Where Are You?

Originally submitted in part as 'Oh Snap!' to faithwriters.com for the challenge topic of Rash in April 2018.

I often think of Eden, longing for the day we are in perfection with our Lord and Savior. God created a paradise to fellowship with His creation. Imagine walking with Him in the cool of the evening, friend to friend, sharing joy and laughter, knowing you are loved and have His full attention. I find myself humming the hymn “Just A Closer Walk with Thee” even now when I think about that one-on-one time with Him.

In Eden, there were no bad days. That quick decision based on lust and pride changed everything, we could no longer live forever tending a garden. Now we have bad hair days, or no hair at all, for that one action placed us in a fallen world, one that decays and ages. Yet, the evening after the great deception, and already knowing what had happened, God seeks fellowship, calling out “Where are you?”

We still have the opportunity a relationship, yet it is in a fallen world. God repaired the broken access when He sent Jesus. Jesus patiently waits for me now, even though I jeered from the crowd, held the nails at the cross, and denied Him as my friend. He still paid the price for my sin and defeated death when He rose on the third day. He is in heaven with our Father and He prepares a place for us. He’s always with us, just as He promised. He’s coming back to take us home.

God’s mercies are new each day but do we take it for granted or celebrate it with Him. It begins with that very first waking thought. What is it? A ‘to do’ list or urgent call for comfort? Sometimes it’s a groan and a snooze for 5 more minutes as I turn over and snuggle deeper under the covers. It might be the jar of an urgent call from a family member or a crying child that starts our day. It could be the persistent meow or bark for a need to release and refill from our pet. Any number of beginnings can keep us from offering our first fruits to the Lord.

We climb on the spinning wheel taking us through the day. More to do than we can get done yet thinking there must be a more efficient way to manage our time. Sun is sinking lower in the sky. Now it’s time to cook dinner, bathe kids, clean the house, mow the lawn, watch a movie, write a song, you name it and it’s waiting. Whether it’s surfing ocean waves or 300 channels of mindless drivel polluting our minds, our tsunami of a day crashes around us as we fall into bed, exhausted and spent. We’ve dodged time with Him all day focusing on ‘things.’ It’s the cool of the evening; He waits for us calling ‘Where are you?’

We may reach for our Bible with the best of intentions to read. As our mind quiets, we fall asleep after a few verses. We haven’t prayed, had devotional/quiet time, praised, or studied with our friend today. Did we yesterday? We promise we will spend time with Him tomorrow. The day starts with that same waking thought and we’re off again. We can break the cycle only if we are purposefully setting time aside to be with Him. Only if we are faithful to Him, can we cultivate the relationship Jesus died to repair.

I look forward to a cool evening, walking with Jesus. I eagerly await sitting at His feet in worship and praise. I ponder discussions with some of my heroes-Joshua, Ruth, Peter, and Luke to name just a few. Great expectations fill my soul with the desire to reunite with family already there; to meet my children; to trade in this decaying body for a new model, to serve alongside saints. I wonder what my room will look like and who will be my neighbors.

Until then, I spend time with Jesus by being in the Word each day, praying incessantly, and singing praise songs. I try not to be RASH - Race Against Schedules Haphazardly or React And Speak Hastily. I pray to He finds me snapped out of the world focus and be about the Lord’s business. I want to be, live, and love RASH - Running All-in Seeking Him, Resting and Singing Hallelujah. I want to respond, ‘Here I am’ when He calls, ‘Where are you?’

Genesis 3:9  Then the Lord God called to Adam and said to him, "Where are you?"  NKJV 

Squeeze the Day

Lemon in water is known to aid digestion.  Some claim it cleanses and detoxes the body, however further research has proven this is not a function lemon in water can perform.  Anyway, recently as I finished up a meal in a restaurant, it got me thinking about some things.  Ride this train with me for a few minutes?

Trials we face in our lives are sometimes long and tedious.  As the pressure weighs on us, we can become a lemon.  Sour reflects on our face as bitterness thins our lips and narrows our eyes.  Sharp and acidic can manifest in our relationships with cutting remarks or a hardening heart.  The very air around someone this hurt can be caustic, abrasive, keeping others away when they need them most.

We all face hardships.  Trials are a part of our day to day, whether it’s a rude driver or a grieving friend, we are affected by their actions.  Our reactions impact them, those around them, and ourselves.  I have my moments, we all do, when we are overwhelmed, failing to turn our eyes off ourselves and onto Jesus.  I often ponder – Am I generous of spirit to others?  Am I forgiving without being asked?   Do I apologize and ask forgiveness for my words and actions?  Do I speak with a loving voice?  Do I share with a giving heart?  Do I seek to understand with a teachable spirit?    

In John 16:33b, Jesus tells us “In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."   He paid it all for us to have everlasting life with Him in heaven once we leave this world.  He tells us in John 7:8 “He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”  He pours into us expecting us to pour into others.  Without His sacrifice and our acceptance of that gift, we do not have that eternal lifegiving water!  

I’m telling myself now, go to the well daily, and return throughout the day, to be filled with the living water of Christ.  Share this water with all who are thirsty.  Believing in Him provides us with the perfect solution into which we can ‘squeeze the day’ to stomach those sour moments.

---

Cavalier Driver

(originally submitted by me in part as 'A Blue Cavalier in Colorado Snow' on Faithwriters.com weekly challenge)

I'm a Georgia native; had lived there my entire life. In 1995, my job took a turn, and we opted to move to beautiful Colorado so I could stay with the company. In Atlanta, there was a January ice storm delaying take off. We arrived in Denver to sixty degrees and sun. We quickly learned how Colorado weather could change when the moving van came a week later to 8" of snow. Our cars arrived a few days after the furniture.

We had decided not to get a Colorado Cadillac, a Jeep, because we might not need it. Contrary to what some may have heard, the Denver area is not a rough place to drive when it snows. They have equipment and materials to take care of the roads. Working throughout the night, they put down sand and salt, helping avoid vehicle spinouts.

One morning, after scraping the windshield, and having a ‘yahoo' moment on the ice beneath the snow, I headed out for my 6 am shift. The snow plows had not yet made it to the secondary streets. In Georgia, we stay at home when there is ice on the roads, but in Colorado, you go about your daily routine, unless there is a blizzard. This storm was just a few inches, so I a snow day was not in order.  

