Nancy Moser

Nancy Moser is the award-winning author of over twenty inspirational novels. Her genres include contemporary stories including John 3:16 and Time Lottery, and historical novels of real women-of-history including Just Jane (Jane Austen) and Washington's Lady (Martha Washington). Her newest historical novel is Masquerade. Nancy and her husband Mark live in the Midwest. She’s earned a degree in architecture, traveled extensively in Europe, and has performed in numerous theaters, symphonies, and choirs. She gives Sister Circle Seminars around the country, helping women identify their gifts as they celebrate their sisterhood. She is a fan of anything antique—humans included. Find out more at and

Accepting Blessings

He has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;
yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
I know that there is nothing better for men
than to be happy and do good while they live.

Ecclesiastes 3:11–12 (NIV)

“This can’t last.”

As I walked with my husband during our evening jaunt around the neighborhood, I nodded.

“It’s too good,” he added.

I nodded again.

Lately, we’d felt incredibly blessed: I wasn’t stressed about writing, I had time to get the little chores done, my husband’s talent for making our lawn and garden green and lush was vividly evident, his retirement was enjoyable (for both of us), our son had moved into a new home,  and a daughter’s wedding plans were coming along. Just that weekend, while at our granddaughter’s birthday party, someone had said to me, “You’ve had a fantastic five years. All three kids married, with three grandkids . . .” The words had added to our feeling of being incredibly blessed.

Yet as my husband voiced the blessings, we also had this overlying feeling that it couldn’t last. Looking out on the distresses and stresses of the world, our little slice of utopia had to be interrupted by some kind of crisis. It was inevitable.

But as we finished our walk, I hated that my last view of the sunset that evening was tainted by my inner clouds of logic. The three words This can’t last seemed blasphemous, heretical. At the very least disrespectful to God.

That night I awakened early, at three a.m. I tossed and turned until four, when I finally got up and went to my office, surrendered to getting something done. But then I noticed a book of devotions on the floor next to my chair. I took it up and opened it.

And I learned something.

I read a section about saying yes to God. When Mary was told she was going to have a baby—the Son of God—she replied, “May it be to me as you have said.”

If an angel came and told me such a thing, how would I react? Would I be as complacent as Mary? No way. For one thing, I wouldn’t have believed I’d even seen a real angel, and I would have argued and wanted details.

In contrast to Mary’s reaction to her enormous blessing, the same angel told the priest Zechariah that his aged wife was going to have a baby (John the Baptist). He didn’t believe it and wanted proof. God’s response? He made Zechariah mute until the baby was born and named.


There, in the darkness of the early morning, I was faced with a decision. Lately God had given us a bounty of blessings. Yet there we were, questioning them, tainting them with logic, worrying about when they’d go away and when trouble would come.

So what was God asking of us?

Could it be that His current request was to merely accept His blessings without question? Instead of constantly thinking the other shoe was going to drop—must drop—did He want us to appreciate the good times, acknowledge His hand in them, and simply accept them as a gift?

Just as Zechariah missed the blessing of fully enjoying the nine months of his wife’s miraculous pregnancy because he sought logic, details, and a sign from God, my husband and I were at risk of ruining the enormous blessings of God with our practical attitude.

And then there was the other question that plagued us. According to our accounting we hadn’t done anything to deserve these blessings, which made their existence all the more confusing.

What was going on?

I shut the devotional and bowed my head, surrendering my confusion, guilt, and human shortcomings to the Lord. Instead of being fearful about when the blessings would end, instead of being worrisome and logical like Zechariah, I prayed we would be like Mary, the mother of God and accept everything. As Psalm 100:4–5 says: “Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations” (NIV).

For whatever reason, we were traveling through a time of blessings.

Are you?

If so, stop looking for a stain in the silver lining and wallow in its heavenly shimmer.

What’s going on? What’s always going on?



Nancy Moser