Letter to Santa?

The lights blaze outside my windows...of polar bears, deer, presents, lighted trees and Frosty, of course. The house is quiet except for the familiar words coming from It's a Wonderful Life on the television.  All the children and grandchildren are elsewhere with last minute celebrations before the big night, but my thoughts are with them during this wonderful celebration we call Christmas.

Peace reigns in my soul and the moment turns to wonderment of my numerous blessings.  Who can say why one who deserves the least is blessed with more.  

Grandson Caleb writes his letter to Santa asking him to pray every day.  He's seven.  He's blessed. He can teach us all something, can he not?

I read of a child whose cancer led to a liver transplant.  Her name is Gabbi.  Now, with complications following the transplant, our awesome God is being deluged with prayer requests to intervene, to provide the solution needed for this child, to grant this miracle so desperately wanted and needed...all the while acknowledging and accepting the supremacy of God and knowing His plan for all of us is far better than anything we could devise and trusting in His love and comfort.

This night of peace, reminding us of the birth of our Saviour, can be overcome with fear and anxiety when life intrudes, when the brightness of our lights dim with uncertainty and the inability to dictate the terms of our lives.

I cry with the beauty of my peace because I cannot share it with those who grieve or live with distress this night.  I can only offer my prayers to the one who can give the comfort and peace each soul craves.   

The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. ~ Psalm 18:2

Ornament of My Life

My Christmas tree is loaded with a variety of ornaments, some new and some old, some silly and some works of art.  It is a hodge-podge mixture that pleases me because it is familiar and comfortable.  Gazing at the ornaments brings memories, feelings...emotions.

Christmas can be the most joyful or most depressing holiday.  Joy can be riding high but brought low immediately by a change in circumstances - two grandchildren having RSV means that family will be absent for our family gathering!  - Reading a story or watching a video brings tears...but of happiness.  The mood that follows is influenced by the emotions cruising through the body and mind.  

Whatever emotion is prevalent today dictates the manner in which other people are addressed, listened to or tolerated.  Pain brings on its own set of emotions demanding tremendous effort to overcome.

Emotions rule...don't they?  If everything we think, touch or feel is affected by our emotions, the outcome is directly related to some particular need of my soul that very hour.  Perhaps the trick is to identify the emotional source and separate it from actual happenings in life. 

Emotions are likened to fuels.  Producing the right response to someone hurting or in need is appropriate and welcomed.  Emotional outbursts of indignation or temper suggest an unhealthy fixation on one's self and satisfying the constant urging of self-pleasure and self-interests...all to the exclusion of other people and things.  

Emotions can dim judgment, skew factual consideration and crowd out healthier thoughts.  Emotions should fuel our lives, not steer it!

The Christian is one who bases his whole confidence in God and His work of grace, then the emotions 

become the beautiful ornament of the life, not the source of it. ~ Oswald Chambers

Today, my tree of ornaments and hopefully, every facet of my life is ruled by the light of this world.  I can see, feel, touch, think nothing without God's influence because my confidence, my trust, my purpose lies with Him.  

Not all the ornaments on my tree represent growth or maturity.  But when I choose to look upon them through the grace of God, I see them differently and my emotion is always joy!

May Your Day Be Full of Thorns

With Thanksgiving Day coming up, I'd like to share a story with you.  Please pass it along to someone you know can benefit from the message.

Thanksgiving Roses

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks when she pulled open the florist shop door, against a November gust of wind.

Her life had been as sweet as a spring breeze and then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a "minor" automobile accident stole her joy. This was Thanksgiving week and the time she should have delivered their infant son. She grieved over their loss. Troubles had multiplied. Her husband's company "threatened" to transfer his job to a new location. Her sister had called to say that she could not come for her long awaited holiday visit. THEN! Sandra's friend suggested that Sandra's grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer.

"She has no idea what I'm feeling," thought Sandra with a shudder. "Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered. "For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life, but took her child's?"

