Make Me a Servant

It never ceases to amaze me...He always knows what I need when I need it.  He prods my heart and kindles a desire in me that must be fulfilled.

Devotionals arrive in my emails, harmoniously echoing a thought heavy on my mind.  A sermon is given, prompting deeper meaning, and the desire fairly bursts from me!

A song new to me is sung in worship, further solidifying the need...

Make me a servant
Humble and meek
Lord let me lift up those who are weak
And may the prayers of my heart always be
Make me a servant
Make me a servant
Make me a servant today

And may the prayers of my heart always be
Make me a servant
Make me a servant
Make me a servant today

As the Lord knows I want to serve him more, I must be alert to the opportunities He puts before me.  I must be better prepared...

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, - (1 Peter 3:15)

A missionary from the 1800's or so made this quote:  "Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell." ~C.T. Studd

Wanting to live your life fully, according to the will of God, recognizing a need and stepping up to the plate...what am I doing today to fulfill and honor what I know the Lord wants of my life?  What are you?

Deflection

"Connie, deflection? That makes me think of ...well, not what I want."

That was my first impression. Deflecting is inbred, is it not? I mean, if it comes naturally...

Deflection to me means batting away, diverting attention...I don't know...swerving maybe. I've been good at that ALL MY LIFE. Too tall, too skinny (okay, I can hear the laughing), too shy. Anything to keep the attention away. That's a little hard to do when you are "the preacher's kid" and new in a new town, a new school. To survive you must deflect. You must cover up the defects, the insecurities, the little-less-than-average feeling which creeps into your bones. No history to stand on here (too many moves), no old friends since childhood to lean on. All eyes on you and nowhere to go. Deflection was essential...it let me breathe.

So I learned to deflect early. Consistently. Shamefully. Interminably. Always wondering if people could see through me...or had I practiced this so long that I believed my deflective self. Calm on the outside, jelly within. Competent on the outside, utter failure on the inside. Smiling on the outside, tears within.

There is a secret to be divulged here...this condition of living makes for a very short life.

Some times our past is like an anchor- holding us back- we have to let go

of who we were to become who we will be.

Which started my questioning Connie's comment of  "in psych terms its called deflection:"   See, I attached my own past with deflection and it didn't taste good in my mouth.  I wanted to erase the taste but it was sticking like peanut butter.  I had moved on, hadn't I?  I was past the pretending, the conforming, desiring to please, the yearning to be accepted, to just be liked.  Wasn't I?

Yes!  But the real concept I was having trouble with was forgiveness.  Not of others, no, that gets easier every day.  But forgiving myself?  Truly letting my past sins go?  Not denying them, which is merely a delusion: flimsy, fake, and shallow...more like my idea of deflecting.  But forgiveness is real: robust and solid and deep.  It is not an avoiding of the truth, but a dealing with it squarely, however painful.

Isa 43:25 (NIV) "I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more."

Every past has sin, sin to be dealt with, squarely and fully, with godly sorrow, confessed and repented.  I thank the Lord for His forgiveness and if He can deal with my sins and remember them no more, I can do no less.

Sacrifice or Reward?

I am a selfish woman, somewhat lazy and wasteful with my time.  I constantly must ask forgiveness for self-centered thoughts and words.  I would rather be reading a good book than finishing chores.  I would rather ride than walk, sit than stand, float than swim...you get the picture.

Having been gone for a week, there is a car to unload, suitcases to unpack, and stuff to return to its rightful place.  Yet, I sit here reminising and recalling words from this past week that made such an impression on me.  Snippits of lectures and conversation drift through my head, taken from people who have dedicated themselves to learning and the ability to enrich others with the Word.

Attending the Christian Training Series at Freed Hardeman University is a precious week for me.  Being able to serve others by working in it may be the sacrifice, but the reward far surpasses any effort put forth on my part.  I am in awe of the number of talents displayed at CTS, how so many speakers can inspire me to better thoughts, actions and endurance, leaving me with a desire to learn more of spiritual things, learning to serve in better ways, learning to share the love of God to everyone I come in contact with.

I watched a couple work tirelessly for the success of CTS, living on little sleep but always with a smile on their faces.  I thank God for Sam and Phyllis Hester.

I watched other staff helping, serving, working on behalf of others.  I thank God for their tireless devotion and loving spirits.

I watched as a sister in Christ spoke of her loving dad, dying of cancer, who would not let her stay home to help him but urged her to attend the series he loved, knowing her spirit would be renewed and knowing his spirit faced a safe haven with the Lord.  I thank God for Mary Ann, her family, her dad Sammy.

I watched and heard voices raised to God in song day after day, blending in harmony so pleasant and encouraging to the ears.  I thank God for the ability to praise Him in song.

We all have a choice.  We make them every day.  We choose where we want to go, what we do, what we say.  You can choose to spend your time and efforts in entertainment, comfort and vanity.  Or you can choose to immerse yourself in the atmosphere of love, praise, the Word, the blessings that abundantly abound from the fellowship of your Christian brothers and sisters. 

I thank God for CTS, Christian Training Series at Freed Hardeman.  You should, too.

Radical Pruning



Tree before storm

 The last storm took one half of a tree down in our yard.  It wasn't the prettiest of trees nor the most healthy or obviously, the strongest.  But it was very pleasant to focus on from my window and had a limb low enough to hang a bird feeder on.  Planted to one side of the pool, it lost enough leaves to be a menace to the pool cleaning chores, yet the odd shape was appealing to the eye.  My eye anyway.

