Churchgirl's Meanderings

THE HANDKERCHIEF: AN ESSENTIAL TOOL OF MOTHERHOOD

2010-05-10T06:48:00.000-07:00

Practical Uses For Mom’s Handkerchief
-Shooing a Fly (Or a child that is underfoot)
-As a Dust Rag (Useful when company arrives unexpectedly)
-Cleaning a Spill (Usually a grandmother, keeping a child from getting in trouble.)
-Opening or Closing Restroom Doors (Preceded by, “Don’t touch that!”)
-Unscrewing Jar Lid (Mom acquires superhero strength.)
-A Sachet Strategically Placed (Children love to smell where Mom has been.)
-Baby Pacifier (Filled with a bit of sugar and tied for sucking)

Things Kids Hate Mom’s Handkerchief For
-Blowing and Wiping a Child’s Nose (The child must blow until there is evidence.)
-Catching a Sneeze (Aww, Mom, it was gonna be a good one!)
-Drying a Child’s Hands (Before they wipe them on their clothes)
-Cleaning a Face (Accompanied by Mom’s spit)
-As a Napkin to Protect Shirt (How embarrassing!)
-Shining Church Shoes (Is that mud or something else?)

Things Kids Love Mom’s Handkerchief For
-Disposing of Unchewable Bites of Food (Preteens are even thankful for this)
-Presenting a Hidden Cookie (Usually by a grandmother)
-Squashing and/or Removing Offending Insect (Especially awe-inspiring to a toddler)

Things Kids Might Use Mom’s Handkerchief For
-Impromptu Puppet (Children of all ages know how the make these.)
-Parachute (Especially great with a bit of string and a plastic army man.)
-To Run Away From Home (Used to tie a biscuit or cookie up for the road. This child is often home before Mom realizes he/she has run away.)

The Handkerchief Is Symbolic of a Mother’s Love
-Giving a Pat on the Back (“Good job!” or “You can do this.”)
-Mopping a Feverish Forehead (It’s going to be all right. Momma’s here.”)
-Wiping a Tear From an Eye (“I understand.”)
-Having a Good Cry (In my naivety, I thought raising kids would get easier.)
-Prayer Cloth (Anointed and tucked under a mattress or sent through the mail)
-Praise/Wave Offering/Surrendering

(Father, I thank you for these children that I am not worthy of. They are so much more than I was at their age. They are so incredible, beautiful, gifted and anointed.

I’m not asking that they fill some great position in men’s eyes. I’m not even asking that they fill some great position in the Church. But, Father, I do ask that each one will be useful to the Kingdom, for your glory and that, most of all, they will be saved. I pray that you wouldn’t have to deal tragically with any of them, but Lord, whatever it takes, don’t let them be lost. I pray that they would always be sensitive to the moving of your Spirit and alert to the sound of your voice.

I praise you for giving them to me for this short season. I know that I’ve made serious mistakes in raising them and ask that you fix all that I’ve messed up. Work in their lives in spite of me, Lord. I hold them up before your throne and I surrender my will for their lives to you. I plead the Blood of Jesus over them for protection, direction and inspiration. Keep them in your mighty hand all the days of their lives. In Jesus’ name.)

THE FRAGRANCE THAT GOD LONGS FOR

2010-03-16T10:38:00.000-07:00

When the Children of Israel were wandering in the wilderness for forty years, they had a portable church, the Tabernacle. God gave Moses very specific plans for this mobile worship center including its dimensions, building materials, conduct of ceremonies and even furniture.

One piece of furniture was the Altar of Incense. The High Priest (Aaron, Moses' brother, being the first) went into the Holy Place at least twice a day, morning and evening, to offer incense on this altar. The Lord took note of this fragrant offering and was pleased.

