A Worry a Minute

sad man prayingToday my body is hurting. The doctor isn’t worried. I am.

My mind is coming up with a worry a minute. As each one flits into my mind, I imagine handing it to God.

Here’s this one. And this one, and this one …

The worry may come. But it can’t stay.

My God can heal me. Or use the pain to reveal a deeper problem.

He comforts me through silly children, kind emails, a hug from my husband, a word from the Word.

Photo Credit: graur razvan ionut
Photo Credit: graur razvan ionut

He controls my circumstances.

Nothing is too hard for Him. No situation or medical condition confounds Him.

His hands hold the world, and yet He also protects and shields me in the shadow of His hand.

I don’t understand, but He does.

And today, even in pain, I take each little worry and trade it for trust.

With each exchange there is release and rest. Oh, ‘tis truly sweet to trust in Jesus.

How do you handle worry? What tips, scriptures or strategies have you found helpful?

Photo Credit: Photography by BJWOK
Photo Credit: Photography by BJWOK

Pauline’s Present

Pauline was a joy. I met her just after college graduation. She worked in the tiny cubicle kitty-corner to mine at the insurance agency. I was a summer temp. She was a long-term employee in the Fire Claims department.

Pauline and I technically didn’t work together, but because of the proximity of our desks, we often chatted. With her bright smile and sing-song voice, she told me story after story. When Pauline laughed, it was with her whole body, head back and teeth exposed.

However, not everyone saw this happy side of Pauline. She never ate lunch with us and took breaks at her desk. We never talked about that, but I know she was lonely.

You see, Pauline wasn’t pretty. She was hunchbacked and covered in moles. Her mouth was a bit crooked, several of her teeth were missing and the rest were crooked, and her hair was wiry gray. She wore plain cotton tops and pants, and when she spoke it was a bit too loud for the subdued office environment around us.

I was often in trouble for talking to Pauline.

But she was a delight to me. As an extrovert, my job as a typist was tedious and boring. Pauline’s exuberant personality and tall tales passed the long indoor work hours of summer more quickly.

On my last day of work that summer, I found a gift on my desk. It was a large 16×20 mounted, framed, and hand-stitched piece of artwork. The well-known “Footprints” saying was printed on it, and on the back a simple autograph from Pauline.

As I stared at the beautiful, meaningful gift, tears filled my eyes. I knew she must have worked on it most of the summer, which meant she’d started it even before she really knew me.

Even more, it revealed our common faith. She trusted the Lord too. Her time and thoughtfulness still overwhelm me.

I had always been told not to judge a book by its cover, but no one really told me what treasure I would find if I did just that. Maybe Pauline was glad to have someone hear her stories that summer, but the real present was mine.

“He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.”
 Isaiah 53:2-3

How often have I missed God’s love because it was delivered in a package I didn’t want to accept?

God draw me near and open my eyes and heart to see Your beauty.

The Ninja Turtle at the Playplace

“I made a new friend,” my youngest daughter said. She took a sip of her drink and peered at me over the top of her glasses.

“I see that,” I answered with a nod toward the little boy standing very close to our table. “What’s his name?”

She turned to him, “What’s your name?”

He said something unintelligible. We asked him to repeat himself, and I responded with the few words I understood. “Oh, Ninja Turtle!”

Nodding, he posed like a warrior and looked at my daughter for approval.

“C’mon,” she said to him and ran back into the play area.

He stayed very close to her. Because we were in such a public place and he didn’t look any older than four-years-old, I didn’t worry. In fact, it was cute how he stared at her with open admiration of her beauty and never let her get too far away.

I have an old Friend. He goes by so many wonderful names, but sometimes I just need to remember that He is my Warrior.

“Do not be afraid of them; the LORD your God Himself will fight for you” (Deuteronomy 4:22).

He will fight for you as well. He stays closer than a brother, gazes at you with utter adoration and remains faithful every minute of every day.

My daughter and the Ninja played tag, and he fell and got hurt. After a good cry in his mama’s arms, he got up and started following another girl around!

But not our God. Not our Jesus. We injure Him over and over, but He continuously stays with us. May we be wooed back to our Warrior today and enjoy the safety of His protection and the glory of His nearness to us.

A Mom & Her Machine

My daughter painted a sign after I redesigned my office:


I have a sewing machine in my space, but I love the idea of it primarily being my “Sowing Room.”