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" Sandra was startled by the approach of the shop clerk.

"I....I need an arrangement," stammered Sandra. "For Thanksgiving? Do you want the beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the 'Thanksgiving Special'? I'm convinced that flowers tell stories," she continued. "Are you looking for something that conveys 'gratitude' this Thanksgiving?" "Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong." Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the clerk said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."

Then the bell on the door rang, and the clerk greeted the new customer, "Hi, Barbara...let me get your order."

She excused herself and walked back to a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and what appeared to be long-stemmed thorny roses. Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped: there were no flowers. "Do you want these in a box?" asked the clerk. Sandra watched for the customer's response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers? She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed. "Yes, please," Barbara replied with an appreciative smile. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn't be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again." She said, as she gently tapped her chest. Sandra stammered, "Ahh, that lady just left with, uh....she left with no flowers!" "That's right, said the clerk. "I cut off the flowers. That's the 'Special'. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet." "Oh, come on! You can't tell me someone is willing to pay for that!" exclaimed Sandra. "Barbara came into the shop three years ago, feeling much as you do, today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had just lost her father to cancer; the family business was failing; her son had gotten into drugs; and she was facing major surgery." "That same year I had lost my husband," continued the clerk. "For the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too much debt to allow any travel." "So what did you do?" asked Sandra.

"I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the clerk quietly. "I've always thanked God for the good things in my life and I NEVER questioned Him why those GOOD things happened to me, but when the bad stuff hit, I cried out, "WHY? WHY Me?!" It took time for me to learn that the dark times are important to our faith! I have always enjoyed the 'flowers' of my life but it took the thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort! You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."

Sandra sucked in her breath, as she thought about the thought that her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is, I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God." Just then someone else walked in the shop. "Hey, Phil!" the clerk greeted the balding, rotund man. "My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement...twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.

"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra incredulously. "Do you mind telling me why she wants a bouquet that looks like that?" "No...I'm glad you asked," Phil replied. "Four years ago, my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we trudged through problem after problem. The Lord rescued our marriage. Jenny, here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she had learned from "thorny" times. That was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific "problem" and give thanks for what that problem taught us.

As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!" "I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life." Sandra said to the clerk. "It's all too...fresh."

"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience has shown me that the thorns make the roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent the thorns." Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on her resentment. "I'll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out. "I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll have them ready in a minute."

"Thank you. What do I owe you?" "Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me." The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you would like to read it first."

The card read: My God, I have never thanked You for my thorns. I have thanked You a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant."

Praise Him for the roses, thank Him for the thorns.

Who, Me???

Caught off guard, the chastising was a shock to my system.  The shock lasting through my exit, the ride home brought forth feelings of being vilified, unfairly heard, and then unfortunately, resentment.  Sleepless that night, the myriad of emotions flowing through the following day ran the gamut. 

You see, I wanted the true object of their dissatisfaction to step up and take the blame, to rescue me from this perceived blemish on myself, to return to my deserved elevation! 

Enter the deceiver:  telling me to withdraw...after proclaiming my self-righteous denial to these leaders by a copiously written email perhaps...but to remove myself from duties that I have loved so much.  Spiteful, revengeful thoughts which I knew to be at the very time they appeared but unable to stop the flow.

Retreating to my Kindle and hoping to immerse myself in reading instead, I opened to this page:

"The sobering reality is that proud, unbroken Christians have done far more damage to the church of Jesus Christ than any sinners outside the church could inflict."

Pride?  Again?  Did I let myself fall to pride's prey again?  In my want to protect my own image (hardly a humble position,  right?), did I miss the very heart of the gospel and God's grace?  Was it coincidence that I was already reading a book on Brokenness, Surrender, Holiness?  I think not.  Thanking the Lord for remembering me, for knowing my needs before I did, the tears fell and His Spirit flooded my entire body.  

