The time had come. There was no use putting it off any longer. Our coat closet needed to be sorted. I had procrastinated long enough. When I needed a coat, I would basically dive in, hoping that if no one heard from me after a few days that they would come looking. So yes… it was time.
Coats started flying… There was the “I have no idea why I ever bought that coat” pile. Next to it, was the “I can’t believe I ever fit into that coat” pile. Finally, there was the “I better hang on to that coat or I’ll have nothing to wear” pile.
And then there it was. Mom’s beautiful black coat. A gorgeous, regal coat… with a black fur shawl collar. The pain of the loss of my dear mom had been too deep for me to do anything with it previously. As I held it up on the hanger… heavy, stately….memories of the day that we purchased it washed over me.
Mom had come for a visit from Canada, telling me that she needed to find a new coat, and that “the states is way ahead of Canada”! We planned our shopping trip and off we went. Our search landed us finally in Macy’s, continuing the scavenger hunt amongst the hundreds of women’s coats.
We both saw it. It took our breath away. Stunning. It looked like royalty. I took it off the hanger and slipped it gently over her aged shoulders. Looking in the mirror, I truly believe mom saw a queen. She held her head up high, eyes shining, and said softly, “Oh, Ruth, I love it.” The price was daunting, to say the least, but I was determined that she would go home with the coat. Between coupons that I just happened to have and opening a Macy’s account to get a discount (I never told Dave Ramsey) … we walked out of the store with our treasure.
Back to the closet sorting. As a tsunami of sweet memories continued to wash over me, I reached my hand into the pockets…. making sure that they were empty before sending the coat to the cleaners. I pulled out of each pocket something wrinkled and worn.
Mom’s gloves. Her burgundy velvet gloves. Yes, tears flowed down my face as I stood, lost in a jumble of memories and emotions…. and pondered all that I was learning in that moment.
As I smoothed out the gloves, I realized that mom had learned a balance in the way that she lived her life, as not only a child of God, but as a daughter of the King.
The gloves were rolled up and in the pockets of the coat…. ready to go at a moment’s notice, when God had something for her to do.
They were velvet…for years considered a luxury and only owned by the wealthy…. mom knew how to enjoy the beauty of simple comforts, thanking the Lord for her velvet gloves.
The gloves were washable… a practical fabric… able to get soiled in the service of the King of Kings…. and then washed, to be ready to go again.
Oh, they were rumpled… obviously stuffed quickly into the pockets… not overly concerned about keeping herself looking perfect… moving on to what needed to be done next.
They were burgundy…. the color of royalty…. she never forgot Who’s she was and Whom she served.
And they kept her hands warm… those well-worn, arthritic hands…. that continued to turn the pages of her precious Bible, held her prayer lists as she prayed, knit hats and mittens for little ones and wrote notes of sweet encouragement to those in pain.
Ahhhhh, mom….. so much to learn. As I gently washed the gloves and laid them out to dry, I could only pray that I would have the privilege of continuing on the legacy of living a life reflecting clearly that I am the daughter of the King of Kings and serving Him every day that He gives me with all my heart and strength.
“A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies….. She is clothed with strength and dignity…. Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.” Proverbs 31
“Lord…. help me to live my life like mom’s worn, velvet gloves…. rumpled but royal… ready to go, enjoying the beauty of simple comforts, willing to get dirty serving You, moving on quickly to what needs to be done next in Your Kingdom work, remembering that I’m Yours and it’s You that I’m serving – the King of Kings, lifting up many to You in prayer and continuously turning the pages of my Bible….. In Jesus’ Name…. Amen.”
Everyone needs an Aunt Dorothy…. an aunt who can bake and cook up a storm, keep an immaculate house, love her kids to pieces AND…. can paint a cow on a piece of wood that looks ready to walk into the barn. Yup. Our kids were so blessed to have Aunt Dorothy. She gave that cow to our boys for their birthdays one year.
As time moved on, Bessie disappeared for awhile… and then showed up one day. Weird how that happens. I carefully hung her near the stairs in the basement, where the little guys would be reminded often to “Trust in the Lord.”
Many moons later, after the boys were all grown up and married, I went rushing past the cow one day… and stopped in my tracks. Wait…. something looked wrong. Inspecting a little more carefully, I read, “Rust in the Lord.” The “T” was gone. I stood and stared at ol’ Bessie… hearing a sermon at full volume as well as a quiet whispering in my heart… As I pondered the message, I felt the need to pray… “Dear Lord, help me never to rust in You.”
