My bed became a living thing, enveloping me into its cozyness, fitting like a glove. Quite a change from the dorm room sleeping thingy, with poster board taped to the window, obliterating the security lights outside.
My carpeted floor was soothing to tired, swollen feet, and I delighted in the feel and texture.
The trip home had overflowed with thoughts of love, of friendship, of laughter, of the sheer joy of being with God's people. My heart was filled up with God's spirit, rejuvenated with the passion and wisdom that only comes from His Word. Thank you, Lord, for these servants of yours who take time to share with us, to teach us, these servants who care for others' souls.
Because soul loss is real, reaching from distant corners and steadily eroding the vitality and joy coming from the God knowledge, the God love. Life is so busy, we are hardly aware of the change...the going away. But we heed the call of God's Spirit, and we look for opportunities to revive our hearts, our souls.
Remedies abound in the community of believers, and we learn to grasp at the touch, sound and intimacy of love flowing from our Christian brothers and sisters.
So we schedule, we prepare, and we anticipate the gatherings. We gather in the spirit of oneness, with devoted intent and concentration on things that are not of this world. And we are blessed, we learn, we mature, and we take with us what we can pass on to others. We worship, we sing with abandon and envision the beauty of a singing heaven. And it is well with my soul.
After 40 plus years, the last meeting of Christian Training Series at Freed Hardeman University is over, the event not to be held again. But the benefits will endure because the love upon what it was established is our God's love. The friendships will remain, the memories special, and the lessons we've heard will be shared again and again.
I am grateful that God's people care enough to nourish others, to spend their time and effort to help grow our souls into the likeness of Christ. I am especially thankful to Sam and Phyllis Hester for loving us, working for us, loving God and his church.
"How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" (Romans 10:14-15)
It's sometimes the smallest gesture, the fewest of words, the tiniest intent that floods the heart, swells the joy and burst in thanksgiving! It is a renewed awareness of the power of prayer. Old story for some, but the constant swirl, the continuing chaos of our lives, the uncontrollable actions of others can plummet the zeal and existence becomes tiresome and weary.
And we pray. And we plead. And we cry. Until our hearts are empty of words but full of grief, we pray our troubles out and lay them at His feet.
43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48 You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48)
You see, It is a terrible situation, full of stress, uncertainty and depression. Fighting it daily, losing it daily, with nowhere to turn for relief. This world just cannot provide it, cannot sustain us, cannot grow us forward into the image God wants us to be.
Believing can, doing can, trusting can.
And so we pray. And we earnestly tune our hearts into the love that God has for all his children, and we pray honestly and simply that our enemies be blessed. We pray their hearts be right with God, that they can have compassion for the one they are treating harshly, and most of all, that their souls be complete with the love, grace and mercy that our Creator extends to us all.
And a new day begins, with kind instruction, a softened attitude. And a new day ends, with a hug and words that say, Good Job! Small things, tiny steps, but nourishing the soul, lightening our steps, and strengthening us to strive for better days still.
Lord, you are our comfort, our stay in trouble. You are our refuge and all hope is found in you alone. Let your words be forever our guide, for they are true and ageless. Let us walk in your light, loving our enemies because they, too, belong to you! To God be the glory!
Have you ever looked joy right in the face? Or do you recognize it where you are the most uncomfortable, the most reserved, in the most tentative, unsure moments of your life? Do you look for joy?
Freedom is exhilarating, catching you unaware, and the joy creeps up from the bottom, until you are stretching your arms open wide and the heart is stretched to its limits, and you honestly don't know whether to laugh or to cry! It is at that point that the joy overflows and gratefulness is at the full, and you LOVE!
We women...we toil, we lament, we worry, we scheme, we crave and we cave. And when the pressures mount to levels we cannot even envision, we find our spiritual selves have a life of their own and maneuver our steps toward peace, bonding, rising to the surface in order to breathe...with those we trust, love and know in our heart of hearts that we are one, we are kin, we are sisters.