"And Aaron shall burn thereon sweet incense every morning: when he dresseth the lamps, he shall burn incense upon it. And when Aaron lighteth the lamps at even, he shall burn incense upon it, a perpetual incense before the Lord throughout your generations." (Exodus 30:7-8)

The offering of incense was symbolic of the prayers that we should offer up to God on a daily basis. He waits to hear from us. He longs to hear from us.

1 Timothy 5:17 instructs us to "Pray without ceasing". We should always be in an attitude of prayer, ready to call upon God at any time, in any situation. This is the mindset and lifestyle of a true Christian.

At a minimum, we should begin and end our day at the Altar of Incense. He is longing to smell the sweet fragrance of our prayers.

A COLLECTION OF MOMENTS

2009-12-15T04:51:00.000-08:00

A few days ago a lady came into the cleaners. Her husband had passed away the night before and could we clean his clothes in two hours? We were not able to fulfill this request, but we did arrange for them to be pressed.

She was so very distraught and yet attempting to keep herself together to get through this moment, and the next moment, and the next. Feeling completely at a loss in the face of her grief, I offered to pray with her. She gratefully accepted and wet my shoulder with her tears.

Up until this point, my day had been going very badly. Actually, the bad had collected into a heap from several days prior. My focus was only on myself. All of these things were going wrong, getting in the way of me accomplishing that One Big Thing for God. Someday.

But out of the blue, and into the moment, walks someone with a need. God has given me an opportunity to connect. To minister. Suddenly, my day, my week, my life has value again.

God has taught me something that I've known forever, but needed reminding of. Being a Christian isn't so much about doing the One Big Thing, but about living, learning and loving through a collection of moments over a lifetime.

IN DEFENSE OF FICTION

2009-11-23T14:03:00.000-08:00

I am a reader. I have been my whole life. I don't remember learning to do it, just that I always have. Books are like old friends. They comfort me. I enjoy the way they feel when I hold them. I enjoy the way they sound when I fan their pages. I enjoy the way they smell when I sniff them...Yes, I sniff them.

I am a connoisseur of a wide variety of genres, both fiction and non-fiction. At any given time, I am in the process of reading one or two of each. Most of my reads are Christian works, but I'm not above delving deep into the autobiography of an inspirational secular success story.

Occasionally, I receive negative feedback from folks who see fiction as completely worthless. Reading fiction requires wisdom and discretion on the part of the reader. I will admit that many fiction writers waste their talent on mindless manuscripts and sensual drivel. If this is the sort of thing you're mentally and visually ingesting, Congratulations! You are what you read. Junk in, junk out.

Good fiction, however, teaches. Good fiction has been researched. Good fiction moves people to make better life choices.

Much knowledge can be gleaned from fictional works that you wouldn't take the time to research yourself. This knowledge, even though learned "by accident", lies dormant to be referenced in the future.

Oh, and by the way, Jesus often taught in parables, which are fictional stories used to relate a lesson, moral or truth.

"And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, behold, a sower went forth to sow..."

ONE GARMENT

2009-11-19T08:14:00.001-08:00

Several years ago, I saw a documentary about a lady who got rid of all her clothes and purchased seven blue dresses. All seven were exactly alike -royal blue, cut a few inches below the knee, three-quarter length sleeves, modest neckline, belted at the waist. A very practical choice for wearing every day. And that is exactly what she did.

Her reasoning for making this life choice was that she had found herself caring too much about her physical appearance and what people thought about her looks. She had decided to focus, instead, on her character. So, she intentionally chose an outfit that would not draw attention to what people saw, but what people felt when they were in her presence.

Now, if I were choosing a garment to wear every single day, this particular blue dress would not be the one. The thought makes me rather squeamish. I definately, without any need to think further, would choose black. Straight, but not binding. No pleats. Hanging just above my ankles so that it swished when I walked, maybe a spandex-mix with some stretch, three-quarter length sleeves, modest neckline, and of course, wrinkle-free.

