Turn the World Upside Down

Acts 17:6b “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also.”

At church this past week, the pastor gave a sermon about this verse.  Turning the world upside down.  Christ’s apostles may have seemed little more than lemmings during His ministry, but the Holy Spirit did something incredible with them.  Suddenly, this ragtag group of cowards hiding in a locked room after Jesus’ death were turning the world upside down with Christ’s Gospel.

I’ll spare you the history lesson, but you don’t need it to look around you and see that they truly did turn the world upside down.  They took Christ’s command to go to all nations completely seriously.  Countless lives have been changed by the Holy Spirit since then.

But I don’t think the disciples turned the world upside down.  I think they turned it right side up.

After all, humanity was not created sinful.  We were made in God’s image and there is no sin in God.  Our covenant with Christ brings us back to Him.  Back to where we belong.

My theology teacher made the point that all of Christ’s “miracles” were small samplings of Him fixing this earth; restoring it to its rightful purpose. When He died for our sins, he turned us right side up again in our relationships with God.  Through Jesus, God doesn’t look at us and see someone who is turned around and hopelessly lost, but someone who is oriented, found in Him.

But the whole world is not yet standing on their feet.  There are still billions of people who are lost and upside down.  They don’t have their bearings yet.  So that’s our job.  We need the Holy Spirit’s strength and guidance to set them on their feet.

So I’d like to challenge you, not to turn the world upside down as you go about your life, but to turn it right side up.


To the Tea

Prompt from The Daily Post.  Hope you’re having a great day!

Dearest Ambrosia,

I can’t remember when this beautiful adventure began.  I’m sure there was some sort of love-at-first-sip experience, but it isn’t coming to me.  All I know is that it has been a good many years since I first began to dote on you.

I have amassed quite the collection of things for you over time. I have a china teacup (just one because this relationship is a rather intimate one, wouldn’t you say?), a mug with the Cheshire cat’s face, a tea set from Singapore, a loose-leaf individual serving steeping cup, a two serving pot designed to pull the tea-bag out of the way when it is finished brewing, a hand-painted (by yours truly) teapot that looks like a fishbowl, the decorative container that my loose-leaf oolong tea came in, the tin that once held my British tea biscuits, the strainer from the glass I bought in Canada (that is sadly broken now), a beautiful box with individual dividers for tea bags, and all of the various teas I have acquired over these many beautiful years.

Do you remember our excursions in England?  There was the cafe where everyone ordered Coke, but I ordered green tea.  We have a new connection since then.  It was like you brought me home to your parents.  Or the Churchill war rooms?  I used cream for the first time.  It felt a little risky at first, but it was another level of connection in our relationship.

You are always there to pick me up when I need you.  My English tea bags even remind me that there is no trouble so great that it cannot be greatly diminished by a nice cup of tea.

There was the day that I went home sick and we had a quiet little tea time.  First at the bar, then we ventured out into the rain together to sit on the front porch.

Or the time that my finals were so abysmal that I was reduced to tears.  You were there to remind me that it wasn’t as bad as all that. Moping isn’t attractive either, and you helped me to remember that.

Thank you dearest tea, for your wonderful contribution to my life.

With love,

Your faithful addict

Talk of France

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Connect the Dots.”

“Put me down as saying that I take my hat off to the people of France.” – pg. 82 Monuments Men by Robert M. Edsel

Margie unfolded the letter again, still not quite believing that the untidy scrawl could be speaking the truth.  It read:

My dearest Margie,

I dare say you’ll be surprised to learn that I have made it to Normandy.  I know I wasn’t supposed to get here for a few weeks yet, but we were running ahead of schedule back home and we didn’t see any reason to linger in the damp old countryside when we could be headed to Paris.  England is great and all, but it is a bit of a swamp.

Margie, put me down as taking my hat off to the people of France.  I know the Brits aren’t real keen on this place, but everyone here has treated me like royalty.  We’re staying a week in Coen, but some of the guys don’t like being so close to the beaches.  It reminds them of the war, see.  They all say I’m too young to be properly haunted, but we were twelve when it all happened.  I remember your papa coming home with shell-shock and let me tell you I won’t ever forget it.  Anyway, the French have been real good to us, so you needn’t worry about me.  We’ve been staying at a sweet little inn and the old lady that runs it is just like my Grandma.  She’s a sweetheart, but don’t you dare cross her.  That being said, she makes the best crepes around.  When you get here, I promise you the first meal I’m going to give you is a nice batch of crepes sucre.  

Speaking of you coming, I got you a ticket.  It isn’t the nicest ticket on the boat, but it’ll give you a comfortable ride.  You’re to come straight to Paris on the train once you get here, but I’ll have to take you to Normandy sometime because there isn’t anything quite like it.  I put your ticket in the envelope, so don’t lose it.

I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks!  You take care of your daddy and our baby and the time will fly by. 

With all my love,


Margie pocketed the note again, the paper falling easily into its worn creases.  She put a hand on her swelling belly and looked up at the ship docked  in the harbor.  Slowly, Margie dared to believe it.  She was going to Paris.

What Next?


I have less than a semester left of high school.

That is terrifying.

I’m a worry-wart and I love to over-analyse everything I can.  Still, leaving high school is a huge jump from childhood to adulthood.  I still have not chosen a college much less a certain major or place to go with my life.  And still, the date when I am released into the world draws every closer.

I think there is a reason that mama birds shove their young out of the nest.  The fledgling birds would never learn how to fly if they didn’t have to stop themselves from falling.  I think sometimes humans think like that.  The mentality that pulling the rug out from under someone’s feet is the best way to teach them to keep their balance.

That makes the world a scary place.

Fortunately, it really isn’t as bad as all that.  I have a supportive family that has no plans to leave me to my own devices.  They will always be just a phone-call away.

More importantly, I have God leading me through every aspect of my life.  He knows what is best for me and he is guiding me to the best end in every situation.  I never have to walk alone, which is a good thing, because that would involve a whole lot of falling down.


Jude 1:24-25 “ Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.”

Back on Track


The Daily Beautiful is updated!

I am sorry for lagging behind for so long and for my lack of content lately.  I will be trying to crank out more posts here in the near future and I have some content I’ve started that I am super excited about.  It may or may not involve tea, crustaceans from space, bundt cakes, and the like.

Thanks so much for hanging in there for a massive chunk of time with no new content.  You are wonderful human beings.

Have a great week!