Rust is a very strange product. Although I know that you really couldn’t care less, rust is produced when the oxygen and moisture in the air react with metal and form hydrated oxide (rust.) If you were deeply concerned about your tools rusting, which I’m sure you are, you would research in depth, and find that the best way to keep them from rusting is to use them. Class dismissed.
Come… let’s take a walk… back thousands of years… to an outrageously gorgeous spot called the Garden of Eden. Here, God created man and woman, and enjoyed a wonderful relationship with them. We get a peek into the heart of God as He calls out in the garden, “Where are you?”
Then sin ruined everything. But our God didn’t give up. He chose to continue pursuing us… and sacrificed His only Son on the cross to bridge the gap between Him and us. He relentlessly continued to battle for a relationship with His created people.
When we come to the place of total surrender to Him… and He restores us to that place of closeness through believing in His Son, Jesus Christ, we then begin to understand the purpose for which we were created. Slowly the scales are peeled back from our eyes, and we see more clearly that God has an amazing purpose for our being here. The words in the Bible seem to all of a sudden become alive, refreshing, challenging, inspiring and nourishing.
Then… if we aren’t careful… life begins to come between us and our loving Heavenly Father. Daily stuff… crazy schedules, disappointments, imbalanced priorities, expectations, the unexpected, illness, loss …. pandemics. And there sits our Bible… covered in the dust of a distant relationship.
And we rust.
As we rush about, working so hard at what amounts to so little, we don’t realize that the rust is making life so much tougher. We forget our purpose. We aren’t being used as planned. Gone is the original shine, that once reflected the love of our Creator. Yes… gone is the trust. Deeper still is the rust.
But God still calls, “Where are you?” He is just waiting… to brush away the rust, pour in His joy and grace, restore you to the one that He created you to be, reminding you that you can always, completely trust… in Him.
Ten years ago today, the view from my kitchen window looked pretty much the same as it does right now. But that day… our world as we knew it, ceased spinning on its axis. Yes… that day… our dear Stephie was taken Home to be with her Lord and Savior. We were called to embark on a journey that no one wanted to take. Our days were filled to overflowing with excruciating pain and questions… many of which are unanswered to this day. As we look back over the years, our memories are crystal clear and painful… and yet wrapped in the loving care and amazing grace of God. Yes, the God we love and serve is perfectly faithful. He has never let us go….
During the months following the loss of Steph, I poured my heart and soul out onto paper… which is often a source of healing for me. Although I’m feeling very vulnerable right now in doing this, I am going to share with you today what I wrote. It is not an easy read…. you may want to grab a tissue. My prayer, though, is that somehow through my struggle to understand a God who passes understanding, you will be drawn to Him. No matter how awful, broken and shattered your life may look right now, Jesus is standing right next to you… longing for you to turn to Him. He speaks words of love to you…. often in a quiet, voice. Yes… at times… He whispers.
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God Whispered
Another morning, another day, a winter day … chilly … “Where’s my coffee?” OK … There we are … Take a sip … check my email … Oh, yeah, I need to write that email … It’s long overdue … Sip coffee … Ponder … Write … Click “Send” at 9:09 AM, December 2nd, 2010 …
There was a knock at the door.
I peeked through the curtain on the door and saw a police officer. Not wanting to greet him in a housecoat, I ran upstairs and rapidly got dressed. I wasn’t overly concerned, due to the fact that living on a dairy farm had taught me that there are many reasons to warrant a visit from the police. My mind was skimming over the possibilities including cows being on the road, a friendly neighborly complaint or just a casual visit.
I raced back down to the kitchen and as I looked out of my window, I saw that the officer was now talking to my husband, Dan, down at the barn. Dan was up on a ladder, the officer looking up at him, and they were having a lengthy discussion, complete with arm signals. Hmmmm … what could be the problem?
Soon the officer climbed back into his car, and slowly approached the house. My cell phone rang. I heard Dan’s trembling voice saying, “Hun, there as been an accident. It’s Stephanie.” My heart pounded as I asked, “How is she?” His voice was breaking… “The policeman doesn’t know. He’s coming to talk to you.” Heart pounding. “Does Jeremy know?” I questioned. He assured me that he had called him.