To my sisters, your heart is safe with me, your dreams are cherished, your wounds are covered in prayer...your souls are beautifully adorned in God's grace, and I love you beyond measure.
The good Lord knew we would have troubles and knew we needed family. He gave me you!
The Japanese have a term, kenzoku, which translated literally means “family.” The connotation suggests a bond between people who have made a similar commitment and who possibly therefore share a similar destiny. It implies the presence of the deepest connection of friendship, of lives lived as comrades from the distant past.
I like that. Not necessarily blood connection, but a connection of heart. Yes, I like that.
Not everyone is kenzoku. Sometimes the most improbable is the most likely. Strands of life stretching invisibly, touching and making their impression whether good or bad...family.
Kenzoku is cherished, given value though the time meted to physical connection is minimal. Reunited, kenzoku revives with a flourish, as if time stood still. Family. Friend.
Loss of kenzoku is startling, with a sharp intake of breath and tearing of the eyes and the grieving is physical. Memories surface and you grab, afraid they will go amiss and you will lose again. The urge for another opportunity to hug, smile, appreciate...simply existing with love, peace and familiarity with this piece of kenzoku, this family...is overwhelming and the tears flow with abandon.
To you, Tom, kenzoku, with your open, caring heart you have reached out, touched and affected so many. You sought, heard and accepted God's call and responded with generosity and zeal. You encouraged with example, questioned with genuine desire to learn, and graced us with your life complete. You are loved, respected, missed and grieved, but you lessened our misery by following your heart...loving our Gaynell and loving the Lord.
Inadequate words, these, but I think you understand. Kenzoku...always!
Reading a self-penned obituary only cemented the urge to say good-bye on cloud paper. The thought keeps drifting in and out, and just in case the Lord is giving me a nudge, it's certainly not to be ignored.
If I have only today, what is most important to me to convey to you, my husband, my children, grandchildren, extended family and friends?
Terry...my husband, my friend, my love. You have stood by me in tough times, with enough patience to carry the world, with a heart big enough to hold the oceans, yet with humor and loving kindness. You have loved my child and supported her as your own. You have made grandparenting a joy as we love these children unconditionally and with much gratitude. But it is when I see and hear you teaching God's Word that I am most grateful. For your strongness in Him is encouragement to me, and I am fortified by the knowledge that your love for Him is greater than your love for me. And your love for me has been epic!
Missy, with all memories cherished, I find myself longing for every single day since you were born that I might live again the joy of birthing, raising and loving every nuisance of your life. I fear what I have forgotten may have been the most memorable. Your maturing into motherhood yourself has been the greatest joy. Smiles emerge every time I think of your gardening, your surprising ability with flowers and plants, your secureness in who you are. I thank you for the gift of two grandsons. I thank you, I thank you, and I love you much!
Jon, you who were born with your dad's heart and so much of his personality, you have had my heart from day one. You are a rock and so easy to love! I have watched you take some hard punches, but your loving heart stays fast. God gave you that loving attitude, Jon, and it is to be cherished and protected. I pray for a mate for you who values it just as much. Thank you for loving me, Jon!
Mark, you may be my biggest surprise. Having the ability from early on to get under my skin, I have watched you grow and mature into this stunningly devoted father of four...and that is the greatest blessing you could ever have given me! I love that you are stepping into the shoes of your dad, following a career that I am sure with your determination, you will even surpass.
To my beautiful grandchildren, you are sunshine to my soul! Being with you brings so much happiness to my life, it is impossible to explain the true measurement of my love for you! I want all of you to have a good life, full of respect for your parents, love for mankind, love and kindness for animals, but most of all, a heart fully devoted to God.
To my sister, Beverly. I hope for you peace, peace and more peace. For happiness is fleeting, riches dwindle, but peace in your body and soul untangles the mind and levels the wave lengths of life, leaving you with joy and pure contentment. Ask for it, accept it, and then give thanks, because the only real peace comes from the Father.