I know many of you are cringing right now at my choice, or perhaps just at the thought of wearing the same garment every day. These feelings only accentuate the need to choose wisely. This is the one garment that I would choose in the natural, and I'm very comfortable with my choice. But if I had to choose one spiritual garment, what would it be?

Isaiah 61:1-3 talks about a Garment that is given by God, himself. 1The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;

2To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;

3To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.

If I had to choose only one spiritual garment, it would be the Garment of Praise. This garment covers a multitude of error. If I have leaned too much to the flesh on any given day, the solution is to Praise God. If I have been in want for anything, the solution is to Praise God. If I have been confused, the solution is to Praise God. If I have been offensive or been offended, the solution is to Praise God. If I have allowed my emotions to get the better of me, the solution is to Praise God. If my spirit has been depressed or riddled with anxiety, the solution is to Praise God.

The Garment of Praise is like a warm cloak on a cold, winters day or a protective shade from the raging sun. Yes, when people see me, I want them to see me wearing my Garment of Praise every day.

A TORNADO IN THE DESERT

2009-10-07T08:33:00.000-07:00

Much has been said about Elijah’s departure from this world and Elisha’s faithfulness in remaining with him to the end, even in the face of Elija’s insistence that he remain behind. Elijah first told him to stay behind so that he could travel on to Bethel, then to Jericho and finally to Jordan. Elisha’s response to each of these requests was unwavering, “As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee.”

Each of these choices was a point of testing. Would the apprentice be faithful to the elder prophet? Yet the greatest time of testing was yet to come. Finally, as Elijah realized that his young student would not be dissuaded from following him, he asked what Elisha’s desire was. Elisha replied that he wanted a double portion. A double portion of what? God’s Spirit and anointing.

Elijah’s response is one of the most brushed over of the scripture, “You have asked a hard thing. Never the less, if you see me when I am taken up…” Why was Elisha’s request a hard thing? Because in order to meet his mentor’s requirements, he was going to have to face his fears.

We often hear about the Chariot and horses of fire, but it fails to register that there was what we would call a tornado involved here. Not only did Elisha have to be faithful enough to not give up and turn back; he also had to keep Elijah in his sight until he was taken up and the prophet’s mantle had fallen down.

I experienced a tornado recently and while my kids and I did stand at the window and watch the approaching black clouds and distant lightening with awe, there was a point when the hail began to fall and things started flying through the air that we bailed and ran. At first we felt brave, all secure in our brick house, but the closer the monster got, the more our bravado failed us. In one instant, we went from facing the oncoming storm to running breathlessly to hide in the basement.

Elisha knew that Elijah was being taken from him that day. Scripture says that God would do nothing in the earth unless He first reveals it to his sons the prophets. The great and notable event was prophecied at each place they stopped. Elisha knew what; he just didn’t know how. He didn’t know how frightening it would be. He didn’t realize the powerful emotions that would threaten to engulf him at the critical moment when he must not look away. The overwhelming urge to flee, even though he had refused to turn back from following his mentor at every other point of the journey.

God’s Word says, He that endures until the end shall be saved. Many people have walked a measure of the journey with the Lord. They have even done notable works for the Kingdom during that time. But when they had to face their greatest fears -rejection, offense, or crumbling goals -they fled. Or when they were called upon by the Spirit to come up higher, they hid their faces against the onslaught of oppression.

We are called to look to Jesus in the face of apparent destruction, when we can see nothing but calamity on the horizon. After the younger prophet had picked up Elijah’s mantle, the symbol of Elisha’s much sought after double portion, did he remember a moment when he almost turned away from the storm. Was he embarrassed by his humanity?

In this journey that we are walking with Jesus, we must not turn back, but what if God requires more of us in these last days? What if we are called on to face our fears? What would we do if we weren’t afraid? To pray, to sing, to write, to speak, to witness? What spiritual victories would we attain if we didn’t seek shelter when the thing that we are most afraid of is upon us? What blessing might be hiding in the raging storm?