As the officer approached my door, I remembered that my daughter, Esther, was home that morning and was still in bed. I ran for the stairs and cried out her name, asking her to come down, knowing in my heart that I was going to need the strength of her next to me. She was there in a flash. As he entered the house, questions were pouring out of me, but the man had no answers. Aware that I was a nurse on staff at the hospital where they had taken Steph, he asked me to call the ER, to see if I could glean more information. I agreed to call the hospital, but told him that I had one other call that I had to make first.
With my heart breaking in two, I had to make the most difficult phone call of my life. I called my dear friend, Sally, Steph’s mother. She answered with her usual cheerful, “Good morning!”…. but it was far from good. I told her that I had a police officer at my door, and that Steph had been in an accident. There was a split-second pause, and she said, “The one at Millersport and 78.” Yes, Sally….
A quick call to Millard Fillmore Suburban Hospital’s ER, gave me very brief and guarded information… “She is alive and she has been transferred to ECMC.”
As Esther and I were quickly trying to make ourselves presentable to go to a hospital, Jeremy was driving desperately for home in a semi. His brother, Ben, met him with a pickup so that he could get home faster. Within minutes, Jeremy was at our door, looking pale and frantic, saying that he was leaving for the hospital and he wanted to drive. Esther and I drove with him to ECMC.
As we drove, I received a call from Sally telling me that Steph had been hit by a semi, and that it didn’t look good. I purposefully kept that information from Jeremy, since he was trying to drive us there safely. The trip was difficult … back roads, blocked roads, traffic, sick stomachs, prayers spoken aloud as well as silent and whispered, all the while hanging onto a thread of hope. “Dear God, … please …”
Upon arrival at ECMC, we were ushered into a small visiting room, and were told that we would be given information shortly. We waited. Prayed. Agonized. Questioned. Clung. Wept.
Ken and Sally arrived … hugs, tears … more prayers … more waiting.
Jeremy sat in the little room with me, head in hands, and cried his heart out to his God. “Dear God. I can’t lose her. Please. I’m only 26.” My mother heart screamed in pain.
The next six hours is truly a God-given blur of … “She made it through the surgery” … hope … “Hurry, we want the father, mother and husband to come in .. she doesn’t look good” … despair … more family arriving … weeping … prayers … “she seems to have stabilized” … Hope … “extreme loss of blood”… “has coded four times” … My Dan arrived … So needed his strength … “Trying to find source of blood loss” … Despair … “is she an organ donor?” … What? Why? … Waiting … Doctor laying it on the line … Truth … Awful truth … If she lives she will have extensive brain damage … More tests … Waiting … Is this real or am I in a nightmare? … Losing all hope … Too much pain to form a prayer … The horrific moment … There is no blood flow to the brain … “Dear God, no…” … Hope lost … Searing pain … Jeremy’s head bowed over the broken and bruised body of his sweet wife … weeping … saying “Goodbyes” … trying to sign paperwork through blinding tears … family gathered round her bed … Prayer … the numbing blessedness of shock … organ donation questions … what? Are we really doing this? … Keep moving … everyone trying to comfort each other, while drowning in their own pain … so young … poor Jer … cutting small wisps of Steph’s hair to treasure … I whispered to her, “Steph, I love you so much … I will see you again … I will take care of Jeremy for you … You have been such a wonderful wife to him … I am going to miss you so much …”
The maze of the weeks following her death is one that is very difficult to describe. They were days filled with family and friends arriving from all over the country, a house filled with people who came to comfort and needed to be comforted, time to weep but many times of bottling up my grief in order to deal with the needs at hand. There was funeral to plan, a grief-torn son, a dear friend and her husband who had just lost their only daughter, a need to think clearly when all I wanted to do was not to think. There were hours and hours of greeting, hugging, thanking and weeping at the wake, trying to sleep at night and yet dreading the moment of waking up again … and through it all, trying to keep moving ahead, while my heart was urging me to keep life as it was on December 1st.
Throughout those days, often I would open my Bible. Opening its precious pages, I would ask the Lord to comfort me through a verse or two. Of the of the Psalms that has been a source of strength and reassurance to me over the years is the 91st Psalm. My heart was warmed as my eyes fell on the familiar verses.
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'” Thank You, Lord. Yes … I need You to be my Refuge and Fortress.
