Today was a beautiful rainy day - the kind of day to grab a good book, curl up in a chair with a cup of hot chocolate and read.

Holding a good book is only one of the ways to use our hands. Others? Petting fluffy dogs, picking flowers, clapping for things we like, giving hugs and - most importantly - helping others. Given to us by our loving Creator, our hands are gifts to be used for blessing others.

One Hand, Two Hands by Max Lucado is a wonderful children's books full of colorful, whimsical pictures kids will love. So, curl up in a chair, pull a little one into your lap and read about all the great things you can do with your God given hands.

Interested in this great book? http://www.thomasnelson.com/consumer/product_detail.asp?sku=1400316499&title=One_Hand,_Two_Hands

This book was provided by Thomas Nelson Publishers for review.

Multiple Choice Question:

When you are driving and the dessert trifle in the seat next to you tips over, you...:

A. Reach to grab it
B. Take your eyes off the road and look at it
C. Run into the neighbor's mailbox
D. All of the above

For Melissa Sturm, the answer is D. For that is exactly what I did this morning.

It's odd how the little things in life fill our minds. On Sunday morning I had two goals: don't forget my Bible (which I had done two weeks earlier) and get the trifle to the car without dropping it. I accomplished them both, only to meet the mailbox down the street a moment later. Obviously, this run-in was not on my Sunday morning agenda. Or on any agenda of any day that week...or lifetime.

I guess it's safe to say, I saved the trifle. The top didn't look perfect, but it didn't spill and tasted fine. I didn't save the mailbox, even though I swerved to avoid it when I saw it right in front of me. Nor did I save my car. At least, I didn't save the right side bumper.

If dying means you no longer think, then I died for about five seconds today. Because for that amount of time I literally thought of nothing. My Bible on the floor, the mailbox I sent flying or the car that made funny noises at me because I didn't have my clutch all the way in. When my mind finally reconnected to my body, I knew to do only one thing. I put the clutch in, shifted to reverse and backed carefully into the neighbor's driveway. I turned off the car and gathered what wits I had left. I was visibly shaken.

Now the phrase "visibly shaken" is often used by authors to exaggerate the feeling of their characters in a moment of fear or terror. But I mean it literally. I really was shaking. I shook all the way to the other side of my car where I checked out the damage. (Which, on first perusal didn't seem that bad, second look seemed much worse, final look later that day proved I got off easy...some scratches to my bumper, the side light/reflector shattered and bulb blown, the plastic covering of the light destroyed but light perfectly operable, and a slight dent in the hood.) Then I shook as I found the mailbox, picked it up and walked to the front door. I also shook while I knocked and waited for an answer.

A woman answered the knock, probably saw I was shaking and couldn't have missed the large mailbox in hand. The conversation went something like this:

"Hi. I'm sorry, I just ran over your mailbox."

"Are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine."

"Is your car all right?"

"Yeah...will need the light fixed, but it's fine. I'm just really sorry about your mailbox."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh, I'm all right."

Pause. The lady studies me briefly and then says, "You know, you're really very cute."

"Um, thank you."

(Upon later reflection, I determined that now I'm 30 I should be beyond "cute" but, hey, it works.)

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I am just really, really sorry. I'll pay for the damages. I live just down the street."

"Oh, that's fine. I just really appreciate your honesty. That curve is awful, and more people have hit our mailbox. Usually they just leave and don't say anything. I have a teenage son. I'll get him to fix it this afternoon."

Then she gives me a hug! And I end the conversation by once more apologizing - for both the mailbox and disturbing her on a Sunday morning.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm just going to go get ready for church."

As I got back into my car, I was still shaking a bit, but it didn't last very long. I wondered how late I would be getting to church, but didn't care. (One accident is enough for one day - and one lifetime.) I wondered why I had to have a run in with a mailbox and scratch up my car. And how much was this little episode going to cost me. But, funnily enough, it never crossed my mind to shake my fist at God for this Sovereign run-in. I just shrugged, and then realized how much I had to be thankful for.

For one, the damage even with a mailbox could have been MUCH worse. In the long run, it may cost me a bit if I want to repair the bumper and all that, but up front the sole cost will be one plastic covering for a headlight and a mailbox. Secondly, it was a mailbox. It wasn't another vehicle. And I didn't harm myself or anyone else. Thirdly, the mailbox didn't fight back. For while I would have rather hit my grandfather's mailbox which is smaller, and wobbly and sits upon narrow iron bars versus the large plastic one atop a thick piece of wood I did hit; at least I didn't hit the one on the other end of the street which is entirely brick. Fourthly, the woman was very kind, understanding, and more concerned about me than her mailbox. And lastly, I can laugh about it. And laughter is a good medicine.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. Psalm 139:16 (ESV)

Every time I read Psalm 139, I am amazed at my Creator. It is astounding how much He thinks of me. He gave me my blue eyes, my dark hair (that started out bleach blond), my high cheekbones, every single line etched into my skin, and the dots called freckles. Everything I both like and dislike about myself, He made with loving consideration.

But as I read this Psalm today in the ESV version, I found the above verse more amazing than ever. For I truly believe in a sovereign God who knows my beginning, every day inbetween, and my end. And, yes, He knew them before I was born. But its more than He simply knew them - He has formed every single one of them.