THE MACHINE CALLED LIFE

2009-09-15T10:46:00.000-07:00

Now that our house is complete, my husband has set his mind to have the most perfectly smooth yard (several acres worth) possible. I was watching him operate the dozer a few days ago, anticipating what the yard will look like when we are able to sow the grass seed and it begins to grow.

I went in the house for something and when I came back out, he had moved to a different location out of my field of vision. I sat on the back porch reading a book and listening to the rhythmic accelerating and decelerating of the motor, until it dawned on me what he must be doing.

From the first day that we bought the farm, I had made it known that I wanted him to clean out from under a particular tree. We have several huge oak and pecan trees that line our driveway and one was excessively surrounded by undergrowth, a prominent eyesore.

Laying my book aside, I went to investigate. Sure enough, there he was clearing the small trees and bushes away. I stood and watched in amazement because with that massive machine, he was making the smallest movements, using just the edge of the colossal blade to manipulate a little tree which had grown up right next to the larger one.

His Papa, who he learned this skill from, would have been proud as he delicately worked to extricate the offending foliage. Finally, after all the pushing, pulling, prodding and wedging…success, without one bit of damage to my beloved tree.

Doesn’t God operate the same way with us? He sees our potential far in advance and He makes a plan to clean us up. He knows that we will eventually tower as a proud sentinel, even though for now we might not look like much. He is the Master Operator and uses the Machine called Life to push, pull, prod and wedge all of the useless encumbrances away from us.

So often, we try to flee from the groundwork that God is trying to accomplish. We are fearful that Life is out of control. No need to fear. God can be trusted to cause no damage. He is the Master Operator of this Machine called Life.

MY TURNING AROUND PLACE

2009-08-28T12:58:00.000-07:00

The Lord has blessed me with a wonderful place to walk in our new neighborhood. It’s one of the things that I have thanked Him for over and over since we moved. The road has just enough hills to let me know I’ve accomplished something, and enough flats that allow me to enjoy the beautiful scenery.

I like to walk two miles a day, which means I need to walk one mile and then turn around and head for home. Exactly at the mile mark begins the white picket fence of my neighbors.

I can see the fence from quite a distance, knowing all the while that I’m going to turn around there. But something peculiar happens as I get closer to my turning around place. I begin to wonder, “How exactly should I turn around?”

Should I just pivot quickly and matter-of-factly? Should I walk in a semi-circle and make a wide u-turn? Should I prop against the fence first and then casually wander back in the other direction? I mean, someone could be watching me that I’m not aware of. Is it going to look foolish if they see me stop abruptly and take off in the other direction?

There’s an awkwardness that overtakes me at this point. Every time. Like I said, it’s peculiar. After all, this IS my turning around place. I could keep going and often I want to. But if I do, I might not have enough energy to get home.

In this journey called life, we all come to a Turning Around Place. We know it’s coming, but when we get there, how do we go about turning around from actions, attitudes and attractions that are taking us in the wrong direction? Who’s watching? What will they think?

Who cares? If this is your Turning Around Place, TURN AROUND. It doesn’t matter so much whether it’s gracefully done. What matters is that you get going in the direction of home.

SEARCHING

2009-07-18T09:17:00.000-07:00

We spend our whole lives searching...

for Peace,
for Beauty,
for Fellowship,
for Love,
for Comraderie,
for Understanding,
for Truth,
for Healing,
for Purpose.

We spend our whole lives searching...for Heaven.

MY APOSTOLIC FACE

2009-06-20T08:06:00.000-07:00

This is my God-given,
Holy Ghost-driven,
Pure and holy face.

It’s my look me in the eyes,
I’ve got nothing to hide,
You can be assured face.

This is my completely see through,
No mask between me and you,
I can face the world face.

It’s my not afraid to cry,
Brush a tear from my eye,
Splash some water and wipe it dry face.

This is my what you see is what you get,
Trustworthy and transparent,
In the image of God face.