I read on. “Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.” Slowly, I felt chilled fingers wrapping around my heart, and it cried out, “But wait … What happed with Steph? Why couldn’t You save her from the icy patch and deadly semi?” Next verse. “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” What? God, Steph was under Your wings. What happened? Where was her shield? “You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.” Really? We don’t need to fear any source of pain? “A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.” I was shaken to the core of my being. My heart cried out, “But God … It DID come near her. That semi hit her on her right hand side.” My years and years of trust in my Almighty God was being challenged. “You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.” Punishment? What? “If you make the Most High your dwelling — even the Lord, who is my refuge — then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” Dear God … I don’t get it. “No harm?” “No disaster?” “Angels?” “To guard you?” I read on. “They will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” God, where were those angels for our dear Stephanie? Why wasn’t she lifted? “You will tread upon the lion and cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.” No, God … something went wrong … Steph didn’t do the treading and trampling. She was the one trampled. “‘Because he loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.'” Anger was now welling up in my chest, as I wrestled with God. “Because he loves me?” She loved You, God, with her whole being. You will answer? You will deliver? Really? “With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.” Crushed, I closed my Bible. Long life? Twenty-six years is not a long life, God. Not long at all.
There was no comfort for me that morning in Psalm 91. Only questions, pondering, fears, disappointment, betrayal and anger.
Days and nights became an endless movie that I couldn’t seem to turn off. Hours rolled into days, filled with a blend of heart crushing scenes and daily routine activities. Somewhere beneath the shroud of my “stay organized, don’t-stop-moving-or-you-will-drown” exterior, my soul continued to grapple with what had gone wrong with the God of Refuge.
And then God whispered…
The words of Elijah the prophet in the Old Testament describe it so well. “After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” 1 Kings 19:12
No … I didn’t hear an audible whisper. But He spoke. He spoke to my heart and gave me a glimpse of His heart, a mental picture, that I will treasure for a lifetime.
All of a sudden I saw it … The veil of misunderstanding was pulled back and I wept, as I got a glimpse of the pain that my Heavenly Father went through on December 2nd.
In my mind’s eye, I envisioned a scene where, early on the morning of the accident, the heart of God was weeping. He knew that in a short while He was going to have to stop the angels from doing what they loved to do … protect one of His children. He gathered His angels around Him, and with a voice trembling with compassion, told them that one of His children … a young, beautiful woman … who loved Him with all of her heart, was coming Home. He told them to listen closely for special instructions. As the angels gathered close, he continued on, telling them that as she traveled to work, her car was going to slide into the path of an oncoming truck, and they were not to lift her up. As the angels started to look at each other with concern, the Lord God held up His Hand an said, “I know. I know. It’s not going to be easy for us. But I will stand next to her, and be right there to gather her into my arms. You just need to stay out of the way.” The angels’ heads bowed in submission and grief.
The moment drew near and the angels stood by, swords and shields drawn, just in case their Heavely Master changed His mind. God Himself hovered over the hightway, tears pouring down His omnipotent face, waiting. As Steph’s car rounded the bend, the angels moved in on instinct, but out swung the Almighty, All-powerful, loving Arm of God, and held them at bay. His other Arm reached down … and gathered His sweet child to His chest, whispering, “Come, my dear Stephanie, come Home.”
With tearing streaming down my face, I cried, “Dear Lord, I am so sorry. I had no idea of the pain You went through that day.” He wrapped His Arms of comfort around me … and we cried together.
In Psalm 22 we have the privilege of sharing in the innermost thoughts of Jesus, as He hung on the cross … even though these words were written thousands of years before He lived on earth. Speaking to His Father, He says, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me? Why are You so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? … O my Strength, come quickly to help me. Deliver my life from the sword…” We will never know the excruciating pain that our Lord went through on the cross … and yet we also will never know the pain of the Father, as He turned His face from His Son. For those three hours of darkness, I wonder if God’s Almighty, All-powerful, Loving Arm was holding angels at bay … while Jesus took the punishment for your sins and mine.
Thank You, Lord, for whispering to my heart. Thank you for giving me this little picture in my heart to help me understand your pain. Thank You for constantly loving me, even as I struggled with Your ways. Thank You for carrying me … and for the comfort that You will never let me go. Thank You for the Everlasting Arms, that no matter how low I go, they will always be underneath me. Yes, Lord … Thank You that the same Arms that carried Steph Home, will carry me … until I see her again.
