Be Still and Know

This morning, I awoke kind of unsettled. I wandered around in the dim early morning light and gave the cats a snack. Then I poured coffee and settled in my chair with shades drawn. It wasn’t time for light. Yet. I felt “Meh” and I didn’t feel like praying. I just sat. Sometimes just the act of being still is exactly what God wants us to do in that moment. So, I just sat. Just so happened that my dial landed on Ecclesiastes today for my reading plan. Perfect. God has a sense of humor, I knew that but sometimes you need to be reminded.

“Cease striving…….”

And don’t we continue to strive even when we are sitting still? Our minds are almost never inactive. As I settled into the quiet, (in my funk) I sensed the presence of the Holy Spirit, and I remembered another morning. He reminded me of when I was so irritated at the traffic noise, and He prompted me to transform my irritation into an offering of prayer. And so, I did. I prayed for every car I heard and the person behind the wheel. I started to feel a love for all those people hurrying wherever they were going, and all the problems and heartaches (and joys) behind each life. Then I heard the train come through and I prayed for everyone on it. I was transformed.

Even now, when I hear the traffic, I hear something different because when you allow God to work, He can change our normal everyday irritations into something much different. And I could ache like I do, for the pines or the ocean and go to go that quiet place, even my closet, and find that I have come out refreshed as if I had just spent time watching the waves crash upon the shore or hearing the wind making the pines sigh.

God uses what we have. And sometimes what we have is not much, but God is God so He can make our nothing into something if we invite Him with only a whisper of a prayer or an almost thought we don’t even remember thinking.

Then, one more thing happened as I sat down to write this blog. I heard David Nevue play “The Lion and the Lamb” and that song always wiggles me because it takes me back to when blogging was new and we were all like neighbors visiting at the back fence or on the porch conversing over a steaming mug of coffee. Those times were so sweet that it almost hurts to remember. But not in a bad way.

Friends, I hope you can glimpse a bit of eternity today. Pause and remember how it must have been when it was all so new. And how it can be right now as you invite God into your everyday normal and precious life.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:2

Finally Home

Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all his benefits: who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with loving kindness and tender mercies……Psalm 103:2-4

The Rumba is working its way around the house, and I have two little kitties nearby. They have finally settled after wrestling and bouncing off the walls for the past 3 hours. One is sitting in the decorative bowl on the table and one right beside him. When we got them, they both fit! “They” are Atticus and Scout, respectively, and a constant source of joy, having been cat less since Briggs died in 2020. 

This is retirement, the first week in. Several times over the past few days, I have found myself in a state of wonder at how incredibly blessed I am, how at peace, how content. On my first walk around the park where our new (refurbished) home is situated I dug out my old iPod and selected the playlist I used to walk Desert Harbor in Arizona. It was like I was home, really home. 

Living in a very small space for the past 8 years really makes you appreciate the everyday things. A new washer and dryer that we almost worshipped the first few weeks. No more laundromat! Our own garbage can, for another. We never used the can at Aunt’s house because she was very fussy about her garbage. 

I’m home, I’m home, I’m home and I never have to move again. What a feeling……I can scarcely describe it. God is so good. At first, we kind of poo-pooed this park. It wasn’t as “perfect and pristine” as we liked. We had our eye on another in a neighboring town. It was well-kept and the space rent was lower. There were a few that came up for sale but inside repairs would have been costly. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Elaine wasn’t sold when we looked at this place, but I secretly thought “I could live here.” There was a kind of strange room off the living room. Back in the day it might have been called a “family room,” separating both sides of the house. Elaine turned in circles and exclaimed, “What is this room?” I am happy to say that it has become a beautiful library. (Pictures to follow in another post) Wayfair is our new best friend. Of course, you have to build whatever you buy and thankfully Elaine is very talented. I was the assistant handing tools and fetching screws and bolts.

First, we made an offer which they didn’t accept. Then it fell through twice more. We made another offer, with concessions and it was accepted. 

Here’s another strange thing. Over and over, I have had this dream for years of two big closets. I just go from one to the other with a sense of amazement in the dream. Well, yes, you guessed it. I have two walk-in closets. Thank you, Jesus! The second walk-in has become the litter box room and storage for Christmas.

Each day, I wake up so very, very thankful. Life is good on a Sunday morning in June. 

But I have trusted in your mercy; My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. Psalm 13:5,6

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The morning is quiet and the mockingbird sings, picking up the same endless melody he closed with last night.