When you think you have learned it all, you are reminded of how little you know.  When you think you have mastered a fault, new situations may give rise to an old sin.  When you think you are invincible, invaluable and mighty, you are reminded of how much you need and depend on the Savior.  That is brokenness!

"As wax or clay must be soft and pliable in order to be molded by the artist's hands, so the broken, contrite heart is easily molded by the hand of God and does not harden itself against the circumstances God chooses to mold it."

And,

"Broken men and women have nothing to protect and nothing to lose." 

You see, a broken and contrite heart has no room for pride, bitterness, rebellion and  self-righteous indignation!  Proverbs, James and 1 Peter tell us that God resists the proud but pours grace on the humble.  

"Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you." (James 4:10)

I thank the Lord for His faithfulness in exposing my weaknesses, for His mercy and forgiveness when I fail, and for His promises to lift me up when I fall.  I thank Him for the leadership in the church, and I pray blessings on each one and his family.  I thank Him for reminding me when I am not being a blessing to my church family and when my self-worth comes before His truths.  I thank Him for His Spirit that has become a mirror for my soul, showing always the right path to take, the right spirit to maintain. 

Are you a proud or broken person?  Sometimes, it's hard to recognize.  I'd love to talk with you about it. Drop me a comment or email me directly at ann.annieevans@gmail.com.  And thanks for dropping by! 

From Dark to Light

Early Morning Riser is a term never applied to myself.  Loving the sound of it and appreciating it in others, the value itself has not held the allure for me to rise up and leave that comfy bed.  Memories of late mornings, especially Saturdays when the kids were elsewhere, are distant now.  Gone is the luxury of lazy stretching, contemplating, and the slow assent into mornings.

Lamenting my loss of leisure and berating Mr. Arthritis, the recent thorn in my flesh, a beautiful and treasured awareness has taken place over the past year.  The darkness that greets me outside this sunroom embraces me like a cocoon.   The house remains quiet with only the sound of Mother's pendulum clock breaking through my consciousness, and with that, too, receding rapidly.

Reaching for my laptop and catching up on the last night's events keep me occupied, along with that first cup of coffee, of course.  

Then it catches my attention...that first awakening of the tiniest bit of light.  Changing imperceptively, I realize God is slowly starting my day.  No birds yet pierce the air with their talk, no movement even in the cattle next door.  A peacefulness invades my world, and I am oh, so content! 

The earlier darkness had clothed me in assurance, but wasn't it because of my stable position indoors?  If the darkness has surrounded me in the middle of a field, wouldn't the effect be certainly one of unprotected, insecure and endangered?  Does the walled and windowed sunroom dispel the illusion of safety?  Because I desire to believe in the safety of my own home, I push away any thought of invasion of privacy or intrusion.

How easily one can believe and trust in one's feelings and justifications...to rely on self-worth, pride and self-indulgence.

Since the beginning, man has desired and pursued a god-like appearance, intelligence and power. Believing himself to be superior in intellect, too many have scoffed at any notion of a supreme being and savior of the world.  Belittling and scorning the "peasant" style faith, theories and hypothesis become their truths, likening themselves to the truly enlightened.

Sad that the efforts of these intelligent individuals were not directed at espousing the Bible truths, that the "light" in enlightened refers to the blazing love, truth, passion, and totally devoted savior of our entire world!  

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”                              John 8:12 (NIV)

The darkness in these early morning hours has become familiar to me now.  I am not afraid.  Not because I have come to trust the dark, but to embrace the light!  Thank you, Lord, for the blessings of each new day, for the increased awareness of your deity, your sovereignty, your sacrifice, your love and graciousness.  Thank you for my sight of your lightness and in my words and actions, may I always reflect your glory!

Faith in Decisions

It took me some time to appreciate the dark color…very trendy, more practical for sure.  The newness was the allure.  I like new.  It may be one of my greatest weaknesses…a new car.  I actually get restless every four years or so and begin noticing styles as I drive, my appetite growing.  And then the justification begins.

