Christian living
A Mama’s Prayers
and gather them from the ends of the earth.
Among them will be the blind and the lame,
expectant mothers and women in labor;
a great throng will return.
They will come with weeping;
they will pray as I bring them back.
I will lead them beside streams of water
on a level path where they will not stumble,
because I am Israel’s father,
and Ephraim is my firstborn son.
Change a comin……
The relentless heat has tired us all out, even the birds. The desert is waiting for change, waiting to be relieved from the oppressive grip of summer which will surely come, it always does. Just not when we’re ready. In the desert, you live by its rules, not your own. But there are ever so slight whispers of it nonetheless.
This morning I sat outside and there was a breeze and it was bearable. Enjoyable. I sat there thanking the Lord for moments of peace and time off after a challenging work week. The garden yielded a beautiful watermelon yesterday. When I think that this patch of green was a patch of dirt not too long ago, I think of what God does with our lives, that is when we let Him.
Elaine is off to Texas for a few days for a cherished and much anticipated visit with her Aunt Billie Ruth and her cousin Sandra. Billie Ruth is 88 years young, still active doing tours for local historical buildings and spending hours in the library doing genealogy research for others.
I have been alone with Elaine’s Mom and it has been interesting. She keeps asking where Elaine is, and I keep giving the same answer. We are both learning steps to a new dance, neither one is us sure of the steps. But so far, so good. The hygiene issue is ongoing though, and I never thought I would be thankful for the absence of the sense of smell, but at times like this it does come in handy.
Work is stressful right now, and though I have a few days off now, work looms large on Thursday. The biggest challenge? How can I glorify the Lord in a place where I am fearful and anxious?
I feel it sapping my emotional, mental, and creative strength, nipping at my heels even when I am not there. And even though I am so very thankful for this time off that replenishes, Thursday feels like a steamroller and each day brings me closer to its flattening shadow.
Yet, when I think of all that the Lord has brought me through there from my very first day until now, and how He has been with me with every step, it humbles me greatly.
This will be my seventeenth year there, and while there have been countless anxiety ridden moments and nights where I have tossed and turned with worry, there have also been countless victories, and God has brought me some wonderful friends I would never have met otherwise. Friends who I know will be with me for life.
All along, each worry and fear has been calmed and tempered by His gracious Spirit who has been with me every moment, and with me still. Somehow He always keeps the wave from engulfing me totally and until such time as I am able to walk out the door for good, I want to be faithful with what He has given me.
The only possible way is by leaning on Him. Totally.
And to keep a count of all the good, and there is much that is……….cool morning breezes, whispers of rain that hit my window, fresh melon from the garden, Elaine being able to make this trip, that my niece loves her new school, a wonderful Birthday, telephone conversations with friends and family that always lift spirits, fresh batch of books via Amazon, His daily grace raining down even when I don’t deserve it, words that somehow come together, time off……..always grateful for that. #922-932
Lattes in Church
It’s a curious phenomenon. Ever since bigger churches have started adding bookstores and coffee stands, I have noticed more and more people carrying their lattes into church. It kinda bugs me. Now, anybody that knows me, knows I have a passion for coffee and books. Nobody loves them more than I do, I just think there is a time and place for everything. Maybe it’s the Baptist in me. I think they should be able to put their latte down for an hour or so, at least in church.
Here in the desert, it is very hot and very dry, so I totally understand a bottled water in church. After all, the Pastor may have need of it. He might just have a coughing fit right in the middle of the sermon, or have a bad case of cotton mouth. You could be the hero, offering your water. But coffee is a leisurely drink. Something to have in the fellowship hall (remember those?) after church, with a bad store bought cookie or donut.
To be honest, I even have mixed feelings about having those places on the church premises, although I frequent them myself. It is confusing. I know the money goes to good causes, but even so, my legalistic side imagines Jesus coming in with a whip and tipping over the coffee cart and scattering books everywhere.
I know, I am mixed up.
That’s why I blog, to share my mixed up feelings with my fellow believers, and anyone else who will listen. I have some hangups, I know. I just feel a certain decorum and reverence should accompany church attendance, and yet I love it when our Pastor uses YouTube videos to illustrate a sermon point. And I love that he uses an iPad.
I definitely believe in laughter and humor at church. My Grandmother on the other hand, didn’t think laughter and church belonged in the same sentence. She also didn’t think there should ever be any guitars or drums involved at any time during worship and certainly no clapping or raised hands. She didn’t think church was the place to show any joy or expression of any kind.
