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!