Need can be honest but also misunderstood.  What is luxury to one may be essential to another.   Yearning to be satisfied with need, but drawn by the want, the pros and cons begin listing.  Yes, I bought my last vehicle on want…sporty, fast, zippy, fun.   Never mind that the back seat exists but not functional for most adults.  Never mind that the trunk storage is cute but holds…well, not much!  Never mind that my husband cannot comfortably drive it, but then he has that big SUV, doesn’t he?

So, the hunt begins for a more practical, sharable vehicle for the two of us…another SUV.  And the perks of new electronics, more buttons and whistles call my name.  Spending endless time researching online, visiting and driving vehicles, talking and considering and driving and talking.  My husband supporting me in whatever I choose, my mind reeling from stats and reviews, I realize that my reluctance to make a decision may be coming from a different source.

The selfishness of want is astounding and certainly does not mesh with my spiritual growth.  It staggers me to realize how selfish I can still sometimes be, how quickly I attempt to take control of my life without consulting the only One who is in control!

With relief, I voiced my decision last night to not pursue a trade at this time.  My loving husband accepted it without question, ready to go or stay with whatever decision I made.  I need to take this moment, again, to thank the Lord for the many blessings in Terry…as my husband, as my friend, as a man who truly loves me as himself.

I began my morning not fretting over car reviews, prices and perks, and what a relief it was!  Actually happy that I could devote my day to our new church website, the load from my shoulders was real and refreshing.   Reading a devotional this morning, the reference to this verse spoke volumes:

...For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.   Romans 14:23 (ESV)  

Selfishness can be portrayed in many ways…in wants versus needs, in an unhealthy desire to be right, but it can never be active in faith.  My faith tells me when my desires are centered far away from the life God wants me to live.  His Spirit prompts me to remember who has called me and what His purpose is for me. 

The uncertainty of the wisdom in my quest, the concern of burdening us with another expense, the knowledge of past mistakes, wondering if the funds spent here would alter what benevolence we might do in the future…the fact of not even considering God’s will for my life…all these thoughts going round my head ended in a decision that sits well with me today.

Will that decision remain?  Will an exceptional deal be offered to us later on?  Will our needs change and call for another consideration?   Only God knows.  But if that situation arises, I am confident that my first thoughts will be what He wants for my life and not my own vain desires.

Too Proud Not to Tell

Intelligent, capable, self-assured, with a healthy dose of humor and humongus heart...these are the qualities that attracted me first.  Laughter has saturated our days and lightened my heart on many occasions.  A great teacher, always patient when I hard-headedly cling to my self-defeating purposes, he is my rock, my best friend.

Following his lead has taken me over roads I would not have traveled on my own, adventures better left to the adventurers!  He has brought me out of my shell, nourished and gently prodded me to take a risk and enjoy the ride.

But never have I loved him more than today, love the man he has become in God's church!  I watched and listened as he spoke kind, loving words to a grieving family, words of encouragement and hope of a completely trustworthy Lord, celebrating the life of a man he knew not well, but loving him and his family he spoke from his heart.

His faith encourages me.  His growth encourages me.  His teaching inspires me to greater knowledge of God's Word.  His love for me envelopes and protects, but it is his love of the Lord that fills my heart.  Thank you, Lord, for this husband, friend and lover of You!

Mess-upper!

"Failure" must come early in a child's life.  Learning to do so many things necessarily means failure occurs often, but the urge to succeed is great and failures become a part of life.  Normal.  Expected.  Accepted.

Then childhood is left behind and the young adult is expected to blossom and thrive...leaving failures in the past as the urge to excel, impress and surpass takes on a life of its own.  Failing ceases to be a learning experience, but something to hide, deny and cover up.  Shameful.

Disappointing my dad was conflicting as I struggled to maintain my independence...making mistake after mistake after mistake.  Admitting error to a parent at any age, knowing the heartache you brought them, is humilating at best.  But there is no eraser of life, no magic to make mistakes disappear, no time to rectify.