I stopped at the light from a side street to a state road.  It turned green rather quickly.  A pickup truck with an eager driver had to stop.  He was not happy I interrupted his forward progress.  How did I know this?  He gave me the one finger wave to fly away.  

Having driven the same route for several weeks, I had learned to use the cross-walk signal at the top of a fairly steep hill to gauge the need to stop at the traffic light. The hand started flashing at the crosswalk not long after I turned onto the road. Slowing down, I prepared to stop. 

With horn blaring and lights flashing the 4x4 pickup raced by me. The driver was banging on the steering wheel and if his window were down, I'd most likely got my ears burned with his language.  I guess he had somewhere important to be, left late, and an encounter with a bundled up female driver in a front wheel drive blue Cavalier with Georgia plates was not in his plans for the morning. Sure enough, the traffic light turned red. The truck driver slammed on his brakes. 

Now I may be from Georgia, but I'm no country bumpkin. I know 4-wheel drive is not 4-wheel stop. I know moisture freezes when temperatures are in the low 20's. I know the laws of nature make ice an excellent accelerant when black and beneath tires. I know to slow down and tap brakes when road conditions are dangerous. The truck driver either didn't know or forgot about these things. 

The pickup came to a stop against the curb after promenading through the intersection. The axles broke. Both wheels on the driver's side buckled under the truck. I managed to stop at the light without sliding on the ice. 

The driver got out of his pickup, slamming the door and gesturing, frantically. Kicking his vehicle as if it were to blame for now being damaged, the man turned red in the face. To say he was angry would be too light a word for his actions. I think he needed a tranquilizer or at least less caffeine to start his day.

I placed my forehead on the steering wheel, trying to hide my smile.  My shoulders are shaking, not from cold or fear, from the laughter bubbling out of me. I'm not talking nervous giggles here. Deep bellyaching, eye-watering laughter that can be contagious if others are around. Recognizing the irony of the situation with the Ray Charles classic "Georgia on my Mind" blaring from the radio, I laughed; probably looked like a crazy woman but I couldn't contain myself.

I managed to rein in my sarcasm. My manners required my mouth to remain shut.  My faith commanded a prayer for the driver's safety. I wanted to share a smile with the man who undoubtedly had a lousy day in full play. I decided he wouldn't like it. As I drove by, I tipped my horn and waved.  Honestly, I wished the guy a better day than his morning had been going. I believe one good turn deserves another, but you know what I ached to do? What the bad guy on my shoulder urged me to do? What I had to force myself not to do?  

Reach over and roll down the window. In my best velvety Southern belle voice say, "Excuse me, sir? I'm new around here. Would you kindly show me again how to do that?"

Ivory Joy

We were blessed to grow up near my grandparents.  We could stand on the porch and talk to them on their porch if we spoke loudly.  They were on the opposite side of the road and up a few hundred yards from us.  We made a path through the field on our side of the road so we could get to them with limited asphalt time.  Filled with red top clover, the sweet fragrance surrounding us as we walked, any flower scent takes me back to those childhood summers.
  
Wash days were one of our favorites, and if we were at their house, bonus.  Gran'ma had a wringer washing machine.  Wooden crates turned on end held washtubs set on top.  The larger ones had rinse water, the smaller some Argo starch stirred in.  The drain from the washing machine was a garden hose stretched across the yard to the fig bush.  All of this was on the front porch where we'd play until the washing finished. 

Once the laundry was hung on the line to dry, the machine unplugged and rolled back to its spot, Gran'ma would open up a nearby wooden cabinet.  Excitement took over as she passed out empty dishwashing liquid bottles, usually Ivory or Joy.  Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to clear out the rinse water using those bottles.  Dipping into the tub and watching the bubbles rise as the water rushed in, we grinned.  Then, the gauntlet was thrown by one of us putting the top on and squirting another.  Water fight!  All was fair in fun and, there's no crying in squirt battles!  Peals of laughter and a bit of surprised squealing filled the yard as we raced around in play.

When I think of that time today, I see the white bottle with its blue and white label.  The Ivory bottle always reminded me of a bright summer sky with clouds white as snow.  Living near the Rockies now, we get snow.  The clean, pristine shine reminds me of several things, including those summer fun days of play.  The passage of Isaiah 1:18 comes to mind, "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow…"  I feel clean, renewed.

More often, I recall the yellow one with the green and red label, Joy.  It reminds me of the sunshine, of the laughter.  In vivid clarity, I replay summer days running in abandon with my siblings, unfettered delight bubbling out of us, filling us with such bliss.  Joy was so carefree and spontaneous when we were kids.  Now we get bogged down in the busyness of being an adult, placing gladness in a hidden compartment where it only comes out when the circumstances are right.   We feel weighted with responsibility and tired.  When I start feeling this way, I take a moment and remember those summers of my youth.  I pray and find the joy of the Lord is my strength, just as told in Nehemiah.  Otherwise, I'm too spent to do anything.

Joy is Jesus Others Yourself.  It is a quiet evening with praise music in the background while my pencils and crayons play with my Bible study understanding.  It is that feeling of warmth throughout my body, waiting to bubble over in luxury or to settle peacefully around me for a good night's sleep.  It is serving the Lord at church, the smiles of the children, the worship songs, the message, the 'amen' at the end of prayer.

It is not circumstantial.  It is not fleeting.  It is not spontaneous.  It is not happiness.  It is in a heart filled with love for the Lord and all His people, eager to be about His business to advance His kingdom.  Joy is that bright yellow bottle filled with the living water of Christ to be showered on others while reveling in some of it myself.  Let's play!

The Pearl

Originally written as a submission on FaithWriters.com for the weekly challenge topic 'rich,' it is real.  It took a while to move through the phases of grief, but God is faithful and propelled me forward in His timing.  You won't find much humor in this one.  You will find a heart bare with emotion.  I pray you find your hope in Jesus as you read about this widow who realizes a grit of irritation produces a pearl in nature.  She compares this to her loss and how she is being refined during this season of life.


I gaze longingly at a distant horizon, one lost in the haze of memory. I do not notice the coppery topaz sky over mountains, the soft gray and peach of polished jasper. The vivid ruby and carat rich golden glow of sunset captures me in a perfect setting. I remember the ring of promise.