And that is my wish and prayer for all of you, my family and my friends. Each day not devoted to God's will, magnifies to ten-fold as you grow older...because of regret. You cannot change the past or have a do-over...make it count now. Love Him, live for Him and serve only Him.
I am not afraid to die should my time be soon, even though it is a sad thought to be leaving any of you. But I have faith in Christ and there is where I put all my hope. I know without a doubt there is a better life after death, and I go willingly because I want to see the Lord! My purpose and your purpose is to glorify God! (1 Cor. 6:19-20) Keep Christ as center of your lives, and everything else will revolve for good around Him! Everything else is futile.
I will always love you and pray the best for your lives...physically but more so, spiritually. If I only had three words to impart to you today, it would be "Love the Lord!" And if I go before you, I'll wait for you there!
It's been a long wait. Endless hours of watching, waiting for the right time, the right opportunity. It will be a mess, but somebody has to clean up, pick up the pieces that remain.
Never mind the mess, the loss, the residuals, the least important of the least significant. It is the end result, the nourishment for the faithful, the survival of the fittest. Not to mourn what has reached its end, but to satisfy the moment...this cycle of life goes on without bereavement, without consolation?
Nothing but the bellowing call of a young one to its dying mother, the inevitable last breath before the vultures come in to devour. No medicinal shots can cure, no one thing to take the blame...just life's cycle in an ever changing world. And the buzzards pick up the pieces.
Sometimes, I just want to stop the world for a second, say hang on to your axle and take notice of what is happening.
Coming of age means more than aches and pains. It brings an unreal acceleration of life events, an uncanny view of history repeating itself, and sometimes the speed is too much, too fast, the changes too many, and the horror too real. Who will pick up the pieces?
Our children. Our grandchildren.
Whether we support current government or not, laws are rapidly being changed to reflect the latest trend of thinking...whether we like, agree or disdain. Our free thinking and inflated egos are creating new attitudes, new environments to shape our learning and thinking.
What may seem to be expedient, even worthy, to the populace at large today may bring greater anxieties and obstacles to overcome for the younger generation. My mind is filled with concern, but the remembrance of one verse stands out:
“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.” Psa. 46:10
To be still is to let go, to surrender to God, knowing He is always in control. Jeremiah 17 in The Message:
"God, pick up the pieces. Put me back together again. You are my praise!"
Our grandchildren will be picking up our pieces on this earth, but the Lord God will be the ultimate judge and healer of our bad judgments. The last word, the last action, the ultimate ending of this life's cycle will be the Lord's!
Pray for our country, pray for our children, pray for strength in the hour of adversity, uncertainty, and persecution...for it is now.
You feel safe when someone you trust is in control. You feel loved when you are allowed to blossom and grow. You feel nourished when fed daily, stretching and growing in the radiant glow of light.
I fear plants do not look upon me with trust and, indeed, wish for legs to scamper away!
My one remaining house plant is loyal, though, and has survived many injustices in its lifetime. I am ashamed.
Moving it into the dining room, placing it just so next to the windows, there was perhaps a faint sigh of relief...or more than likely the rustle of a dry leaf as it was placed on the table! The change of position has been beneficial as its branches have seemed to reach through the window toward the sky.
It is the light, you see...
Like the undersea current flowing strongly from the shore taking with it all in its path, so the light draws upward as hands raised in worship. This straggly little plant, bravely enduring my negligence, now transcends any deficiency I caused and expands joyfully and fully. Beautiful rays of sunshine lavishing freely through glass.
Flooding this plant with water could never quench its thirst for light, and as God designed, Old Scrag here knew where to find it.
I now look at this plant and instantly think of our Creator, never doubting the light He furnishes for my heart. It is His light that keeps the joy in my day, in spite of any adversity or heartache...heartache for sick children, untimely deaths, and yes, animal cruelty. His light transcends all sadness, no matter the source, and without it, my world would be doomed.
None other can fill my heart nor give me the water for which I thirst. I praise His name, and I give thanks that God is ultimately in control of my life, my world, and yours.