Mess-upper was a nickname I cared not for.  But heard enough, the image sticks, looming above my head at every turn.  As a mother raising her child with no experience, a wife trying to please her husband, as an employee striving for perfection, a friend trying to keep the peace...as a servant trying to please God, the fear of failing can immobilize oneself into believing any effort is thwarted before it's begun!

The fear of failure becomes part of your breath, tainting efforts as it resides in the recesses of your mind, drawing you away from new opportunities before they've begun.  How to justify my failures...how to lose this mess-upper stigma from the fragile skin of my soul? 

"Perhaps the hardest lesson we learn from failure is that we aren't as great as we thought we were." (Warren Wiersbe)   Ahhh, there it is!  Pride, and injured at that, can demolish the strongest of desires, the meekest of intentions, and  the sincere attitude of gratitude disintegrates.  The cloak of perfection slips and reality stands tall.

Peter was a failure.  He failed Christ at least three times.  He suffered the agony of his Lord predicting and witnessing his failure.

 And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.  (Luke 22:61-62 ESV)

Can you even imagine the horror and shamefulness that must have enveloped Peter as he watched the Lord being tortured and crucified within those next couple of days, the dispair he must have felt?  Yet Christ appeared to him after his resurrection, giving him the command to "feed his sheep."  He trusted him to spread His gospel and entrusted lives to Peter's undeniable love of Christ to prevail.  It became not about Peter but only about Christ.

Failures may still stalk my path, but somewhere the Lord is working them for good.  It is no longer about me being a mess-upper, it is Christ working in me to deny myself at all.  I am freed from failure.

"Failing is not a disgrace unless you make it the last chapter of your book." 
- Jack Hyles

Love in Absentia

First memory is your amazement that I would take candy, fruit or anything from kids passing by our gate if only I would recite Bible verses, name the apostles or books of the Bible.  Next is chastisement that I could ignore my little sister who waited patiently at the end of the block for me to get out of school.  Third was sadness but ultimate determination that my youngest sister would survive and flourish in spite of shaky beginnings.

Through rebellious teenage years, I mistakenly viewed you as old fashioned and somehow determined to ruin my joy.  Your wisdom eluded me then...and haunts me now.

Loving your children with an unquenchable thirst, I came to recognize the  determined, energetic wife and mother as one who would never desert, always encouraging and fiercely loyal.  The forever fresh memory moment of walking through your door with a young babe of my own, feeling for the first and only time of safety...turning my child over to you and sighing relief...resting completely in the ability and love of your arms. 

Did I ever tell you how grateful I was?  Did you ever know the calm and adoration you brought to my heart?

This Mother's Day, you will have been gone for 21 years, 3 months and 37 days.  You were 57...I was 41.  People often mistook us for sisters.  I miss you no less today than I did the day you were first gone.  But memories of you sustain me, and the promise I will see you again gives me hope.  Happy Mother's Day to one of the very best.  I love you, Mother!

Pesky Doubt

Praying in the morning, looking out over the green grass and fields dotted with flowers outside my windows...one of the best times of my day.  Thanking the Lord for His creation and wondering how magnificent heaven must be, longing to see it...longing to see Him...the vision brings me face to face with recounting my life...and I falter and tremble.  Words of praise begin to stutter and invading memories close up the throat and force tears. 

Doubt is a self-defeating, ingenious tool and evil uses it skillfully. 

How does one live with being forgiven?  How does one accept this ridiculously undeserving act of...well, grace?  How does one look into the face of the graceful one and not want to literally cut away the selfish, horrid, unfathomable acts of the past when you love the graceful one with every fiber of your being and can stand no more the mere thought of displeasing Him?  How does one rewrite life?

You cannot.  It's done. 