She believed in paying attention……well, she paid attention mainly to what everyone else was doing. She sighed loudly in church and embarrassed us all. Bless her heart.
She also picked the quietest time to unwrap her Reed’s peppermint candy and offer one to everyone else in the pew. It also bothered her that after Amy got her divorce, she was still allowed to be the church organist. I can still hear her to this day……”She should be in the back of the church….”
Well, now you can understand why I have all these conflicting feelings about how church should be and how you should behave in it. Just last Sunday, I saw two of the shortest skirts I have ever seen, at church. I want to ask them, “Do you know where you are?”
And I am still surprised when I see tattoos in church, though I shouldn’t be. I do, however believe in drums, and guitars and raising my hands and laughing in church.
After all, if being saved from hell and living forever with Jesus isn’t a reason to rejoice, I don’t know what is.
Maybe I need to sit in the back of the church with Amy the organist.
Every Moment Counts
The race worth running
I sometimes think of her when I see a little girl of four or five. She was my Grandma and Grandpa’s first child. I have her name in between my own first and last, and maybe that’s why I wonder after so many years, who and what she would have become.
That day must have started out like any other. Rising early, they would have had their chores. My Grandmother had given Annie a task, to put the wood on the stove and dry it out. Annie forgot about it, as a five year old will and Grandma had scolded her. After that she went outside to play with the little boy, a foster child they had taken in.
And propped up against the building was the shotgun my Grandfather had left out. Back in those days you needed guns handy then, kept loaded for coyotes, wolves…..predators that would attack your cows, horses, chickens.
The boy picked it up meaning no harm, they just were playing after all. And he was so young himself, he couldn’t have known what he was doing. He pointed, and the gun went off, hitting Annie in the stomach and I can’t even think of what my Grandfather thought as the shot rang out. I can scarely imagine the horror of what they found.
Back then, there were no ambulances, no 911, no cell phones, no help.
My Grandmother, held her as she suffered and died. And my Grandfather, grief stricken, went after the boy and couldn’t find him. And oh how he must have suffered a lifetime of guilt after that, for leaving that gun out. I am not sure my Grandmother ever forgave him.
He died when he was only 64, of stomach cancer when I was only two. He loved me, I know this for sure. He called me his “Blonden Engel,” that’s blonde-haired angel in German and I hope that when he looked in my eyes, he saw a bit of her. I hope that I eased his pain just a little bit, this good and Godly man who always asked strangers if they knew the Lord.
And I think of my Grandmother, and how she must have felt holding her little girl and knowing there was nothing at all she could do to save her. And of the guilt she must have felt the rest of her life for scolding her that day. And I wonder about that poor boy who fled. How his life turned out……he was never found or heard from again to my knowledge.
I think of the current battle over gun ownership and gun control, and how passing laws and restricting gun ownership will never keep accidents from happening, or madmen from going on shooting sprees. The criminals will still have them.
And in the final analysis, it’s not guns or gun control that will ever save us, it’s Jesus.
Always Jesus. And no matter how hard or crazy things get in this world? He assures me it’s worth it. Because of Annie, because of my Grandpa, because of so many others.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. Hebrews 12:1
Chicken Wars
They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit. Jeremiah 17:8
Chick-fil-a boss Dan Kathy has been taking a lot of flack these days for coming out and saying that he supports the traditional view of marriage. And those who exercised their own free right to support someone who was exercising their free right to free speech by going to buy a chicken sandwich yesterday are taking the flack too.
Yesterday, we didn’t see anything at all uncommon. We saw Americans doing something that has been part of our culture ever since a group of rabble rousers threw some tea overboard in the Boston harbor. They were putting action behind their beliefs. Taking a stand….backing up someone they wanted to support.
Independence and individuality is something that flows through the veins of our country’s DNA. It is built into our constitution and framework of our entire belief system. But it is not always easy to know when to step up and when to back down. At what point do we act on our beliefs?
Do we act on them even if by doing so we further widen the gulf between differing views by making it about “us” versus “them?” Someone has to be the enemy. Someone has to be wrong.
Many of the comments I read opposing the support of Chick-fil-a were very troubling. It seems many people have very definite, and in my view, warped ideas about Christianity and Christians in general, most of them not favorable, some of them outright disturbing.
We were labeled, fundamentalist, racist, gluttonous, stupid, ignorant, hateful, uneducated and uninformed. And the Westboro Baptist Church kept popping up in comments, as though all Christians should be branded with that particular (and I use the term very loosely) church.
