our Heavenly Father and know that is was all part of a plan.  Maybe not even so much for my dad, but a plan to grow me up, to turn me into a strong compassionate woman who can love people unconditionally.  I know there are times I still fail, but as long as most of my momentum is forward, then I feel I am doing what I am supposed to.  First love God, then be able to love myself and accept His love and forgiveness, and then extend that love and forgiveness to others; whether I feel they deserve it or not.  Oh, please know how great the reward is when we become more Christ-like.  For us and for all those we come in contact with!!

My handsome dad!

I hope that you will take time to read the tribute I wrote to my dad a few years before he
A Tribute to my Dad
Some say that you were a hard-nosed cop, others called you "ol' mean eyes", but I just knew you as my Dad, who loved me.
My Dad: you taught me to swim, and you carried me in to a warm bath the day that I was 'brave' enough to dive into a freezing pool before my brother did.
My Dad: who took us camping, and taught me to fish. You roasted sunflower seeds in a frying pan for me. And carried me back from the store the time I stubbed my toe at Three Rivers.
My Dad: who took me trick-or-treating. You always made sure that I was safe, and that my bag was full when I came home.
My Dad: who, when I was a child, was my hero. You put your life on the line, "to protect and to serve", but no matter how busy you were, you brought me food from McDonald's if I was home sick.
My Dad: as a teenager, I forgot sometimes how much I loved you. And sometimes I forgot to respect you - and I apologize for that. It is not that you were any less special...I was. I was self-centered and forgot that parents are human too. Not always perfect, but always worthy of being honored. I'm sorry, Dad for the times that I hurt you.
Some moments during my teen years were painful. I was shy and withdrawn, and it was hard for me to make friends. I feel like I not only withdrew from the world, but from you and Mom, also. I lost that closeness that we had when I was a child, and was too insensitive to miss it.
But, as I grew older, and started making my own decisions, you may not have agreed with me, but you did stand behind me. And when my first marriage fell apart - I know now how much you must have hurt. And how much more it hurt when I didn't choose to come home. Then, when I felt lost and was broke in the big city, my Dad came and rescued me. But, I still didn't thank you, and I am sorry for that, and if I ever did anything to hurt the honor of the name Koivu.
Then I met a man that I knew I would marry the first time I spoke with him. And again, you supported my decision. I think that you even liked him!
Now, I am a mother of three, and living what sometime seems like a million miles away. And I miss my Dad. We went through some rough times, and you were always there for us. At a time when your 'little girl' was hurt, you were there, and when God put my marriage back together - you loved Jim as much as you always did. I respect you so much for that.
God has done so much in my life - He took a shy, overweight girl who was scared to death of crowds and turned her into a confident woman. But the best thing that He did was to let me be a little girl again, at least in my heart. A little girl who thinks the world of her Dad. One who loves him so much and is thankful to God for repairing all the damage wrought by an unthinking teenager.
I love you Dad, and I thank God every day of my life. You will always be my hero!

Whew!  Finally figured out that 'saved' and published are not the same thing!!!  Thinking about it, that is kind of like our walk with Christ.  We can make all the grandiose plans that we want, go through it a thousand times in our heads how we are going to do better, be kinder; but until we actually put feet to our thoughts, it is all nothing.  I am so happy that you decided to read my blog.  Never thought I would have one.  Had always 'thought' (kind of like what I said above) that I would write a book or something for publication, but never put my fingers to the keyboard to actually get the words on paper.  So much for all that wasted time.  I always felt that I had to be something more, be someone more.  Someone more learned, more accomplished, more whatever.  But I finally realized I am just me...but I am just the me that God created, and even better than that; I am that Gail, redeemed!!  Oh what a glorious thought!  That I am on my way to becoming the Gail that He created me to be.  Praying everyday to become more Christ-like.  I have dealt with low self-esteem issues my whole life.  Feeling that I never measured up...not realizing that the only standard I have to measure up to is the one that God has, and His delight is to help me to live up that.  What a gift we are given when we receive Jesus as our Lord and Saviour.  What a gift to know that we don't have to give in to that sin nature that we are born with, but because of His sacrifice, we can live to Him every day. 
I have realized that I am stronger than I think I am.  That the times that I feel weak and inefficient are the times that I am not living in the fullness of what the Lord has for me.  I never would have thought that I would have been able to care for a parent who had a massive stroke and continuous health problems for three years.  But as I sought the Lord day by day, I realized what a gift it was to care for my mom.  That the past that had been so rough was redeemed in the daily act of caring for her; changing diapers, feeding, listening in the middle of the night for her to stir.  I sit here in tears, thankful for a God who gets us past our inadequacies, pushes us farther than we think we can go.  Because He knows what we are made of.  We are the stuff of divine miracles.  The children of the one true God.  The apple of His eye.
Just think of that for a few minutes when you are feeling insufficient.
So, thank you for dropping by.  I hope that you will find encouragement here.  I know that that is one of the things the Lord has called me to do.  We all need that from time to time, don't we?  Probably more often than we would like to admit.  So if you find anything here that blesses you, please take a moment and let me know.  Or if you have a criticism, let me know that also.  I am hoping that through this I will also grow, go from glory to glory as it were.