Children are amazing. Amazing! They have a way of preaching a sermon in a single sentence in a way that no minister could accomplish in an entire hour.
Johnny loved school. Johnny sat oh, so still while the teacher was speaking. With little crossed legs and eyes glued to the teacher’s face, Johnny took it all in.
The year was starting off with the usual bus safety talk, given by Mrs. Teacher. She had the little students’ utmost attention. Their eyes were riveted on her face as she instructed them to wait after getting off the bus, until the bus driver gave them the signal that it was safe to cross the road in front of the bus.
As she paused, Johnny’s hand shot up. “Yes, Johnny?” asked Mrs. Teacher, silently reveling in the fact that she was getting a response.
With a worried look on his face, Johnny asked, “What do we do if we have a blind bus driver?”
Silence. A blank, speechless look came over the teacher’s face. “Well…. ummm… Johnny…. uhhh…”….. Poor Mrs. Teacher. I’m sure she was having not-so loving thoughts about her college professor who never said anything about a moment like this.
Hold on, though… Are we really so different from little Johnny?
God has given us His Word, the Bible, the complete instruction Book for our lives. When we accept His gift of forgiveness and make Him Lord of our lives, He indwells us with the Holy Spirit, who guides us into truth. He has promised to be with us always… constantly… and has said that He will never leave us or forsake us.
And yet, at times, we look at Him with worried faces, and say, “But, Lord, what do we do if…?” We somehow come up with the craziest things to worry about… things that most likely will never happen… and walk around with a worried look on our face. A Johnny face. We wonder where the premature worry lines came from!
Then we hear Him whisper…”Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear… Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” Matthew 6:25, 27, 33, 34.
Stop putting your hand up. Instead, hold tight onto the hand of the One who holds your hand. He promises, “For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Do not be afraid.” Isaiah 41:13, 14
The day was drawing rapidly to a close, and we needed to find the major highway leading to our destination. The sun was slowly dropping lower in the sky, and night time would only make travel more difficult. This was not an ideal situation for two young women…..
A few days prior, my friend and I had hopped into her gold Plymouth Duster… yes, during the 70’s… and headed out traveling east from Toronto. Destination? Nova Scotia. We were looking forward to helping out at a children’s week-long program, along the lines of the old-fashioned revival tent meetings. Our journey would take us through the eastern “maritime” provinces, including New Brunswick. Aww, the excitement of a road trip! This trip included traveling through Quebec as well, where I attempted to use my many years of high school French… causing great entertainment to the bone fide Quebecois!
Back to looking for the highway! My friend was the driver and I was the navigator. I have always loved maps and thoroughly enjoyed my position. I knew that we were close to the highway that we were looking for … but just needed to find a small cross road to get us there.
All of a sudden I saw it! Through the trees, I could see the lights of the highway. There, on the left, was a small road, leading in the right direction. I pointed and gave my orders. “There! See it? Turn left. ” We did.
We traveled a short distance on the cross road and finally came out onto a gorgeous, wide, smooth highway. Wow! What a change from the previous roads! We were sailing along, when I suddenly took a better look at the road we were traveling on. The dotted lines were HUGE. I mean HUUUUGGGGE. As my heart started to pound a little more quickly, I looked behind us and saw down at the end of the highway a watchtower of sorts. Oh, no…. you’ve got to be kidding me.
I yelled…. “We’re on a runway!!” Then, “Quick…. turn around. We have to find that little road in the trees.”
Frantically, we looked! All of the trees looked the same. Where did that road go? Seriously? Can’t they put signs out, in case some crazy women try to drive their car on the runway? …. Then we saw it… and raced toward the opening, and bumped back onto the small road in the trees.
We looked at each other…. stared… catching out breath… mumbling incoherent partial sentences about “I can’t believe it” and “a runway” and “oh, my goodness”… and then laughed… uncontrollably!
Although runway driving probably isn’t on your bucket list, I’m thinking that you probably relate more than you think.
From where I’m sitting right now, the lines look HUGE. In fact, they are so huge, that they really don’t make sense. They look distorted. Not the way they are supposed to look. Bigger than I am. Not really giving me direction most of the time. They don’t follow the rules that I’m accustomed to. They make me feel very small and powerless.
But to the pilot… trying to land the plane safely… those same lines are just the right size, make perfect sense, give welcomed direction, are drawn according to the rules, encourage and empower.
Perhaps you and I need to change our viewpoint.