David Nevue hymns play softly in the background and I am praying for my nieces little cat who is very sick. Seems to be something she ate. There are little teeth marks in the interlocking rubber floor mats in the bedroom. And now there is a big bill, but that pales in comparison to a girl who is heartsick. Oh Lord, sometimes we just get tired of all the sorrow. The world is weary. We are weary too. 

As I sit here amidst my tears there is a joy deep down resting at the bottom of my soul, in a feathered nest. It’s that quiet peace God gives. The living promise that He will never leave us or forsake us. That there is still joy for the taking. The assurance that in the end, all will be well.

I walk outside and see yet another mangled baby bird that will never sing a note. This is the fourth. Why do things have to die? I guess sometimes things can be rescued and sometimes they can’t. I think of the little mouse I saved one morning. Two bluejays were attacking it mercilessly. They would pick it up in their sharp beaks and then drop it to the ground. The mouse was terrified and when I went to pick it up it squeaked in fright. The poor thing didn’t know I was trying to save it.

I could feel its little heart beating in my gloved hand, and then it was my turn to be a little afraid. What if it ran up my sleeve? I hurriedly carried the stunned little creature to safety and settled it beneath some shrubs. I wonder if that’s how God feels about us? We fight so hard when He’s only trying to save us from ourselves. 

He looks down at the way we’ve chosen to mangle our world, our lives, and then He watches as we walk right past the gate that would swing wide and welcome us in.

He longs to pick us up and settle us in the only place we will only ever find peace and safety? “Rest my child,” He beckons. Finally, exhausted by all our own efforts, we collapse at His feet. He welcomes us, takes us as we are.

He’s the God of second, third, seventh, one-thousand chances. This morning I didn’t think I had any words at all. But God supplied a few, as it turns out.

The  train sounds in the distance, life propels forward. And the joy outweighs the sorrow once again. Despite everything, we have hope.  Pray with me friends? That a little cat a girl loves will be okay today.

A World in Pause Mode

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Life has been suspended and I can’t help feeling that for once, on this day it feels right. I remember as a kid when things closed and everyone flocked to church at noon on Good Friday. I also remember being glad when it was rainy or cloudy because that also seemed right on this day of days.

“Oh Jesus, what you went through so that we could have forever with You. When the shadow of the cross fell it reached all the way to Heaven and even silenced the Angels. They had never seen the Father hide His face from the Son. Ever. But that day was unlike any other day that will ever happen again.”

This shutdown has not been without benefit, in every adverse situation the good arises like a sweet perfume. The weeds grow along with the seeds, it’s just that the weeds are visible right away. But the good seeds are working their magic down below where we can’t see.  I believe we will have a lasting benefit from this time.

We will remember the quiet times, the books we read. The times spent talking, learning new games, getting to know each other again. Maybe all this family time, cooking and eating together, stretching our imaginations and praying more will have a lasting effect. Not to mention going a little bit crazy. 

What I’ve been learning from all this is what I have taken for granted, the simple little things. I have always been a person who has been intentional about not doing this and yet, I have realized that to some extent, I have. Who ever thought hugging someone we love would feel like a luxury, a risk, something forbidden.

Each morning. I have tried to go outside at first light and celebrate a little resurrection. I close my eyes and concentrate on all the noises I hear. It’s a blessing to have these mornings at home. Not having to get ready for anything. Downtime. Then there’s the downside.

Honestly some days it feels a little bit like the shadow of death is hovering all around us. Seeing loved ones only from a distance. Not being able to go, to help, to do. So close, so far away.

I’m thankful I have had someone (thank you E) to laugh and cry with during all this. It’s been a blessing to help those in our circle who are alone. 

I’m reminded in Scripture that this is only a light and momentary affliction. The other side of eternity stretches much further than we can see right now, but it’s still there, waiting for us. Because of the horrible, awfulness Jesus went through for us. Because He loves us.

The Trinity worked a beautiful plan my friends, and we can all partake of it. This pandemic will pass, but what will not pass is the empty tomb. It stands open and glowing with hope. Today we remember how our Savior was battered and bloody beyond recognition but on Sunday we remember how Satan was defeated.

Death has indeed lost its sting. Again. Thanks be to God.