Morphing to a crisp fall day, I recall the emerald grass near the rushing water of a stream as I commit myself to a life with the man of my dreams. Our past washes away like the garnet red maple leaf twisting in the current. Our now, glowing amber with the warmth of true love, we revel in the newness. Our future, an opal mist of possibility, fills us with barely contained excitement. Once separate dreams join in a kaleidoscope of jewels, crowning us for growing old together. He calls me beautiful, his princess. I tumble deeper into the treasure of his eyes, the circle of his arms.

A subtle shift of shadows, I find a world of onyx. The light disappears, lost in the corners of a heart broken with loss, cracked with uncertainty. Despair envelopes me in a tarnished cloak, heavy with grief. I search the world around me for a glimmer of hope to cut through the pain. My chest constricts with pitted bands of loneliness.

Like a ring tucked into a jewel box, the sun slips lower. The turquoise edges of the sky flow gently into sapphire twinkling with diamonds. I look down at my wedding ring. A ghost of a smile creases my face as joy polishes the tumbling oppressive thoughts. Crystal clarity, a unique necklace of peace with a platinum locket of hope settles against my heart.

The now amethyst sky glimmers with the rising silver moon. Chuckling softly, I wrap myself in surety of a reunion. Though widowed, I am not alone. As complex as I am, my logic is simple, my faith strong. The irritants of this life, the trials, temporary and fleeting, refine us. They circle and adhere, creating jewels. They turn us into treasured servants for Christ. Gazing up, I whisper a prayer.


Lord, Thank You for the time with my husband. Thank You for filling the hole in my heart with the richness of Your love for me. I pray I honor You as I move through this stage of life. I pray this time of refinement glorifies You. When I stand before You, I pray You find me a pearl. Amen.

She's Back?

I know some of you have been wondering where I have been.  I took some time to develop a few projects and increase readership on the Guardian Angels page in Facebook.  I am just shy of my goal, but feel compelled to not wait any longer.

Exciting and wonderful things are happening.  God called me to write.  Life got complicated with loss - job, spouse, immediate and extended family members, pet.  All of that poured out of the pen as sorrow and pain, no joy to be found, even between the lines.  Yes, it was all circumstantial.  Yes, I know my joy is found in Jesus and the joy of the Lord is my strength.

Every time I thought I was on the up and up, something held me back.  God taught me to draw, He even moved my hand at times while my eyes were closed.  God taught me what real love is - esteeming others higher than myself.  He taught me compassion - your pain is my pain too.  I now know, God was leading me to 'be still' while He worked.  Late in 2016, early 2017, He told me, 'all you've written thus far was for you.  Now it's time to write for Me.'  WOW!  I thought I was writing for You Lord and please forgive me for failing.

God is so great, He showed me the writing I've done, never posted, was healing me.  It's not bad, just not as edifying or glorifying as it should be.  God used this time to spread the balm of Gilead on my wounds, to fill my broken heart with the purest gold of His love, to clean the cobwebs from the attic of my mind, and to teach me how to walk again as His child.

Thank You Lord for Your unfailing love!  Thank You Jesus for not giving up on me.  Thank You Father for leading me to be the 'whosoever' and guiding me to trust You, even when I cannot see.  Amen!

Thank You Jesus!

You lead me by the waters still

You paid my price on Calvary’s hill.

Your body bruised, pierced, and torn

For my soul, You were born.

Thank You Lord for Your love for me

Hanging You on the mercy tree.

You beckon me from yonder shore

Where pain and tears are no more.

I’ll humbly bow before Your throne

When at last I arrive forever home.

I’ll gaze into Your loving face

And worship Your eternal grace.

Glory to the God, praises rise

Gazing in my Savior’s eyes

Unfettered joy through eternity

When with Jesus, forever I’ll be.

I’m ready Lord for Your call

I surrender to You my all and all.

Get A Grip

As a child, fall promised the molasses taste of sorghum syrup, crisp Rome apples for jelly making, the smell of fresh cut hay, and the North GA State Fair.  Each year the midway beckoned our adventuresome spirit to bypass the carousel and head over to the Himalaya roller coaster.  Finally in our early teens, we were ‘big’ enough to experience the thrill of those coveted rides.  One of them, the Bullet, intrigued us as much as it filled us with expectant anticipation.

Looking like a couple of space-age hammers, two long arms with oblong capsules attached held a fascination as they lured us to the line.  My brother and I rode together, grinning so big it’s a wonder we didn’t attract moths.  As the handle-like poles swung back and forth, laughter bubbled out.  As we went higher, the carnival sounds faded as quickly as our mirth.  Held upside down for a moment, I knew I made a big mistake.  Then the centrifugal force of fast circles held my chin to my chest, causing pain and I just knew my next site would be heaven.  I shifted my eyes to the crossbar finding my brother‘s white-knuckled death grip and tears flowed down my cheeks. 

“Just hold on Dimple.  It’ll be over soon; just hold on!”

As if I could let go!  I couldn’t even move!

Have you ever been in a similar situation with no way to avoid imminent harm?  Do you know the tingle of feeling a clear and present danger paralyzing you against the typical fight or flight response?  Are you a crier, looking to others for help?  Where is your focus, here on this earth or your future? 

  

HOPE is the assurance of something better than right now.  It is the knowledge the temporal events of this life being the worst you will ever experience.  It is resting in the promise of eternal life.  It is security and safety, no matter what you are experiencing right this moment. 

HOPE, Hold Onto Promises Eternal, when things overwhelm you.  Cry out to God for wisdom.  Ask Him for the guidance to take the next step and the endurance to get through this season.  We face trials not only to test our faith but to strengthen it.  He will never give us a situation for which He will not be there with us to lead us through.

If you don’t know Jesus, ask Him into your life.  He’s right there waiting for you.  That soft knocking you hear is Him letting you know He’s seeking you.  That quickening you feel in your chest is an urge to answer His call. 

   

Jesus never promised an easy life; He promised incorruptible rewards.  He promised never to leave or forsake us.  He promised us abundant life.  Keep your eyes on the future, eternity with Him.