As God looks down at us right now, He sees us changing. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I believe that we don’t quite have everything figured out like we thought we did. We feel a lot more dependent on Him and lot less dependent on ourselves. Our “I’ve got this” attitudes have melted into helpless pools of “I’ve got nothin’.” Our shiny possessions seem to have lost their luster. Our value system has been altered… illuminating once again our basic needs of food, water, safety and security. Many of our hearts have been tenderized to God’s call to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Worship of our Almighty God has come more often from the soul than from the sanctuary. Hurting, broken people have reached out to a loving, redeeming God, Who welcomes, embraces and heals.
From the viewpoint of God…. the One flying the plane… it’s crystal clear. The only way that we’ll see it like He does, is to spend time with Him. Many years before Jesus was born, a prophet named Isaiah gave an invitation… “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call on Him while He is near”, followed by an amazing quotation from the Lord, “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord, ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.'” Isaiah 55:6,8,9
There is no substitute for spending time in the sweet Presence of God, reading His Word, listening for His Voice, pouring out our hearts to Him in prayer and lifting His Name higher in praise.
Raising six children on an income which was considered significantly below “poverty level” (such an ambiguous term!) was one of my greatest blessings. Was it tough? Oh, yes. Was it stressful? Uh-huh. Was it amazing? That’s an understatement.
Our checking account was drained. I had figured out what meals I could put on the table with the groceries in my cupboards that would tie us over until our next payday. We had one credit card that was maxed out. I had just a bit of change in my wallet.
The mail arrived. There was a letter from our bank. Our checking account was overdrawn and required immediate attention.
The words blurred before my eyes, through a mist of tears. My heart was in my throat, as I felt the world closing in on me. Waves of despair and helplessness flooded my heart.
Attempting to escape the observant eyes of our sweet and trusting children, I tried to sneak away to the upstairs of our home. Along the way, I met our oldest son. Concerned with how I was doing, he asked me what was going on. With tears in my eyes I shared with him the difficult circumstances we were in.
With a nod, he said to me, “I think there’s something you need to hear.” He then took me to his room, queued up a song… and pressed “play.” I closed my eyes and listened……
“Turn your eyes upon Jesus…. Look full in His wonderful face…. And the things of this world will grow strangely dim…. In the light of His glory and grace.”
I left his room feeling like Someone had just lifted the weight of the world off of my shoulders. As I went back down the stairs, something flashed through my mind! I remembered an envelope of money that my mother had given me to tuck away to use for a family picture someday! I rushed to my dresser, and there it was… If I remember correctly it was one hundred dollars!
Thank You, Lord.
As you and I look out at the world that we live in…. we have our moments of feeling like the walls are closing in on us. Waves of despair and helplessness can pound against our hearts, causing us to lose our balance as we grasp for something to hold onto. The light at the end of the tunnel seems so tiny… flickering at times, appearing to have gone out completely. The vision of our carefully laid plans and dreams blurs and fades, leaving us with just barely an outline of the original. Behind our masks of “we’re all in this together” lies the real expression of “will I ever see life again as I once knew it?”
Close your eyes for moment, while I queue up a song for you….
“Turn your eyes upon Jesus… Look full in His wonderful face… And the things of this world will grow strangely dim…. In the light of His glory and grace.”
Why should looking at the face of Jesus change my perspective, you ask? Oooooh, I was so hoping you’d ask!
Many years ago, in the years following the death and resurrection of Jesus, a man named Paul wrote a letter. He was writing to a group of people in a church located in a town called Corinth. He wrote, “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness, made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” 2 Cor. 4:6
Many of these people had actually seen Jesus in the flesh… they had believed in Him with their whole hearts, and His light had shone in… and then they understood. They realized that God’s glory had been on display. And that’s what it was all about.
When I look at Jesus… I see the One who was willing to come to this hurting world, be tormented, mocked, questioned, mistreated, misjudged, insulted, beaten beyond recognition, hung a cross, crucified, laid down His life…… and rose again, beating death, crushing the enemy… for me… and for you… and for the glory of His Father.
“Things of this world grow strangely dim…”
Take a deep breath…. and turn you eyes to Jesus… allowing His light to shine into your heart… knowing that all of this is allowed to ultimately bring glory to our Heavenly Father.