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This is the mysterious thing about prayer.  It often happens even when you’re not intentionally trying to pray. It’s like riding a bike. If you thought about everything that goes into it you would probably not get yourself down the road. It’s like the other morning, wide awake at 2:00 AM. “I should pray,” I thought. “Why can’t I be more like those “Holy” people who get up and pray and seek God in the middle of the night instead of finding something to eat or drink or read?”

And this is the crazy thing. I got up and started talking to God about just that. Sometimes the best prayer sessions start when you’re not even trying. You’re just talking to the God who created you. Who knows us better than we know ourselves.

It’s reawakening to the knowledge that as believers, we stand saturated by Grace.  And that Grace never leaves us. Not even when we feel undeserving of it. We know we are undeserving and that leaves us breathless with thanksgiving once again.

This is the intimacy the Psalmists knew:

In the morning O Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.” Psalm 5:3

But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.” Psalm 13:5

For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling.” Psalm 116:8

And my favorite:

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thought from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down. You are familiar with ALL my ways. Psalm 139:1-3

I like to think prayer is what happens while we’re making plans to pray. You don’t have to have just the right setting or the right moment. The time is right now, today. In every moment; every time we thank Him for the weather, the birds, our health. Prayer is giving words to our very breath, as Acts 17 says: “In Him we live and move and have our being.”

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted and it feels good. If I can only move one person closer to knowing God with my words, then it’s all worth it.

What a Day that will be

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(Photo credit, someone’s cat Google images) Gotta love that face.

One week until Christmas break and I can hardly believe it. Life continues to ebb and flow around us here. Elaine lost her favorite cousin. She found out last night as we were sitting having dinner and I was so glad she wasn’t alone when she heard the news. This was a man who had me in stitches when we visited him in the place of her birth, San Angelo, Texas. He could have had a career as a stand up comic. His comic timing was a gift and along with that Texas twang, he was a natural. The first time I met him he came to add a room on her folk’s house. We walked up dressed in our Arizona casual clothes and he turn from the ladder and said………”Well, I thought you were gonna work? How you gonna work in those golfin britches???” I may have not got that quite right but you get the gist.

Because of my interest in seeing the Monastery he knew of we drove and drove on miles of dusty road until we found it in the middle of nowhere. They waited until I wandered around and took pictures and met the Nun where I got a pamphlet and got to see the Sanctuary. Actually, I think it all started because I wanted to see his goats. We met his son there (who has also since passed on) and I also took many baby goat pictures. At the time we regretted a day spent driving for miles, but now I am so glad we did that. It will always be a precious memory.

Here today and in Heaven the next minute. I say that because Gerry knew his Savior and I am so thankful for that. “What a day that will be,” as my Mom’s Aunt was known to say. I was thinking of the lyrics to that song that was sung at her funeral and here are some of the words:

There is coming a day when no heartaches shall come
No more clouds in the sky, no more tears to dim the eye.
All is peace forevermore on that happy golden shore,
What a day, glorious day that will be……

What a day that will be when my Jesus I will see, and I look
Upon His face, the One who saved me by His grace;
When He takes me by the hand and leads me to the Promised
Land, what a day, glorious day that will be…..

As for me. My writing has been minimal. The natural flow of words I once enjoyed has stopped. But I have learned there are all kinds of seasons. I just have to wait in my own advent of waiting. I do continue to pray in the wee hour before work.
Everyone who knew me at Desert Harbor knew that I prayed for the air conditioner to keep working. We were one of the last to have the original unit. When we left it was still running.

Now I pray for my car. The 12 year old bug’s windows sometimes don’t want to go up all the way. The lock that was on the glove box broke off. The other day the engine light went on and I prayed that it would go off and it did. I just keep saying, “You gotta keep this car running Jesus, it’s paid off!” It still looks good. In fact, the other day I found a note on the windshield wiper that said to give him a call if I want to sell it. My buggy is not for sale. We have a lot of miles between us, and I’m not ready to give it up.

Blessings and grace to you this Christmas from my prayer closet. Lori

Hope for the Mustard Seed Prayers

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Recently we traveled back to where this blog started, where my prayer was most alive. It was good to be there. The downside was the mustard was blooming, it was beautiful but I think it was really wreaking havoc with my sinuses. I wasn’t acclimated to it as I used to be. As my Grandmother used to say in German, “With beauty comes suffering” or some such thing. The mustard plants made me think of what Jesus said about having faith as small as a mustard seed:

“You don’t have enough faith,” Jesus told them. “I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, “Move from here to there, ‘ and it would move. Nothing would be impossible.” Matt. 17:20

I don’t know about you but that verse has always made me feel a little doomed. Who actually expects that they could move a mountain with a prayer? What did Jesus mean? I can imagine the disciples being a little exasperated. And yet when He sent them out two by two, they came back exhilarated…….the lame walked, demons cast out, hearings occurred right and left.