It’s my Heaven viewing,
Sin eschewing,
Beautiful, Apostolic face.

TOO BIG

2009-06-20T07:26:00.000-07:00

My middle child is fifteen. What a great kid he is, but definitely a teenager with all the stereotypical moodiness associated with that role. He smiles when he wants to smile, not when you want him to. He laughs when he wants to laugh, not when you want him to. He is in a good mood when he wants to be, not…well, you get the picture. And so those rare moments when he’s smiling and excited about something without being coerced are treasured.

This was the case one evening just before dark. As I was at the computer, he came up the basement stairs at a fast clip, very excited about something he had just seen. It seems he was playing basketball when he spotted a slim stream of ants coming from a small crevice beside the concrete court. The exodus was getting wider and longer. Going where? On a whim, he followed the little soldiers, and followed...and followed.

He told me how they marched on and on, making grand detours for no apparent reason, until they disappeared en masse into a miniature canyon in the field behind our house. He was so animated that I decided to see for myself (Neither did I want this fragment of time to end when my teenager was including me in his world:)

He showed me where the small battalion trickled from the crack and together we weaved in and out, round and round, to where thousands, perhaps millions, were vanishing beneath the earth. As we backtracked toward the house, I picked up a small stick and put it in their path. It was as if they hardly even noticed the obstacle. We bent down so close that they should have felt our breath as we tried to corral them with the stick, and yet they just kept on their detour-ridden journey.

In amazement, I said to my son, “We’re too big. They can’t even see us.”

There was a time when God was too big for us to see. Immense. Infinite. Immeasurable. He watched us on our hopeless journey, knowing that we were making it much more arduous than necessary. He intervened in the lives of mankind time after time, often coming so close that we should have felt His Breath through prophets, angels and theophanies. Yet He was still too big to perceive.

Until the day that He became small. God became man. Suddenly Visible. Tangible. Physical.

If I could have stepped into that miniature world and taken on the form of an ant, they could have seen me. They could have perceived me. They could have come to know, trust and perhaps even love me, in their own ant-like way.

But why would I do such a thing? Unimaginable. Unthinkable. Inconceivable. And yet, exactly what our all-powerful and loving God did…

...when He became small for me.

THE GIFT

2008-06-30T21:18:00.000-07:00

I held Daddy's hand and listened as his breaths came at eighteen-second intervals. A gasp followed by a silence during which all the family would hold our breath.

After an extended silence, the hospice nurse leaned in to listen for a heartbeat. She nodded her head to let us know she thought he was gone.

My eyes, however, were fastened on the weak pulse in his neck, and knowing he only had a second or two more, when the nurse stepped back to note the time of death, I stepped up and placed my hand over that place. Resting my face next to his, I cradled his head with my free hand.

I can still feel the warmth of his cheek against mine and the gentle throb of life ebbing under my hand. If I concentrate, I can smell the scent of his hair and clothes. Those sensations may fade with time, but the thing that I will not, cannot ever forget, is his final and unexpected gasp of breath that literally drew my own breath into his body...and the stillness under the palm of my hand.

THE GARDENER

2008-02-16T06:05:00.000-08:00

"They see him and mistake him for the gardener, because they have no expectation of his return." This is a line of an email Bible study from my friend and former Pastor (kenraggio.com) that was in my inbox this morning. It triggered a memory from years ago of another church, another time, another life.

It was our church's second night in revival with an evangelist that had never been with us before this series of meetings and I was the hostess in charge of greeting people at the door. I was really anticipating this service because the previous night I had kept the nursery and had been relegated to catching occasional glimpses on the 12" by 12" black and white monitor and hearing snippets of preaching over multiple babies' crying.

A very distinguished looking visitor comes through the door and I want to make a good impression on him. After all, he just might be looking for a church. Very confidently, I extend my hand, grasp his in a warm handshake and with what I hope is a welcoming smile say, "Welcome to Bible Tabernacle. Have you visited with us before?"