John 16:33 “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace.  In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”

Ready or Not, Here I Come!

Growing up in a time of dial phones, black and white television, and wind up watches, recess couldn’t come fast enough.  We looked forward to weekend playtime and had friends over for games.  The playgrounds at school had swings and monkey bars as well as fields to play kickball.  We had swings, a big field of red-top clover, a larger yard, and lots of trees.  With five of us, school chums came to play at our house.  What’s another dozen kids Daddy would say and for Momma, it had to be easier having us all there rather than scattered out to multiple places.  We lived in a rural area and our house as the gathering place saved our parents a lot of windshield time although it probably gave them a few extra prematurely gray hairs.

If there were ten or more of us playing hide-and-seek, we would count up to fifty.  If just my siblings and I, it went something like “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 – all good children go to heaven.  8, 9, and 10 – I’m not counting again.  Ready or not here I come!”  Such fun we had in finding the perfect hiding place in a short amount of time. Fun fizzled when the place so easily accessed was not so easy to get out of.  Calling out for help?  Not an option for the game continued.  Staying put?  Breathe through it.  We rallied to rescue our sibling without involving our parents.  If they knew we were hiding where we weren’t supposed to be playing, there would be whippings.

We have all experienced consequences to our actions, both good and not so good.  We have stretched, and sometimes broken, boundaries in the name of spreading our wings.  We have gotten ‘stuck’ between dumb and certainly not smart trying to do things on our strength and knowledge rather than asking for help.  Sometimes, we rally a cheering section to encourage us to stay stuck because we are comfortable there.  We keep our failures to ourselves because we don’t want to be embarrassed. 

Worst of all is getting caught doing something we shouldn’t be doing.  We know better.  We’ve been taught right and wrong.  We’ve been told to stay away, keep back, and move on from certain things, people, and places.  We hear but do we listen?  And when we get caught, do we hang our head in shame or shout back in defiance?  Do we admit our wrong and ask forgiveness?  Do we turn from our wrong and face the consequences of our actions?  Or, do we smile with understanding and do it again?

The Bible encourages us to pray and ask forgiveness for our sins; to repent of them.  To repent is a change of mind or purpose, a direction reversal from our current state.  To repent brings us to a penitent state or to be sorrowful, contrite, for sin or wrongdoing wanting to amend and atone for our actions.  It is not punishment but correction we receive when we ask forgiveness and truly repent. 

Not one of us makes it through the day without sinning in some way.  A constant battle against the flesh rages within a contrite heart.  We cannot hide from our wrong doing because it lives within us.  We cannot deny it for, frankly God already knows.  We pray and receive forgiveness because Jesus has set us free.  He took all our sins for all of us to the cross.  Nothing you do or say could make Him regret taking the punishment for you.  Nothing you can imagine or partake in can prevent Him from loving you.  Nothing on this earth can stop Him from wanting you with Him in eternity.  No man or law passed by man can overtake His word as truth.

Are you prepared for Jesus to return to take us home?  Have you admitted to Him you are a sinner in need of a Savior?  Do you believe in His redemptive work on the cross?  Have you asked Him to come into your life and change you? 

On that day when in the twinkling of an eye He arrives, I want to be doing His work.  Will you join me to be ready when He comes?   

Counting Costs

I am blessed beyond words for the grace and mercy of the county sheriff’s office.  I received a generous award from the motorcycle patrol this past week.  How is a ticket a blessing?  Glad you asked….

He could have stopped me a mile earlier, in a construction zone, with twice the fine.  He could have charged me with no proof of insurance for I had the old card in my wallet instead of the one that started the first of this month; instead he gave me a warning.  He could have added aggressive driving to the ticket requiring I appear in court.  Only one violation noted and the opportunity to pay the fine within a set period as well as reduce the points on my license blessed me.  The bigger blessing is that I did not cause harm to another or myself.  The biggest blessing - I recognize my failure.

  

I am a gentle soul with a loving and giving spirit…until I get in the car to drive.  It’s like a transformation occurs.  I become someone I do not know, and I definitely don’t like.  I qualify as a bully driver and act as if I’m the only one that knows the rules of the road.  The kind officer pointed out to me how delusional my thinking.  I was following too close.  Yes, I was.  The guy in front kept slowing down to reach for something in the front seat or drink from his go mug or talk on the phone.  I wanted him to get out of my way so I didn’t slow down as much as I should have.  I was not a safe distance behind him.  I was not even in a hurry to get somewhere!  But hey, he was in the fast lane, going under the speed limit, and I am the better driver, right?  WRONG!

How often do we feel we exhibit righteous anger at the actions of another?  How often do we lovingly point out to a teacher of the word they don’t have their facts straight?  How often do we purposefully not participate because it’s just not our thing?  How often do we discount the service of another in favor of our judgmental heart or critical spirit?  How often do we compare what others are doing to us doing better?  How far do we carry a grudge against someone? 

How genuinely do we put the other person’s feelings first?  How inconsistently do we stop and T.H.I.N.K. before we speak?  Are our words Truthful, Helpful, Inspirational, Necessary, ­and Kind?  How joyful are we in serving others?  How forgiving are we of ourselves and others?  How honest are we about our actions?  How quickly do we take it to God for guidance?

We see how others respond to our ‘helpful’ words and get angry when they speak harshly or treat us badly.  We choose not to recognize we hurt them in what we said and claim they stepped on our feelings.  We convince ourselves we are offering constructive input.  We determine we are not critical in spirit, and it’s their problem to handle.  We have become a society which focuses on fast food, instant responses, incoherent communications, and ourselves. 

I justified my bad behavior by offering excuses instead of asking forgiveness.  I determined to have my way instead of purposing in my heart to do what is right.  I pushed on when I should have backed off.  I blamed the person in front of me when it was me in error.  I’ve asked Jesus to take Lordship over that part of my personality.  It is abundantly apparent to me I haven’t surrendered it for I still did it.  I was wrong, and now I have to pay for it.       

  

Sin is like that too.  Oh, it feels good.  Why would we participate in it if it felt bad?  We hear that little voice telling us it won’t matter this one time.  But, we do it again and again until it becomes a part of us.  We know the world is okay with it for everybody else does it.  Are we really sure about that?  Is it everybody or is it just those we hang around with who are doing what our flesh wants to do?  It’s just a tiny little lie, so they feel okay about what we say.  It’s not like it hurts anyone, right?  It might mean the difference between life and death for eternity, so why would we be less than truthful about it? 