My new machine came around Christmas time, and my new passion (especially for pillows!) was born.

two pillows

My inspiration came after I successfully made a pillow for my mother-in-law for Christmas. Another mom, Sophia, also motivated me to get to work.

Three weeks after the happy birth of her second son, Sophia’s husband died suddenly. She received no life insurance and had little savings. This new single mom began sewing to make a living. Despite often working early and late, Sophia also made time to be a mom to her growing sons.

At her machine, this mom prayed.  Through her business, she openly talked of Jesus and shared God’s love with her customers.

Sophia became known more for sowing into people’s lives than for sewing drapes and clothes.

God answered her prayers. Her oldest son, H.A. Ironside, became one of the leading Christian writers and preachers of the 20th century.

couch covered in pillowsSophia inspires me. She became a single mom in the 1860’s! She sewed by candlelight at an antiquated machine.

Yet her faithful sowing led to an eternal harvest. Will mine? Will yours? I pray so.


To order pillows or pillow covers, please email me: saraATsaraschaffer.com. Also, all my items will be available soon at etsy.com/atouchmoredecor.

The Radio Debut

Four weeks ago I left my house at 5:30 a.m. and two hours later I was in surgery.

Since then, I was told all pathology reports were benign. I’ve been to the doctor twice and the ER once. I’ve redefined ‘dressed up’ to mean when I add a scarf and flowing wrap to black pajamas and wear shoes instead of slippers. Most days I’ve simply stayed in bed to heal.

But this morning was different. Again I was up early, but in the 7:00 hour, I was at the 910 AM KPOF radio station, ready to discuss Miracles & Moments of Grace: Inspiring Stories of Survival.


Fellow author and friend Elsi Dodge and I talked with Roy and Denise about the stories we have in the book, and at one point they graciously played a song from my CD.

To hear my radio debut, click here. You can find the Hope CD by clicking the links on the right.

On Saturday, if you’re in Colorado, we’d love to meet you and hear your inspiring stories at Mardel Christian bookstore in Littleton. Elsi and I will be there 10-2. I might even dress up!

Survivial, Stories, and a Book Signing


Recently fellow author Nancy Kennedy posted on Facebook:

Newlyweds Josh and Sara moved to Colorado, and in that sunny state, they felt like they were on vacation every day. Early one morning, Josh kissed a sleepy Sara good-bye and headed off to Keystone ski resort. It was the last time Sara saw her husband alive, and the beginning of her tidal wave of grief.

My dear friend Elsi Dodge has two stories in this book, making it an extra-special project to me.

If you’re looking for an inspirational gift or a good read, you can order a signed, gift-wrapped copy by emailing me at sara@saraschaffer.com. Cost, including shipping, is $20. (I bet I can get Elsi to sign it, too.)

We will be on KPOF 910 AM on Tuesday, November 25th from 8-9AM to talk about our book at the Breakfast Table with Roy and Denise. Tune in on-line!

Saturday, November 29th we’re signing books at Mardel’s. We’d love to have you stop by and say hello.

Josh died 15 years ago, and at the time a good friend told me I “had a lot of life left to live.” She was right, though that first Thanksgiving and Christmas were excruciating. Now I often feel like life is just beginning.

Wherever you find yourself as the holidays approach, I pray you will seek God’s truth and love. He is so wildly in love with us.

Lord, give us the grace to believe You care for us. You carry us through tragedy and through the mundane day-to-day. Bless those reading this. In so many ways, we are all survivors. Amen.

For more books by Nancy Kennedy, please go to: amazon.com.
For more books and writings by Elsi Dodge, please go to RVTourist.com.

Jesus Knows Me, This I Love

I wait. With more patience and confidence than I’ve ever exercised before, I wait.

When I turn the corner, open my email, check my messages on my phone–I’m expectant. Maybe today. Maybe now.

How to wait? This time I pray whenever it comes to mind. Please, Lord. Your best, God. And as Priscilla Shirer taught me I add: Do this or something better.

Boldness has crept in to my prayer-filled waiting. Certainly not because of me, only because now I know He loves me.

I smile when my daughters ask us for something we’ve already planned to give them. When we say, “Yes!” I want to capture their joyful gratitude in a bottle and market it worldwide.

That’s My heart for you, God whispers in my spirit. Ask Me.

Praying for things in God’s will sounds so elusive and mysterious. Could it simply mean praying with an attitude that accepts His right to refuse yet believing He wants to say yes?