I'm sure that I do not have the words to adequately describe the look on the gentleman's face, but it did convince me that what he said and what he wanted to say were two very different things. With his hand still being pumped eagerly in mine and a most solemn look on his face, he replied in a deep baritone, "I am Brother Grimsley. I was here last night."

The thing that happened next really is a moment frozen in time for me. The infusion of heat that spread from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet was quickly doused by the glacial dread of knowledge that I had failed to recognize our evangelist. I'm certain that I resembled a soul being wrenched spasmodically between two worlds as I sputtered and stuttered through my attempt to explain where I had been the previous night.

With my hand now caged firmly in his, much like a dove on its way to the altar of sacrifice, Brother Grimsley calmly looks me in the eye and says, "It's alright, Sister. They even mistook Jesus for the gardener."

Much to my discomfort, Brother Grimsley has derived much wicked pleasure out of introducing himself from the pulpit as "Brother Gardener" when preaching for us through the years. We have laughed together many times over my blunder. But I wonder...

How many people will miss Jesus' return because they have no expectation of such an occurance. Or perhaps on a more personal level...how many of us fail to see Jesus working in our daily lives because we are so busy doing for Him?

Do YOU ever mistake Jesus for the gardener?

THE DAY MY DAD CAME FOR LUNCH

2008-01-11T06:02:00.000-08:00

One day this week, my dad showed up at my office unexpectedly. I had been busy working all morning and now it was lunchtime. I asked him if he had eaten; I was ravenous and was hoping that we could visit over lunch. He had already eaten, so I tried to push my thoughts of juicy burgers into the background of my mind while I smiled and nodded. After all, I don't see my dad as often as I should. Then something wonderful happened. Daddy says, "Honey, have you all eaten yet? I've already eaten, but I thought I might go with you and have a cup of coffee or a piece of pie."

HALLELUJAH! I grabbed my purse, threw on my coat and said over my shoulder, "You can ride with us."

We sat down at the newest fast food place in town and enjoyed some great burgers. (Daddy must have felt like living on the edge that day because he went all out with a strawberry shake:) We visited and remembered and imagined and each of us left feeling a little closer than an hour before.

That day reminded me of my Heavenly Father. I don't always make time for Him as I should, yet He still stops by to say hello and assure me of His love. He is willing to go with me throughout my day, even though He has need of nothing from me. To my Heavenly Father, time spent with me is like indulging in a steaming cup of coffee on a cold day or a piece of sweet, rich caramel pie or a thick, delicious milkshake. He loves me...what can I say?

HE'S OUTA HERE!

2007-12-08T05:54:00.000-08:00

A great amount of authority comes with the wearing of a uniform. Last night, for instance, at my son's basketball game, the ref made a call which the opposing team's coach did not approve of. The coach was up on his feet questioning the call, to which the ref patiently gave an explanation. The coach, however, was not satisfied and continued to verbally press the ref, for which he was rewarded with a technical. The opposing coach walked to the wall and leaned in frustration.

To the casual (code for "completely clueless") basketball observer (like me) it would seem that all is over, but the ref stops the player who has already taken one free throw and looks at the coach, instructing him to sit down. What??? Is this ref on some sort of power trip? The coach informs him that there is no room on the bench for him to sit, to which the ref answers, "Then move your players down!" When the coach raises his voice again to rebuttle, the ref loudly proclaims, "He's outa here!"

Silence from our team and fans (We don't want to somehow further offend this very powerful ref who has the the authority to throw people out of the game). Grumbles of "Can he do that?" and "Who does he think he is?" and swift lurching of breaths and half-said words from the opposing team and fans.

Coach tries a stall tactic with, "I just want to know why!" Ref says, "NO. This game will not continue until he's out of here. If you're not out of this building in ten seconds, you will forfeit the game." At about the six second mark a door slams behind the coach -one last effort to make his objections heard.