Prayer is interrupted by tears of sorrow, doubts of inferior makeup too tainted to be loved or fully forgiven.  How many times has doubt marred my moments and old fears consumed my body? 

Relinquishing my efforts in prayer and picking up the laptop instead, the first devotional email speaks of turning your mess into a message:

"God happens to be in the restoration business.  He is willing to restore and heal all who come to Him.  It doesn't matter who are you, what you've done, or what has been done to you.  God is willing and able to turn any tragedy into triumph..."

~Micca Campbell 

As I read, I am overcome with yet another message: 

The Healer of the broken
The friend to every sinner
Who knows the sorrow of each scar...

~Gwen & Sue Smith

You see, it is the scars that concern me.  How can I proclaim the goodness of Christ if my scars detract from the message?  The hardest part of living life is forgiving myself for what the Lord has already forgiven!

Another devotional message comes in:

"Recently I was thanking the Father for his mercy.  And I began listing the sins he’d forgiven.  “Remember the time I…” But I stopped.  Something was wrong.  It didn’t fit.  Does he remember?

Then I remembered.  I remembered his words in Hebrews 8:12: “And I will remember their sins no more.”  Wow!

God doesn’t just forgive, he forgets.  He erases the board.  He destroys the evidence. He burns the microfilm.  He clears the computer.  He doesn’t remember!"

~Max Lucado

Overcome with emotion, my tears are fresh with joy again!  It is always most humbling when I realize He hears my prayers!  BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY, you are never alone and His word is truth!  He will give you what you need, when you need it, and His timing is always exactly on time!  Because He loves and forgives, therefore, I will love and forgive, too.

My prayer for you and me this day and every day:

     “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul

 and with all your strength and with all your mind; and,

Love your neighbor as yourself."   Luke 20:27

Rebellion Quenched?

"Rebellion is a method teenagers use to help them pronounce their independence and individuality."  I could have written that.  But I didn't.  Instead I lived it...off and on for far too long!  As the oldest of three girls, rebellion against chores came first, followed by the relentless admonition of "You have to be an example, not a stumbling block."  Resentment can burst forth in the tamest of individuals.

More duties fell naturally to me...older, more responsible, more reliable...who secretly seethed with indignation of the unfairness of work load and less to no expectation of help from siblings.  Oh, the self-absorbed rantings of a teenager!

Instinctively independent, living life has been inundated with constant resistance to parental authority.  While encouraging for a child to reach their potential, independence can walk a thin line with rebellion.  It is difficult for a young person to judge correctly when the lines are blurred.

Leaving home at the earliest opportunity was supposed to open my world and let myself fly!  It did just that.  But the world is full of dreadful obstacles and my flying became dangerously unstable.  Still, my rebellious senses kept telling me flee towards a life I deserved...but who was I rebelling against now?  

Who knew that years of taking lead responsibility, caring for younger siblings and constantly stepping up to the plate, would bring me to yet more years of care giving, first for my mother and then years of care for a sister and my dad.  Those previous years of preparation, though unknown to me at the time, built up strength for when my family would really need me.  While I was secretly whining about my role and wanting my family to care for me, my Lord was giving me family to care for.  I must admit to thinking at the time that life was being just a bit unfair.  Selfishness comes naturally to me also.

Was I a perfect caregiver or sister?  Not by a long shot.  I have my share of regrets. Was it a life of my dreams?  Sadly, I never thought it lived up to my "expectations."  

But the beauty of older age is looking back at how your life has been played and see how God has worked his will.  I thought I was viewing troubles, trials, and obstacles to my existance.  But God corrected my vision, showing me how He was there with me all along, giving me strength, honing my patience and growing my maturity.  He KNEW I would be needed by my family and gave me the tools to do just that.

 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. - James 1:2-4

My short-sided vision could not show me the wisdom of the scripture above.  I thank the Lord, for allowing me to finally recognize that a life caring for others is the greatest calling I could have.  However, I fully expect a call from my sister shortly, and I also ask the Lord to remind me of this again, as I wait eagerly for my maturity!