And later, when the Holy Spirit came upon them at Pentecost they found that their prayers did indeed produced great miracles. In fact, people had only to grab their garments and they were healed!

What does this mean for us today? Does this mean that we shouldn’t even pray? No indeed. It means that we should always pray for God to help our unbelief and increase our faith. Prayer transforms us from the inside out. There are so many people I know whose prayers began with: “If you are there Lord…….” Or just plain, “Help me, Lord!”

It means that God blesses even little scraps of faith. He takes those tiny seeds of hope and prayer that we send up and answers us with an assurance that He does indeed hear. In fact, He loves it when we acknowledge Him, however insignificant our words may seem. He can take that mustard seed and change a heart, change a life, and yes, move mountains in our lives. I have seen way too many lives changed (including my own) to not believe in prayer, however small and weak my faith might be.

Keep on praying. I can assure you that you will be blessed by God opening up a canyon in your heart. I love these quotes from Frederick Buechner:

According to Jesus, by far the most important thing about praying is to keep at it. The images He uses to explain this are all rather comic, as though he thought it was rather comic to have to explain it at all. He says God is like a friend you go to borrow bread from at midnight. The friend tells you in effect to drop dead, but you go on knocking anyway until finally he gives you what you want so he can go back to bed again.

Believe Somebody is listening. Believe in miracles. That’s what Jesus told the father who asked him to heal his epileptic son. Jesus said, “All things are possible to him who believes.” And the father spoke for all of us when he said, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:14-29)

May your day be peaceful. Talk to God today, even if you are not sure He’s there or even listening. You will be blessed!

Easy like Sunday morning

 

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The Arizona desert opened a space in my soul that I haven’t quite been able to capture here. After two years (can it be that long?) I am still trying to find my prayer “sweet spot.” But it’s okay. I have learned there is a reason for everything on God’s good earth.

It is beautiful here, no doubt. And today as I stood by the banks of the river I saw the little “V” in the water that signifies something is swimming. He was on the opposite bank, my little river otter. He was without his friends, and I wonder where they are. There was usually a pack of three or four. I watched as he climbed the bank opposite me and took a luxurious roll in the dirt. The whiteness of his chest gleamed against his brown body. Then he padded over to the bank and swam away. The cat we call Weigumina saw him and perked up. (We call her that because a man named Vern Weigum parked his old 1955 Belair here and she used to sun underneath it) Weigumina seemed to fit her.

We have been settled now at my Aunt’s property by the Mokelumne River since we moved here in September of 2016. The river has been low and is filling up once again with Spring coming. This place has become home for us. The Motorhome now is graced with a beautifully crafted wood table (made by Elaine). She has resurrected my Uncle’s shop and is using her God gifts all kinds of ways here. It has been a very good thing for her and for those of us blessed enough to be the recipients of her talents.

And God found me a job. I have no doubt about that since He uttered those words to me in prayer that I wrote about in an earlier post. Those words were:

Be still and rest easy in my Grace.

I am now working with preschoolers in my old Elementary school. I confess I never thought that would be my retirement job. It has been so surreal working there, at the place where all my formative years happened. And the very same place where my Aunt was school secretary all those years ago.

Life is good. I occasionally cry and feel sad about all our stuff in storage. I miss it. I miss the home we had, and this month when we travel back there for a few days, I will see that old home and I don’t know how I will handle it. I know I won’t want to go in. But I also know that it will be good to see old friends who will welcome us with open arms and food and drinks, and there will be stories and laughter.

But I also know our place is here right now. And it really has been a blessing. So that’s my story today. God is here, and He is working in our lives and until He calls us Home like He did Billy Graham recently we will keep looking to Him for direction. He has never left us and never will. That’s the hope I give you today.

Give Him your life, I guarantee you will never be bored. God can open up an expanse in your soul as big as the sky that holds all the stars in the Arizona sky. Drink from the well that never runs dry. Jesus is that well.

The world has so much to offer, but without God those things will always fall short of filling up a withered and starving soul.

Signing off for now……..peace from the river.