The official word has gone forth and been enforced by the one who has the authority to do so...and the game is back on.

What the completely clueless fan (me) didn't know was that when a coach gets a technical, he must sit down. Opposing Coach knew it but was testing his limits. Did Ref know the rule? Did Ref know he had the authority to enforce the rule? Would Ref have enough boldness to truly fill that position of authority when push came to shove? Coach found out the answer: Absolutely.

Did you know that as a Child of God, when you were baptized in the name of Jesus Christ, you took on the Name of Jesus with all the authority that it affords you? As a Born Again Christian, you have the witness of the Spirit backing you. As a Soldier of the Cross, you have access to the whole armor of God for an offensive battle.

Do you know the rules of engagement? The devil knows them. He knows the authority that you have in the name of Jesus Christ. Will he test you? Most definitely. Will he go willingly? Never.

Remember that you are wearing the Uniform. You have authority in the Name of Jesus. You have the backing of the Spirit. You have the protection of the Whole Armor of God. There is no reason for you to back down against the enemy. Whatever your situation is, speak the Word of authority with boldness. Tell the devil, "NO! You will leave now in Jesus' name!" Yes, he will oppose you and rebuttle and kick and scream and slam doors and make a lot of noise, but when the official Word has gone forth from someone with the authority to speak it, HE'S OUTA HERE!

PENNIES FROM HEAVEN

2007-10-17T14:48:00.000-07:00

Sunday, my pastor husband asked from the pulpit, "If you saw a coin lying on the ground in front of you, would you stop to pick it up?" Most of the congregation was quick to answer, "Yes". Then he added, "Even if it was only a penny?" There was a bit more hesitancy to answer this question, many feeling that it would be a waste of time to stop for a mere penny.
A few, myself included, still enthusiastically affirmed that we would stop even for the penny, after all, "Money's money!"

I have a better reason to stop that was shared with me several years ago. On every American coin are the words "In God We Trust"...even the meek and lowly penny. When I see any coin in my path, I immediately take it as a reminder to trust God. Many times, I am going about my day on the outside, but dealing with difficult circumstances on the inside, wondering, "What should I do? What's going to happen?" Then I see that little copper penny from Heaven and am immediately reminded that I don't necessarily have to DO anything for things to work out...I simply need to trust God.

From now on when you see a lost coin in your path, do what I do -stop, bend over, pick up the little message from Heaven, dust it off, hold it in your palm for a few seconds and say, "Thank you, Jesus. I'm going to trust you today!"

BE STILL MY SOUL

2007-08-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

To Sister Barb who is a beacon of light for me.

Be still my soul.
Don’t struggle so.
You are safe in the Master’s hand.

Be still my soul.
Just rest in Him.
Trust in His unfolding plan.

Be still my soul,
And feel His breath,
Life and pulse and flame.

Be still my soul,
And hear His voice,
Caressing the sound of your name.

Be still my soul.
Push back the dark.
You are His beacon of light.

Be still my soul,
And shine for those
Who are still treading the night…

…Be still my soul.

WINTER'S COMING

2007-03-11T20:44:00.000-07:00

When I was a child growing up, I remember much harder winters than we have now. During the winter of 1976-77, we were out of school for six weeks. (My oldest brother assures me that he remembers this year well, as it started snowing on New Year's Eve, was followed by an ice storm and we didn't go back to school until the first week of February. He didn't get to graduate until June 8th because of it...I can see why it's imprinted on his mind:)

It seems every year, our winters get milder and milder. Yet, without fail, we will have a few really harsh weeks, which always catch us by surprise and cause us to run scurrying to make sure we have enough staples in the cabinet and propane in the gas tank outside. Living in the country, we also have an annual family wood cutting day (much to our kids' delight).

