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

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

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.