If we are doing something we shouldn’t and we feel no conviction then something is wrong with our hearts.  If we are not sharing the truth of God’s word and living out that truth, we could cause someone else to stumble.  Sin is sin, whether it’s a white lie or murder; it’s still sin to God.  We grieve the Holy Spirit when we sin.  We discount the cost Jesus paid for our sins.

In this week of the holiest remembrance of the resurrection of Jesus, let us reflect on who we are in Christ.  We are redeemed.  We are ransomed.  We are co-inheritors to the kingdom.  We are children of God.  We are forgiven of our sins.  We are saved from eternal death.  Most of all, we are loved!

If you have not yet accepted Jesus as your Savior and you’ve heard God’s word before, why are you waiting?  If you want to know more about God and what Jesus did for us, read the Bible.  If you need to hear the words to understand the teachings, there are audio Bibles.  There are links to several church sites provided in this blog.  They contain verse by verse, chapter by chapter teachings to encourage you.  There is also a link to blueletterbible.org to help you study God’s word by going deeper into the meaning of the Hebrew and Greek texts. 

Of all the promises from God, we are not given another day.  Of all the power of Jesus, we must welcome Him before He can save us.  Of all the urging of the Holy Spirit beside us, He cannot become a part of us until we accept Jesus as our Savior.  If yesterday is a memory, tomorrow is not promised, and every day is today, why not make this the day of your salvation?   

We are all sinners and fall short of the glory of God.  Jesus took our sins to the cross and paid for them with His blood.  He loves us so much He gave His life for us before we were born!  No sin, even murder, is too big for the cross.  Cry out to Jesus, bring your pain and fear to Him, lay it at His feet, ask forgiveness for it, and repent.  Tell Him you believe He died for you and rose again.  If you are sincere in your prayer, you are saved.  As a child of God, you are a co-inheritor to heaven!  We will stand before Jesus, and I will see you there.

Lord God, Thank You for Your love being a constant light in my life.  Thank You for never leaving or forsaking me, just as You promised.  I pray those reading these words cry out to You for salvation, today.  I pray they seek a relationship with You, call You Friend.  May the only time I follow too closely be in my walk with Jesus.  I love You and praise You for You alone are worthy of our worship.  In Jesus Name – Amen!  

Me Lucky Charms

Incredibly blessed in 2003, we celebrated our 15^th wedding anniversary at Waterford Castle in Ireland.  For two weeks, we toured the country gathering memories like the most precious of crystal treasures!  We ate shepherd’s pie at the Flesk in Killarney, a ham & cheddar sandwich on freshly baked bread in a public house, aka a pub, established in the late 1600’s in Cork.  We sipped in Galway, a pint for him and a Bushmill’s for me.  We savored the earthy aroma of a turf fire in Bundoran as we curled up to read with a cup of Irish tea and delightful soda bread.  We hiked along the cliffs of Moher, rode a jaunting car around Muckross House, explored uninhabited Innisfallen Island, and toured Trinity College where we saw handwritten and decorated pages of the Bible.  We listened to gypsy bands on Grafton Street and lingered at the fountains in St. Stephen’s Green.  We enjoyed a stroll along the quay in Dingle and got lost in County Tipperary ending up in Carrick On Suir.  Of all our adventures, Ireland holds a special place in my heart.  The fact I am Scot-Irish-Native American may have a wee bit to do with that.  But I believe it is the charm of the country, the hospitality of the people, and the luck of a life with a kindred soul sharing wanderlust.

From the time we stepped off the plane at Dublin International; we enjoyed the best of kindness from a culture of people ready to laugh spinning a tale to share a bit of themselves with the Yanks.  We chose a cab from the airport as flying all night and driving in a new city intimidated us.  Our first night at the Grafton House gave us a tiny glimpse of the quaint European charm awaiting us for the next two weeks.  We returned to the airport the next day, picked up a car and traveled around the island spending a night here or two there.  We visited countless archeological sites, ancient tomb portals called dolmens and castle ruins.  Our hearts entwined with the culture, the people, the lifestyle, we didn’t want to leave.  We knew we must, but we vowed we would return one day.

That day can no longer happen as he passed some time ago.  Those treasured moments are tucked away in a special part of my heart.  The memory of his laughter is a balm on my troubled soul as I recall the shared joy of exploration and discovery.  Thousands of priceless moments spin until I secure them away again.  Those loving moments of the man of my dreams soothes my sleep now.  How lucky I am for the loan of such a charming and funny soul-mate, one full of romance and a vast fount of historical knowledge.  Travel together was not just learning about new places and cultures, but an adventure! 

Though we never thought to see another sight as beautiful as Ireland, we visited some amazing places in our short time together.  God was having an exceptionally good week when He created this world for there are wonders words cannot express; you have to engage all of your senses living them as they happen.  A crashing wave on the Pacific coast accompanied by the piercing cry of an eagle or a perfumed trade breeze in the South Pacific islands while savoring sweet fruit juices, each carries a plaintive cry of our hearts.  Hearing an iceberg calf crash in the coastal waters of Alaska or the roar of a grizzly in Denali cannot compare to the untouched and quiet splendor of the tundra.  Sunrise over the Atlantic, noon over the plains of the Midwest, or sunset over the Rockies of the Southwest is not nearly as dramatic as seeing the light play over water, grain or mountains.  Each moment is but a glimpse of what awaits us. 

No tower in Paris, ruin in Mexico, castle in Ireland, or grand cathedral in any city anywhere will come close to the splendor of our mansions in heaven.  No priceless display in any museum in any part of the world will compare to those beautiful crowns we receive for serving His kingdom.  No carefully prepared and elegantly served meal will match the celebration at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.  No one can witness the innocence of a child’s smile, feel the arms of a loved one holding them close one last time or listen to the abandoned laughter of pure joy and continue to doubt. 