We have church in the middle of the day on Sundays and so my husband and I have a Sunday morning ritual. After breakfast we make "the rounds", checking on our horses and cows. This morning, we drove through the gate and, as usual, my husband started honking the horn at the cows. They heard this welcome sound and came running from the distant hills, eager for the feed that they knew was in his vehicle.

As I sat in the Jeep watching them shuffle for a place at the feeders, I smiled to myself, remembering just a few months earlier. It had also been a Sunday morning and we had come through the gate honking the horn, but to my husband's frustration, the cows wouldn't pay him any attention. He honked. He yelled. He banged on the feeders...nothing. I distinctly remember thinking to myself at the time, Just wait, winter's coming.

You see, I knew something those fat, lazy, content cows didn't. It won't always be summer. The grass won't always be tender and green. The skies won't always be blue. Winter is coming and when it does, content cows become hungry cows.

Isn't it the same with us? God beckons to us. He honks. He yells. He bangs on the feeders...nothing. We have become fat, lazy and content in the spirit. We have forgotten that it won't always be summer, the grass won't always be tender and green and the skies won't always be blue. God knows something else that we have forgotten -winter is coming and when it does, content saints become hungry saints.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER...

2007-02-04T05:41:00.000-08:00

...flock together. Isn't that how the old saying goes? Church is a bit like life at my birdfeeder. Birds (and saints) come in all different colors, shapes and personalities.

First, there are the dominate, brilliantly colored Cardinals. The flamboyant males waste no time making their grand entrance. They set the mood and order the goings on, while their equally stunning mates give them support from a nearby limb.

Second, there are the little round birds that only feel brave enough to approach the feeder if they have reinforcements. Hence, the reason they come in groups of five or six. Their strength is in their numbers.

Third, there are the small, gray birds with the top thatch on their heads. They come to the feeder alone and only when their hunger drives them to brave the crowd. They are spectacular in their own right, but never feel quite good enough about themselves to bond with the rest of the flock.

Fourth, are the raucus Bluejays. They aren't regular to the feeder, but when they do come, they always have something to say.

Fifth, come the more settled Doves. They approach as a couple and, usually, only one pair per feeder. They sigh and calmly assess the atmosphere at the feeder, then go about their business
-their togetherness never affected by the hodge podge of activity around them.

Sixth, flies in the occasional Red-headed Woodpecker. He's alone. He's busy. He's on the move. You can't build a relationship with a Woodpecker.

And finally, seventh, come the Crows. They have their own agenda. They're sleek and impressive, always capturing everyone's attention with their quick wit...while they scatter all the feed from here to there so that everyone goes hungry while trying to tend to them...blasted Crows. (I know what you're thinking, "But they're SOULS!" Well, trust me, some birds are just decoys.)

I send my son out to replenish the seed. He's the Pastor of this feeder. If the birds knew that I watched their antics inconspicuously from the window, would they realize there's plenty to go around? Would they begin to work together for the common good? Would they invite others to come and dine?

IF I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE...

2007-01-22T06:46:00.001-08:00

...I've told you a hundred times! How many times have we said this to our own children? (just previous to the huff and eye roll) Aren't we really saying, "This is a valuable piece of information that I REALLY want you to get"?

When God repeats something in his Word, it is because he has a desire to relay it's importance to us. Hence the message in Psalm 107:8 and 15, and 21 AND 31 -"Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!"

From these verses I see a snapshot of God, the Creator of the universe, with a hunger to be noticed by his creation. I see a God who has done and continues to do great and mighty works for his people and yet, so many times, we are oblivious to his involvement in our lives.

How many times have you been on the brink of mental, physical or spiritual tragedy, and yet a way of escape was made for you? How many times have you been the recipient of blessings that you knew you didn't deserve? How many times have you watched the beauty of a sunset, the tranquility of a river, the mystery of an unfolding rose, the majesty of a soaring eagle, or the way of a mother with her newborn child...and not given God the glory?

Our God desires to be noticed, and He deserves to be praised.