If my math is correct, I have lived 11,145 days. And every single one of them was expressly designed moment by moment for me. The big events: 13 moves, the first day of Kindergarten, high school graduation, first job, the birth of eight siblings (and death of one), chickenpox, first car, innumerable friends, the day of my salvation...and the list continues. Or the small events: every sun rise, snowstorm and rain fall; book reports and books read; waking up and going to sleep; brushing my hair and my teeth; shopping; eating; drinking.

Just think about it for a second. In eternity past, God knew that Melissa Michele Sturm on her first day of Kindergarten some time in August of 1985 in the little town of Lewisburg, Tennessee where she lived in the upstairs of a rock house with a quilted bedspread made by her mother would stand at the end of her gravel driveway and wait for a yellow school bus that did not pick her up. Instead, a yellow school bus driven by a white haired lady realized the mistake and stopped for this little girl carrying her rainbow backpack and dressed in her favorite Strawberry Shortcake dress which her mother had made even though the said bus driver had already dropped off her load at Marshall Elementary School on the other side of town. So, Melissa Michele Sturm took the long way to school that morning (via Connelly Middle School where her parents had attended junior high "ages" ago), prayed she would not get off at the wrong school, and arrived to walk down the hall of Marshall Elementary just in time to reach her classroom. Where her teacher was Miss Cummings and where - over the next nine months - she would meet Katie Lovett (whom she still corresponds with 25 years later, although Katie is now married and the mother of two), lose her first tooth, have a boy in the class draw on her doll's head, and be introduced to Saint Patrick's Day when she did not wear green because she did not know she was supposed to and got pinched. And those are just some of the details she remembers. God ordained each of them, plus the millions she has completely forgotten. And He ordained each of them before Melissa Michele Sturm even existed. Or her parents existed. Or her grandparents. Or...you get the point.

It's very, very easy for me to forget God's ordaining grace and love. So many days, I simply focus on survival (especially in Texas). And other days, I get caught up with thinking about the future and despairing of things I hold dear - marriage, kids of my own, living among cold weather and mountains and trees, having a book published - that haven't happened and might never. Then I read Psalm 139 and marvel that I live with my head stuck in the sand and forget that my God loves me dearly, would never give me a snake for the fish I asked of Him, and NOTHING will ever happen to me that He has not already graciously ordained. Now, of course, that does not mean I will not face trials - maybe even worse than the ones I have already had - but He's seen me through them, hasn't He? And even though I wouldn't wish them on my worse enemy, I would never give up the lessons they have taught me. Because my Heavenly Father knows BEST. And He has already ordained it.

For us, surprises happen (like canceled airline tickets - long story). And they make us upset (very upset). But why? Because we forget how great our God is - and how He has formed every piece of us and our lives. And while some people might not like that fact, I treasure it. For no where else will I find a love like that.

Charm Bracelets

When I was a little girl, I loved Mom's charm bracelets. They were especially fun when the pastor decided to get a bit long winded. I believe she has three of them, and I never tired of looking at them. At one time, I probably had all the charms memorized. I knew the stories behind most of them. I found that most interesting. Even a little charm has a history - a history that tells me about my mom.

I received my first charm bracelet the Christmas I was fifteen. It was silver and had a heart already attached. Over the next ten years, I collected charms until it was full. The Christmas I was 26, I got a new one. So, I decided charm bracelet #1 would be for the first 25 years of my life. Charm bracelet #2 will be for the next 25...should I live that long.

Charm bracelets reveal a lot about their owners. A couple of girls at church and I were discussing that several weeks ago when I stopped to admire one of their bracelets. It told me she loves elephants and every year she was on a Bible drill team she had a charm made to go along with the theme. I never thought of an idea like that.

This week I was wearing charm bracelet #2, (#1 is in my dresser drawer in Indiana) and I got to thinking about what my bracelets tell about me. It's rather interesting, actually.

Charm Bracelet #1:

• 3 picture charms, one of me at age 2, one of Katey and I just after Katey was born, and one of Katey and I a couple of years later: to prove I really did have bleach blond hair! And I loved being a big sister
• flute: I played the flute for nine years
• state of Texas: I lived there - now three times
• carousel: I love carousels
• computer: I can't say I love computers, but for some reason I'm good with them
• mustard seed: to match my mom - I loved that charm on her bracelet
• engraved circle: reads "Graduation, 1998", when I graduated from highschool
• state of Rhode Island: where I was born - hooray!
• graduation cap: engraved "12/5/2005", when I graduated from college
• Sweet 16: self explanatory...and a long time ago

Charm Bracelet #2:

• Navy symbol: I was born a Navy brat - Go Navy! Beat Army!
• heart with a citrine stone: my Indian name from camp is "Conscientious Citrine"
• blue M&M guy: my initials are M.M.S.
• fall leaf: beautiful New England autumns
• Confederate flag: where all my sympathies lie, even if the South doesn't rise again

Maybe some day I'll have little girls of my own. During church when the pastor waxes eloquent, they'll finger my charms and imagine when they're grown up and can have bracelets of their own. And after church, they'll say, "Mommy, what's this one for?" And I'll smile and say, "Well, many years ago..." And remember my past and all the Lord filled it with.

Today my "baby" sister turns 17...


Happy Birthday, Charlie!