Who New

Early spring.  Grass shoots up greener, trees begin to expand with buds, yellow daffodils emerge til heads are full blown, and new calves kick their heels and run with abandonment in the fields next door.  Birds sing louder and the urge to bask in sunshine is strong.  My part of earth is waking with newness and joy.  The blissfulness of living with seasons, ever changing, giving new sights and sounds as each day is a new day.  Thank you, Lord, for a new day!

New is invigorating.  New is intoxicating.  New is joyful and full of promise.  New is what we want to share with others, relishing their delight in our good fortune.  

New is what the Lord gives me every hour...a newness in soulful anticipation of purpose and belonging...new is God's grace!  For the grace of God is righteous and He gives freely...even to me, the worst of sinners.  Each moment spent reflecting on repentance and forgiveness points time and again to His grace.   God's grace is love.


Time cannot be regained; opportunities missed cannot be duplicated.  But each moment forward is new and hope is reborn...grace reigns.   

But if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace.  (Romans 11:6)

Every Single One

The world's population is now over seven billion people.  Living in a rural setting, that number is alien to me, unfathomable.  Surely the earth cannot hold us all, as huge as it is.  Put yourself in the middle of seven billion people...how can you be distinguished from the masses, the broiling, teeming swirl of humanity that is constantly moving and growing?   How can you matter?

in·fin·i·tes·i·mal:  An immeasurably or incalculably minute amount or quantity.

There are 10 times more stars in the night sky than grains of sand in the world's deserts and beaches, according to scientists.  Astronomers estimated there are 70 thousand million million million - or seven followed by 22 zeros - stars visible from the Earth through telescopes.

Sort of makes the world's population seem small, doesn't it?

But doesn't it also start to put some things into perspective?

We think we have put God into a certain place.  Our mind pictures a throne of majesty and grandeur, yes.  Somewhere between earth and heaven, wherever that is.  We picture our galaxy, and then the mind wavers and recedes.  The vastness of outer space is mind boggling and fearful.  We try to accept the unimaginable distances and time and unknown and our hearts begin to pound.   Who is this God who can create and manage such wonders?  And who am I that He would create and plan a life for...me, this infinitesimal dot on the universes?



If I have not expressed jubilent thanks to my Lord for my life and the hope He gives me...every moment of my waking...then I am remiss, uncaring and traitorous.  For my God, who is the Creator of all things, is faithful and one day will tell me...this infinitesimal dot...the secrets of His creations and I will know and enjoy the wonderful things he has planned for me in heaven.  I love you, Lord, and I will not miss out on your promises!

Time Spent Well

It was beautifully penciled and colored, giving a very cool picture of what could be.  Visions of a well designed, colorful landscape was enticing...equal to the promise of spring on a bright, sunny day.  It would be enjoyable, pleasing to the eye, an example of what can be surveyed in God's creations.  It would also be expensive.  Biting the bullet, I signed my name.

Euphoria was short lived.  By nightfall, doubts were taking over and the urge to call and cancel was deep.  Could we afford it?  Could the money be better spend elsewhere?  Was it a smart decision?  How long would we enjoy it?  How long...?  There it was, the underlying crux I was battling without knowing. 

Seasons change and the years speed up that process, I'm sure of it.  Life takes on a cruising speed of its own, and you find yourself amazed when looking back...amazed and sometimes disappointed.  Joseph Cook, editor and writer, once summarized man's earthly life this way: "Man's life means tender teens, teachable twenties, tireless thirties, fiery forties, forceful fifties, serious sixties, sacred seventies, aching eighties, shortening breath, dead, the sod, then God."