On this day of celebration where everyone claims a bit of Irish blood, I recall our Emerald Isle trip.  There are no leprechauns guarding pots of gold or lucky charms to attach to dreams, but treasured moments I hold most dear.  I know I will one day see my husband again, and we will be on an unending adventure in a place more beautiful than any I’ve ever seen or wanted to visit.  I will sing, laugh, and dance where the only man-made thing will be scars on the hands and feet of Jesus.  I will need no more salve for my hurts or tissues to wipe away the tears for I will be praising and worshiping my King with unfettered joy.  No wishes, no dreams, no memento from any earthly destination will compare to the jeweled reality of heaven.  I will be home, forever.  

Resistance Training or Endurance Testing?

I’ve never been much of a participator in sporting events.  Pushed to go outside and play, I would find a quiet spot in the shade to curl up and read.  At recess, I so disliked team events.  Always the last one chosen, I was self-conscious about being a klutz!  Grace was not visible in my coltish legs, flat bottom, and a chunky torso, so others tended to laugh at me.  The typical ‘running like a girl’ applied to me with few exceptions.  If the mad rooster or one of the bulls were chasing me, then I could top a two-minute mile easy!  I just preferred solo activities inside, and still do.

I am not a hit the gym daily hard body, but I used to go three or four times a week.  Across the street from my workplace and offering a discounted membership, it was a convenient, cost-effective, and enjoyable alternative to unwind after work.  Co-workers and friends encouraging each other reaped the health benefits through exercise, and I looked forward to it.

One of my friends and I were challenging each other on crunches.  We did five sets of twenty with a minute or two of rest in between.  This built up to sets of fifty followed by more sets.  Over a month or so, our endurance improved to completing five hundred crunches!  We felt great with our accomplishment and began some light weight training.  Then, I got laid off and had to let the membership go; a few months later my husband died and a few months after that I developed hypothyroidism.  The weight I lost returned….with friends and family….unwilling to leave!  A couple of years go by where my health improves as my faith strengthens.  I quit smoking.  A couple of weeks later we lost my Dad.  I didn’t go back to cigarettes, but I did increase the ice cream, and the weight increased in proportion to the amount of comfort I consumed!

The training and routine of regular exercise gave me discipline and energy.  I learned to enjoy working out with my girlfriends.  I miss the activity and the comradery.  I miss those jeans I no longer own.  Each day is easier than the day before to skip taking a walk or getting moving in some way.  Sitting in front of the TV with a bowl of something creamy and cold is such a habit I don’t even realize I’m doing it sometimes.  I’ve become so resistant to exercise; I can barely do ten crunches, let alone ten sets of fifty. 

Life can throw us off a steady pace.  Whether its illness, loss, financial challenges or a perceived lack of time, we drift away from our routine.  We miss opportunities or avoid them, to work toward a goal.  We fail to rally our cheering section to hold us accountable making it so very easy to skip a task we should be doing.  We lose out on celebrating accomplishments as we fall deeper into unhealthy habits.  We willingly walk away from doing what we know is right.

We do this with areas other than exercise too.  Expectations develop into temptations, pulling us into daily crazy.  We leave quiet time with God to later, only ‘later’ keeps getting pushed.  We allow ourselves to become overwhelmed with worldly pursuits until we collapse.  We promise God we will make it up to Him.  We are sincere in our justification that our lack of time with Him is just an anomaly until we rarely think of quiet time anymore.  We take advantage of new mercies daily as we continue to avoid spending quality time with God.  We have trained our resistance to excuse us.  We embrace our ‘new normal’ of missing time with God, and it grows.  Before we understand what we are doing, we skip attending church, miss fellowship opportunities, leave out Bible study, and prayer comes only when we are in trouble.  Each time is easier than the time before until we are fully in the world.  The fire for the Lord becomes a spark within us until it banks to a smoldering ember.

Eventually, we come to ourselves, or we get a well-deserved ‘God-smack’ to redirect our attention.  We realize how resistant we have become to doing what we know is right.  We cry out for forgiveness.  We pour out our heartbreak and pain for we know we have grieved the Holy Spirit.  We thank God for His faithfulness even when we drift away.  We rededicate ourselves to the pursuit of Jesus and ask the Holy Spirit to help us with our self-control.  We redefine our day to put God first; the fires burn brightly again, and everything else falls into place. 

I ask you, believer to believer, have you laid aside time with God to sleep a bit more or play a while longer?  Has it been so long you feel unworthy to approach Him?  He’s right there waiting for us to turn around.  Come as you are…we know we can.  Let’s live like we know where we are going to spend eternity, because we do.  Let’s be salt and light to a darkened world, as we are called to be.  Let’s love without reservation, forgive without requirement, for we are greatly loved and have been forgiven much.  Let’s quit resisting our training and let the testing of our endurance become enveloped with His loving grace!  

Rescued!

I am not the most graceful person in fact you might call me a klutz; my family does!  I am a girly-girl where my sisters were tomboys.  I am more about soft skills such as singing, reading, writing poetry where they were all about bike riding, sword fighting with sticks, and climbing trees.  They like playing in the dirt and having dirt clod battles where I am more about dolls and coloring books.  They are muscle and deep tans where I am fair and don’t like to sweat.  Ridicule often came to the one who preferred clean hands, trimmed nails, and fixed hair because I was a social moron to playing outside. 

Looking back, I see how it happened.  My best friend required subdued activities due to a heart condition.  We played together because her siblings were adults with kids of their own.  If her Momma got her a coloring book, I got one too.  If my Momma got me a doll, she got one too.  We played quietly and contentedly while my siblings and our friends ran in loud abandon.  It’s been almost 50 years since she went home to the Lord, and I can still hear her laughter, the lilt in her voice as we sang hymns together.  Some of those gentle activities remain as my favorite hobbies today.  Not as a tribute to one of the most gentle of souls I have ever known, but because of ‘conditioning’ to a less strenuous version of fun.

At one point, I guess I was about nine or ten, I decided it was time to learn how to fit in with my siblings.  We still wore dresses to play in, but I think that was a day I had not gone in to put on ‘play clothes’ prior to going outside.  My brother and sisters were on the limbs of a dogwood tree in the edge of the woods behind our house.  Encouraging me on where to put my feet, they directed my steps to climb with them.  It’s all fun and games until my slick bottom shoes caused me to slide right off the limb!  It’s not funny when I can’t reach the branch above to pull myself up, and my feet aren’t touching the ground.  I’m dangling, by the elastic of my underwear!!   