My husband cut up the downed half tree and remaining half, but the stumps wouldn't bulge.  I found another tree limb suitable to hang the feeder located in another part of the yard.  The stumps look desolate and sad and the backyard misses the shade.  The birds miss it more.  They keep flying around the stumps as if not quite believing their shelter and food source is really gone.  It's as though, if they go one more time, things will be different and they will be fed as always, finding a limb to rest on inbetween feasting on the swinging lunch bar. As it is, they sing out in high pitched cries of disappointment and frustration.

Sometimes I am that bird.  I go to God's Word every morning and I feed and feel nourished and comforted.  Then that morning comes when I read and my world is rocked and I find myself tetering on the brink of something fearsome.  Have I ever read this message before?  Why did I not understand it as it seems to be taking my very breath now?

Sometimes I think...I know...that God is pruning me, cutting away the parts of me that hinder my growth, my relationship with Him...and while I am thankful for His care, this pruning, this cutting away can be painful.  Sometimes I can hardly hold up, I am so weary.  But my heart knows that He is always there, opening other doors, keeping me hungry for new opportunities to serve Him.  He is always there and will give me what I need.  I am blessed to be pruned.

John 15:5-6 "I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me, and I in him, he bears much fruit; for apart from Me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch, and dries up; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned."

Our tree needed a serious, radical pruning.  It came at a cost.  But as persistent as these birds be in flitting back and forth to the unsightly stumps, I am confident they will find their familiar feeder, equipped with nourishment, and all they need do is fly in a different direction.

Flutters

Love.  Confidence.  Contentment.  Joy.  Then...flutters.

A clear, sunny day can suddenly turn to black, ominous clouds and blustery winds.  Loving, harmonious marriages destroyed by a weak moment.  Healthy, active bodies brought low by a silent killer disease.

If we could see our futures, would we...could we...sustain happiness for any length of time?  Maintain hope?  Persevere even when the time table is speeding toward our end?  Would we be okay with it?

The question posed to us by Brian Basham last Sunday night rings in my ears.  If a "bad" thing happened to me or my loved ones, would I be okay with it?  With God?   Would I blame Him or would I praise Him?  How easy for me when my prayers are answered in my favor.  How easy for me when the cost is not completely debilitating but yet allowing me to bounce back. 

Vowing to forever honor and praise the Lord, in good times and in bad, there suddenly comes little ...flutters.  The heart skips a beat and the breath is caught, and a prayer is uttered as my hand flies to my chest.  I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.







 

Overwhelmed

I am overwhelmed.  My blessings abound and I am thankful.  How much more can I continue to receive, enjoy and hold when there are others hurting, worried and lost.  

Losing my mother when she was only 57, losing my middle sister when she was 56, and six months later losing my dad when he was 84.  The big "C" word invaded our lives with Mother's illness and it seemed downhill after that.  My sister, Cathy, fought a pituitary tumor for 10 years and my dad fought lung cancer for 1 + years.  Where is my debilitating, life-ending disease?

My friend, Sammy Carroll, has been and is fighting for his life, and his sweet wife, Faye, hangs in the balance.  

My Alabama relatives continue to recover from a devastating tornado, losing material things but thankfully, not their lives.  Hundreds more lost it all.

There are hundreds more going to bed tonight on a dirt floor or maybe concrete sidewalk.  There are children starving in third world countries who cannot seem to advance past their greedy governments.  There are marriages riding a roller coaster of abuse/love/hate/dependency. 

So much unfairness, so much hurt, hunger and hate. 

Yet, I, one who is most undeserving, feel the blessings of her children and grandchildren, a faithful and caring husband, see the pleasing view of God's nature in abundance, know the hope and trust of her saviour and redeemer, and wonder...as blessed as I am...am I fulfilling my God's plan for my life...am I reaching out for those who are lost, hungering and thirsting for a better life...am I growing and changing into Christ's likeness?

 "Come now, you who say, Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit; whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away. Instead you ought to say, If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that." (James 4:13-15)

Dear Father, help me to appreciate my life, but don't let me grow comfortable lest I miss an opportunity to help someone see your faithfulness, your love and your abundant blessings...and your promises.  In the name of Jesus.

The Weaver

I prefer days with blue skies and warm temperatures, with maybe a few light cumulus clouds drifting through.  I prefer tranquil days and peaceful nights of blissful sleep with no dreams.  I prefer no turmoil, no problems, no dissent, no stress, no forgotten chores.  I prefer people who do right. 

However, I live in a different time, a different family, a different world.  And in spite of all my clinging to a smoothly carved path, someone's roller coaster comes along and scoops me up to heights I'd rather not experience, to lows I can hardly bear.  Sometimes I find the roller coaster has my own name written on it...and I didn't even know I started it rolling.

A poem was read to us at a worship service called "The Weaver" by Benjamin Malacia Franklin. 

My life is just a weaving
Between my Lord and me.
I cannot change the color
For He works most steadily.

Oft times He weaves the sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.

Until the loom is silent
And the shuttle cease to fly,
Will God roll back the canvas
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the skillful  Weaver's Hand
As the golden threads of silver
He has patterned in His Plan.

It is not easy to be thankful or even understand hard times, but it serves a purpose.  I ask God to refine me, knowing from experience that this request may be answered in ways difficult to handle and by methods I might wish not to encounter.  But that is the point, isn't it?  That my faith be stronger, that I grow in dependence on the grace of our Lord, and that I surrrender each and every concern to the One who knows me best.

While my heart aches for those facing trials, both real and imagined, my prayers have become my constant thought process, increasing my love for those in need and praying they turn to the only one who can truly comfort...knowing that one day we will fully understand the dark threads and how they shaped our lives.