Either response proves He loves me. Saying no to my daughters isn’t a power trip–why have I suspected God possessed such mean motives all these years?

Ah, forgive me!

Again, peace. The sign I saw in a mountainside cafe comes to mind, and I rest in its truth:

“Jesus knows me, this I love.”


The Secret View

I sit in my living room enjoying the refreshing autumn breeze. I have the 3-way picture window open a bit, and the cool air smells rich like a campfire thanks to my neighbor’s outdoor fireplace.

The aspens’ leaves have just begun to yellow. The Colorado sun beams down as the green leaves imperceptibly transform.

In a tree, a robin calls out. On the grass, a rabbit nibbles a fallen, dry leaf. A squirrel scampers across the fence and with a leap disappears into a neighbors tree.

Suddenly, instead of looking through the window, I look at it. Our picture window is on the back of our house. It lets in fresh air, beauty and wonder, but only to those of us inside our home see it.

The many who drive by our house in December never see our tall Christmas tree with its lights. Now in September it offers me a private showing of life.

God uses the moment to speak into my pride. Would you be a private picture window? What if I show myself through you to only a few? Do you see how that doesn’t make you less valuable?

Yes, Lord, I see that. In this world of marketing to build platforms, tribes, followers, friends, and connections, I will let You decide where I fit best into Your plan.

I grab my cup of hot tea and look again through the window to the tranquil view of my backyard, grateful our window doesn’t look out to a street. This is far more lovely to me. God, use me as you will, but please, let me reveal Your beauty.

Look Closely

This morning my husband found a dark puddle of liquid in the tiny reservoir under our refridgerator’s in-door water dispenser. There’s a shiny cover, so it wasn’t immediately obvious until he saw the edges of the cover were dirty.

Water is clear. This was not. Together we quickly cleaned it up.

It made me wonder what else I look at everyday without seeing it. My marriage? My Bible?

Yes, I tell my husband I love him everyday, and I read my Bible everyday, but is it possible that just below the shiny surface I am missing something that needs attention?

Isaiah became a prophet for Israel, and at his commissioning God told him:

“Go and tell this people:

“‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding;
be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’” –Isaiah 6:9 NIV

As a mom I can sort of relate. Many times I feel like I’m speaking but my children are only hearing, not responding.

And this morning I realized that every time I went to refill my water from the fridge door I was seeing but not perceiving.

The puddle of whatever-it-was was easy to clean up, and the good news is, as soon as we admit to God we are not fully engaged with Him, He responds. As soon as we ask forgiveness, He forgives and cleans us up.

So, quick, check that little spot under your water spout in the fridge door. Then get a cup of water, sit down and really look at your Bible. Not sure where to start? I recommend Psalm 51, Isaiah 6 and Matthew 13.

Dear God, forgive our forgetfulness, numbness and blindness. Thank You for giving us eyes to see You again today. Amen.

My Wife Won’t Speak to Me

“Guest Post”

I love my wife. I sing to her, paint for her, provide for her and love her like crazy.

But here’s a typical day:

She sleeps as late as possible, then gets up and rushes around to get ready for the day. She walks past me like I’m not even there and doesn’t bother to say either “Good morning” or “Good-bye” on her way out the door.

Throughout her work day she knows she can call me anytime, but she doesn’t. I leave her texts, but she doesn’t even read them.

We meet for dinner, but she eats it without thanking me for taking her out. In fact, she invites some of our friends and talks to them the whole meal, acting like I don’t even exist.

On the drive home she listens to her music, yells at other drivers at times, but treats me like I’m invisible.

When we get home, she changes to comfy clothes, crawls into bed and turns on the TV. She laughs at fabricated jokes but can’t seem to hear my true humor.

Hours later, without any acknowledgement of our marriage, she clicks off the TV, turns away from me and goes to sleep.

I watch her, aching to love her. But I’ll wait until she turns to me first. She usually talks to me at least once on the weekend. In that time, I woo her, but she seems to forget me when Monday comes again.

So I wait. I love her so much.

Is this our relationship with Jesus? Are we doing life oblivious to His crazy love and constant presence? Is occasional time in the Bible enough? Is weekly worship acceptable?

Dear one, He waits for us. Let us speak to Him now and now and now … allowing Jesus to fill our spirits and invade each moment of our lives with His divine presence.