My siblings are doubled over with laughter because, we do that in my family…you fall, and it’s funny, we laugh as we help you up.  I’m crying from embarrassment and pain.  Not only can I not get out of my predicament, the tree had a knot where a limb had fallen off.  A rotting, and dirty, protrusion of wood stuck out from the trunk.  It caught on the inside of my knee and tore all the way up my leg, to my underwear.  One of my sisters finally realized I was in quite a difficult situation and she starting calling out to Daddy. 

Daddy came and lifted me off the tree.  He’s trying not to laugh as I cry into his shoulder.  He carries me to the porch and for the next few hours, Momma and I use peroxide and tweezers to get wood out of my leg.  In fact, splinters worked their way to the surface for a few years after that.  I carry a small bit of the scar today, and the family carries a moment of extreme humor to share with others.  Learned what not to do…monkey's climb trees and I don't qualify!

How often we have moments of laughter followed by extreme pain.  How often we play with abandon only to find, we are flirting with danger.  How often we listen to instruction of others that leads us into precarious situations.  How often the consequences of our actions are life lessons we never forget.

What do you do when you fall?  How do you hold on when you stumble?  When do you cry out for help?  Who do you call when you’re hanging by a thread? 

Our Heavenly Father is there for us in every situation.  Jesus was with me on that limb, and He kept me from hitting my head or breaking a bone.  He was with me as I cried with the cleaning of the wound.  He comforted me as I poured out my heart to Him about being a misfit.  He gently led me to stronger relationships with my siblings by helping them with homework or learning to read.  He taught me how to climb into His arms for instruction and correction.  He’s led me to a compassionate understanding of physical and emotional pain so I can listen to others as I pass a tissue, offer a hug or lift them in prayer.

Are you at the end of your rope?  Isn’t it time to reach for the saving hand of Jesus Christ?  He rescues those who believe He is God come to earth as the Word made flesh.  He died for us so we may be forgiven of our sins; so we may be in right relationship with God; so the Holy Spirit can live within us when we accept Him.  He prepares a place for us to spend eternity.  Jesus loves us so very much and He's waiting for you to answer His knock.  He will never leave you out on a limb, or hanging on by a thread.

"And the Lord, He is the One who goes before you.  He will be with you.  He will not leave you nor forsake you; do not fear nor be dismayed."  Deu 31:8

Well Done!

Our taste for particular foods is a conditioned response.  As children, we tend to eat as our parents do, or what they forced us to eat.  Case in point, my folks always cooked the vitamins out of vegetables, prepared meat well done, and got creative with leftovers. 

Have you ever smelled a bottle of vitamins?  By all means cook that unappetizing aroma of turnips and greens out of my veggies!  Is that why those and rutabagas are so ‘good for me'?  Hated them as a kid and intensely dislike them as an adult. 

Well done beef or pork is quite good if prepared and cooked properly, low and slow with minimal seasoning.  No need to turn them into a burnt offering.  It requires a bit of patience and planning, but melt in your mouth with no pink meat grilled to juicy perfection is an art. 

Being from the south where they fry butter, any vegetable, fruit, meat, or dessert, can be battered and dropped in hot oil.  Make it crunchy, and the kids will come.  Can't you just hear it…Johnny won't eat his grits, well fry them!  I draw the line at fried pickles though…yuck!

As an adult, I do prefer my beans or broccoli tender crisp and my steaks medium to medium-well.  The most laughs, or gags, occur with Cowboy/Cowgirl Stew.  Butterbeans with mayonnaise stirred in, and a biscuit crumbled over it, a creative leftover my Grandparents and my Momma used.  Hey, don't knock it ‘till you try it.  Five kids turning their noses up and whining over dried beans yet another day produced a need for some recipe ingenuity.  Since beans don't fry up very well, cream ‘em, name ‘em something different and the children have a hot lunch they enjoy.

Our leftovers in life are not always so easily repurposed, but using them for something unexpected is exciting.  How we choose to view them and incorporate them is specific to our call, our talents, and our gifts.  Sometimes it's leaving them behind or throwing them out to change directions, try a different recipe, or sing a new song.  How often have we held onto that last piece of something sweet only to later learn if we had given it up, we would have had something far more precious?  

Take my childhood memories for examples.  They qualify as leftovers.  I am an adult and cannot recapture those halcyon days of my youth where my biggest worry was falling out of a tree.  I can repurpose those memories into stories, poetry, or lyrics to bring glory to God.  He's called me to write, He's given me a ‘wee bit of talent for spinning a tale,' and those who know me well will concur, I have the gift of gab.  Mixing this together in a sweet offering to God is not just my goal, it’s my passion.  Learning and incorporating new knowledge to my walk keeps my eyes on Jesus.  Sharing these stories and insights with you applies His call, gift, and talent to me, for which I am most grateful.

He's not finished with me yet.  There's still His business to see to, His purpose to accomplish.  He stirs me up and pops me back on the fire of refinement.  He puts turnip greens in front of me and expects me to clean my plate.  Sometimes, He takes away something I hold dear.  His plans for me are so much bigger than any of my dreams, He replaces that lost with something pure and beautiful.  It's not always easy, and it's uncomfortable most of the time but I pray this leftover will one day hear, "Well done My child, welcome home."

"His Lord said to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things.  Enter into the joy of your Lord."  Mat 25:21 (NKJV)

Man Made Materials

With five growing kids, we got new shoes at times of the year when we could save money and get the most wear from them.  Easter dress shoes, summer flip flops, and school oxfords or tennis shoes were typical for us.  We didn’t want for footwear but, oh the dreams of this girly-girl to have shoes matching her outfits.

As a thirty-something, I attained a measure of that silly school girl dream.  One of the local discount stores had pumps for five dollars a pair.  I had at least ten different colors to match my dresses; how uptown I felt with a rainbow of shoes from which to choose!

One day I had on the red pumps as I stopped by the mall on the way home from work.  With errands to accomplish, I was rushing through one business after another.  Roughly thirty minutes into my task, it felt like I was walking on white-hot coals covered with scalding water.  Miserable, I was tempted to take those pretty, little shoes and throw them in the trash.  Instead, I stepped into a shoe store.