As for man, his days are like grass; As a flower of the field, so he flourishes. For the wind passes over it, and it is gone, And its place remembers it no more. - Psalm 103:15

Statistically, 15 to 22 remaining years is projected for me, baring any life ending diseases.  My head is still reeling!   So, too, is my husband's because I felt the need to inform him of this...his more because he is astounded I would even look this up!    My astonishment is more tuned into the age old questions of "Where did the time go?" and "What do I have to show for my life?" and "What do I need to hurry up and get accomplished before my memory is mush?" and more importantly, "Have I lived my life for Christ or myself?"

Jesus teaches us to seek first the kingdom of God, and also “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."  (Matthew 6:34).  Bottom line, the present time is the perfect time, the only time, to follow and serve God.

Missed opportunities cannot be recreated and time gone by is not retrievable.  We cannot worry about what we have done with our lives, because today, this moment, begins anew.  However many moments are left are full of promise, and all we have to do is seek Him.

So, no more worries about something as trivial as landscaping.   I have better things to do with my time.

Scheduling God

It caught my eye as I was browsing...What would happen if we looked at our schedules as acts of worship?        

What, my schedule?  Worship?  We had just gone through a series of lessons on worship at church, and I was pretty sure this one wasn't mentioned.  I almost passed it by.  But curiosity got the better of this ole cat and I read on.

What constitutes worship has been on my mind for some time now...years really.  Is everything I do worship?  Is there such a thing as simply living my life without it necessarily being worship?

“Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering’” (Rom. 12:1, MSG).

Living a life is not worship...unless I make it so!  I can either reflect the glory of God and show the presence of Jesus in my life, or I can reflect the opposite.  Every day is a choice; every moment is a choice...whether I build up or tear down; whether I encourage or criticize; whether I forgive or not forgive; whether I give mercy or pronounce judgment; whether I share my faith or remain silent. 

Dusting can become meditative moments...vacuuming can provide times of prayerful thoughts...errands can be opportunities for reaching out...work can be filled with joyful attitude and calming spirit...travel time can be spent in appreciation and thankfulness for God created views of beauty and nature.

Schedules change from day to day...no two days are exactly the same.  As a child of God, we should remain constant, always looking to God in every instance of our schedules, allowing His nature to influence us in word and deed.  Then our everyday, ordinary life will be extraordinary and a fitting offering for the One who made us!    

Time Changes

Time as a noun is defined as the measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues...i.e., duration.  As in, non-sleep.  Which is where I am at present.  After a particularly busy day, certainly tired enough to drop off into oblivion, how can time stand still with eyes glued to the ceiling?  How does the brain miss the timely signs of nightly rest when the remainder of this body knows full well the needed comfort of bed and sleep?

Instead, knowledge of a friend facing cancer surgery fills the mind and urgent prayers are lifted on his behalf...which brings to mind others facing surgery or treatment...more prayers offered.  The domino effect is raging now, and the mind races with urgent needs of friends, family, and friends of friends. 

So up out of the bed I go to precious time in the middle of the night, with only the ticking of a clock to match the clicking of the keyboard, to match the beating of a heart filled with love and hope for lives physically suffering and others grieving for lost loved ones.

Time stops for no one...except the Lord.  Joshua 10:13:
And the sun stood still, and the moon stayed, until the people had avenged themselves upon their enemies. Is not this written in the book of Jasher? So the sun stood still in the midst of heaven, and hasted not to go down about a whole day.

So the dying continues, diseases ravage bodies, hearts and promises are broken.  But then births continue also, allowing laughter and joy to ring through our days, as love and hope tower above all else.  How comforting to know that what we experience, what we fear, what loss we bear has been foretold in words we can understand...

Ecclesiates 3:

     1 For there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

     2 a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time
        to pluck up what is planted;
     3 a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
     4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
     5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
        a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
     6 a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
     7 a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
     8 a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.

We have been given time on earth and not all that time is pleasant.  Our God knew of life trials we would face and has numbered our days.  I choose this new day to remember our Creator, to live my life fully with meaning and purpose.  I choose to value my time with heart-felt prayer and thankfulness.  I choose time with God.