You could argue the point that if the church and Christians in general had done a better job historically of loving and reconciling people of differing viewpoints maybe this all wouldn’t be an issue. But then again, no one ever loved and forgave and tried to reconcile more than Jesus, and they crucified Him for it.
Because they didn’t want to hear the truth. They didn’t want to be told what they were doing was wrong. Lets face it, none of us does.
And the very same spirit that existed then, continues to wreak havoc in the world today. He is our true enemy, and he has only one goal. To Kill, To Steal, To Destroy……Lives. That’s been his goal from the beginning.
Hurting people sometimes strike out against something they may not even fully understand themselves. The enemy is the spirit behind the hate, and it is he who we must fight, always. Never the individuals.
There is a war we are in. But it’s not us against them. It is God against all sin whatever the flavor.
Are you ready?
From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.“You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” John 6:66-69
I had just finished reading John chapter 6 during my prayer time a few mornings ago. I closed my eyes as I digested all I had read……this chapter is swirling with action. I needed to reflect for a moment on all I had read. It was just getting light out and I heard a dove calling from a few houses away. My little candle was flickering away silently casting a reflection in the little shop window.
I was surprised by a question that was breathed into my heart…..I had just read that saddest of verses, the one where many of Jesus disciples hit the road. It was another instance where Jesus had just finished confounding people with the truth, and it wasn’t want they wanted to hear.
“Are you ready to be my Disciple?” that was the question I heard.
I sat there conflicted. “Of course I am,” I thought. But then I remembered how many of them ended up.
And what was required. Am I ready to take a plunge off a 500 foot drop? Am I ready to commit the rest of my life to a God who commands the wind and the rain? Who can speak the world into existence? Who is many times unpredictable and scary? Am I ready to go wherever He asks? Wherever He leads?
Then I thought about life itself. If someone would have asked me when I came into this world, knowing what I know now, all I would go through, would I have so been quick to say, “Bring it on?” I most likely would have said no, I am not ready. Who is ever ready?
But do I want to do it anyway, also knowing what I know now? And has it been worth it thus far?
To that I can give a resounding, and emphatical “Yes.”
God, in His great wisdom, chooses to bring us through a bit at a time. He allows some pain for growth, but also baptizes us with joy and wraps us in His love and comfort through His Holy Spirit.
That is where I stand today and rejoice along with the 12, for as Peter so rightly said, “To where would we go?”
Indeed.
Thank you Lord, for giving me the chance at this wonderful adventure of following you. Everything this world has to offer pales in comparison to what You have to give. Amen
In the Refiner’s Fire
I lift the gifts to you today Lord, in gratitude of all you give and keep giving………The wonderful rain that poured down in this dry desert…….worship that comes in little spontaneous moments throughout the day…….a little extra money this month…….God’s continued protection when I don’t even know it……melons and okra sprouting like wildfire in the garden……..a good day yesterday…….seeing old friends again…….music that upliftts and burns hot in the soul in praise to God……answered prayer for a first day of school……a good walk this morning……911-921
And the thunder rolled……
“Thus says the Lord……Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; and you shall find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Jeremiah 6:16
As I read the words of Jeremiah this morning, reflecting on the wrath of God poured out on a disobediant people, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Jeremiah had the unpleasant task to be the mouthpiece of God to Israel.
Just then, as if ordered by God himself to put a little emphasis on His own words there was a terrible clap of thunder and I almost jumped out of my seat! The anger of God is something I never want to experience personally.
It is easy to feel a little “puffed up” as the Apostle Paul put it, when we read about all those rebellious things the Israelites did, how they strayed from God to worship foreign idols, statues that could neither talk walk or breathe.
How could they, we wonder? After God himself came down in a visual form…..a pillar of fire by night and a cloud by day? After all He had done for them? And all along, there is a loving Father who wants His people back. He longs to love and cherish them and yet they push Him away.
There was another loud clap and in my mind I remembered all those times when I myself have push God away, thinking I knew better….thinking the plan I had for myself was better than the one He had for me. And yet, His mercy and love have pulled me back, over and over again. Not once has He ever refused me.
Oh how He loves us…….His mercy calls us back, new every morning.
As with all things of nature, it thrilled me no end, that clear and powerful reminder. It reminded me this morning who is in control, and it is most definitely not me.
To watch a lightning storm is to watch the finger of God touching down on the earth, and to hear His voice in the thunder a gift, a marvelous thing.
His power, my weakness.