Explaining my dilemma to the salesman, he asked to see one of my shoes.  He pointed out the ‘all man-made materials’ label.  He told me my feet were overheating from the lack of breathable material.  I told him I wanted a pair of leather dress pumps in flat black, as opposed to shiny patent leather, with heels no higher than 2 ½” and under $50.  I gave him my size thinking no way would my feet go back in those cheap shoes.

When I got home, the kaleidoscope of shoes in the floor of my closet went out the door.  Inexpensive they may have been, but there were ruining my tootsies.  Believe me when I say, if your feet hurt, you get a bit grumpy.  I didn’t want to ruin my sunny disposition because of sore feet.  A $49 investment over twenty-five years ago continues to reap dividends today.

I attended a private Methodist funded college.  One of the required courses designed to raise awareness of different religious doctrine while increasing our tolerance level to other views was World Religions.  As much as I disliked the exposure to all this propaganda, I’m glad I took the class.  The enlightenment has served me well throughout the thirty plus years since then. 

Know what I found that semester?  All but one religion were founded and developed by a man; all but one present writings inspired and written by that same man.  All but one requires we ‘earn’ our way to a better future.  Some even offer the option of a ‘do-over’ to try again to obtain the next level up in the structure of society.  But, if you messed up in this life, you might return at a lower level. 

Some have so many rules none of us could ever measure up!  Some are more intolerant than I could ever be yet they call me narrow-minded or want to kill me for believing different from them.  Some have multiple gods of men or women possessing some super human strength or beauty.  If you don’t believe me, research it, you can find all the information on the web.  There are those we’ve heard of and some not so well-known, far too many to list here.  Using the phrase, ‘origins of world religions’ for the search, we get a history timeline of world religions and its founders with over sixty-five entries.

Christianity is the only religion based on one God; the only religion where the text has been proven again and again through archeological finds.  Our God inspired the written word, guiding His elect to pen the knowledge so we know how to live.  God’s word tells us in 2 Timothy 3:16, “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” 

God doesn’t need us but He wants us, “For God so loved the world He sent His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.  For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”  John 3:16-17  What a beautiful gift.  Free without strings to earn it or to keep it!    

Only one investment continues to pay dividends throughout eternity – Jesus.  Isn’t it time to focus on the only proven truth?  Is now the time to not only accept the insurance but revel in the assurance of your future?  Is this the day to throw out those man-made materials for real, abundant, life? 

“Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through Me.”  John 14:6 (NKJV)  

Muck Out the Stall

Growing up on a small farm where we raised vegetables and animals to supplement the food stores, we all had daily chores.  We could be in a snowstorm or planning a special event, but tending to the animals and the gardens came first.  Then we could play.  I do believe this structure of ‘working to eat’ is where we all got the ethics we exhibit today with our jobs.   

Part of our fun would sometimes be the task, such as riding the fence line.  Now done with ATV’s, we had horses then.  Horses require special care to prevent them from harm.  Brushing and feeding them brought great fun but cleaning out the stalls?  Not so much.

They had to have fresh hay and soft dirt on which to stand or their feet could become damaged.  Everything had a purpose, and if we could no longer ride them, they would have to go.  None of us wanted to lose the horses, so we took turns mucking out those stalls.

Our Mom and Grandmothers would put this stuff we cleaned out of the barns in their gardens, always abundant with sweet smelling blooms.  How they worked those flower beds as regularly as they tended the vegetable gardens!  They grew a variety of plants that bloomed throughout the year.  The fertilizer no longer seemed so bad when the fragrance of the flowers perfumed the air.  Without fertilizer produced by the horses, roses are weak in fragrance and pale in color…the women in our family had the most verdant rose gardens.

Daddy and our uncle owned broadcasters, or in simple farm folk lingo a manure spreader. They filled it up and hooked it to the tractor.  They pulled this monstrosity around the pastures, distributing the organic material.    This not only enriched the soil, it aided in protection against erosion.  It helped to control weeds as the grass roots penetrated deeper from this soil enhancement.  No water pollution creation from this natural substance and the smell?  It went away, eventually.

We all have muck in our lives.  Some of it stinks more than others, but it is all dirty.  We must continue to refresh and refine because we live in a fallen world.  We must repeatedly clean out the refuse lest we become too comfortable.  It will destroy us if we remain standing in it.   

Accepting Jesus as our Savior is the first step to cleaning out the filth in our lives.  We realize then what grieves God, and we want it gone.  As we keep getting rid of the sin in our lives, God blesses us for we are submitting to His will.  As we learn more of salvation, we grow deeper roots in the foundational truths of all God has for us.  As we fellowship with believers, we bloom into a beautiful mix of love and forgiveness to share with others.   

God uses our muck, the ugliness, and the sins to lead us to witness, especially to those who have no hope.  He gives us assurance so we may comfort others.  We share our testimonies not because we are good, but because we understand how bad we were before Jesus saved us.  We spread the good news of Jesus because it is God’s desire that none should perish.  We are loved and forgiven much.  With a thankful heart and a joyful spirit, we share this beautiful truth with others.  As we mature in our walk, we accept Jesus as our Lord.  We willingly give up those things that are not glorifying to Him or the advancement of God’s Kingdom. 

We are imperfect.  We make mistakes.  We find we must muck out those stalls again, and again.  The fragrance of Christ envelops us as we transform from the mire to the Christian God wants us to be.  The perfume of His righteousness will fully develop once we are in heaven.  In the meantime, we ask forgiveness for our sins every day because we have direct access to God through Jesus. We focus on the future; we cling to the hope and assurance of where we will spend eternity.  Our life here is short and fleeting as we long for our forever home.

I ask you to take a moment to inventory your life.  Do you need hope to fill your heart?  Do you need to forgive or be forgiven?  Do you want to have assurance of your eternity?  Do you feel like something is missing in your life?  Is joy something for which you long but it always seems just outside of your grasp?  

Salvation is free and simple to anyone who accepts Jesus as their Savior.  Embrace His love and forgiveness.  Pray to Him, believe in Him.  

Repentance of sin will come once you have welcomed Jesus into your heart.  He will show you and guide you.  Then, He will help you muck out those stalls!