“Dear Jesus… Thank You . Thank You for all that you endured for me. I need your help today. I can’t do this without You. Help me to see clearly that through all of the chaos Your Name is to be lifted higher… as Prince of Peace and Lord of Lords. And please make everything else grow strangely dim. I love you. In Jesus Name…”
Just in case you’ve ever wondered what the value is in what you do every day…
When you say “Good morning” to your little ones, on a rainy Monday, …And wonder what is good about it, …You’ve taught them optimism.
When you wrap them in your arms, close to your heart, …And pray that angels will always protect them, …You’ve taught them trust.
When you pick up the hundredth Cheerio from the kitchen floor …And wonder why you bother, …You’ve taught them perseverance.
When you fill the washing machine with your sixth load of laundry …As your child hugs you, covered in chocolate, …You’ve taught them devotion.
When you sit at your kitchen table with your coffee and your Bible, …And they watch you read and pray, …You’ve taught them godliness.
When you close the car door on your finger, bringing tears of pain, …And you wait in silence for relief, …You’ve taught them self-control.
When you wipe tears from their little eyes after a fall off of their bike, …And place a band-aid over a kiss, …You’ve taught them compassion.
When you pray with your children before going into the store, …And watch God provide for your needs, …You’ve taught them faith.
When you choose to make extra for dinner even when money is tight, …And take a meal over to the neighbor, …You’ve taught them kindness.
When you brush a tear from your eye, as you dig a hole in the ground, …And bury the pet hamster, …You’ve taught them gentleness.
When you drag your weary body out from under the covers, …And rush to their bedside to give a hug, …You’ve taught them selflessness.
When you’ve tied the last shoe as you rush out the door to church …And know that you could have stayed home, …You’ve taught them priorities.
When you gather your family around you to kneel in prayer …And cry out to God for answers, …You’ve taught them dependence.
When your life plans are forever altered, a loved one is lost, …And God carries you through your darkest hour, …You’ve taught them submission.
When you open your arms and welcome home your prodigal child …And know that you also have wandered, …You’ve taught them unconditional love.
Moms…. just in case you’ve ever wondered …What the value is in what you do every day…. When your “To Do” list remains untouched…. You have been the hands and feet of God …Fulfilling the role for which He called you …In molding a child who will reflect His heart.
We had just finished Sunday dinner, which we had enjoyed with friends of ours in our dining room. As the guests sat relaxing at the table, I slipped out to the kitchen to cut the homemade cherry pie. It was gorgeous, if I do say so myself! I had worked hard at it the day before, and couldn’t wait to hear the raves.
I carefully placed the slices on the dessert plates and adorned each one with a scoop of ice cream. The plates were then placed carefully in front of each awaiting guest. They took their first bites while I went back to the kitchen for some forgotten item. I heard some mumbled discussion from the table. Yes… mumbles. Not raves.
Upon returning to the table, my husband told me quietly that the pie was fine… except that I had left the pits in the cherries!! I hadn’t realized that the canned cherries I was using weren’t pitted!
Have you ever eaten a piece of cherry pie with the pits still in??! It is no easy task, my friend! It is a blend of chewing, sorting, spitting, drooling, swallowing and breathing. Exhausting.
These days…. do you sometimes feel like every time you try to take a bite you hit a pit? Do you feel like your day can look like it going to be a beautiful one, and by 10:00 AM all you are doing is chewing, sorting and spitting? Are there moments where you don’t even care if you get a whole piece, you just would like one bite without a pit?? As you struggle to deal with daily stuff… do you find it hard to even put into words what you’re feeling… and all that comes out are mumbles? Do you feel like you pour your heart and soul into trying to make things beautiful… and all you get is the messy? As you drag yourself to bed at the end of your quarantined day… do you wonder why you even bothered?
Because I do. Sometimes. And it’s OK.
Your loving Heavenly Father sees your efforts… and your heart… and loves you tons.
He says… “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.” Colossians 3:23
The results are not up to us… they’re up to God. So, just keep making your pie for Him.
I love doors. The older, paint-pealing, nostalgic ones get me. You know the ones… with the creaky hinges sometimes… or the heavy thud as it closes for the night. Why, you ask? Why would you like those doors when there are so many gorgeous, new, modern ones, with extra seals and gizmos to keep out the arctic air and intruders? Because they have a story to tell.
Their story is a story of life, at it’s best and at it’s worst. They have witnessed joyous reunions and tearful good-byes,….been held open for long-overdue visits and been slammed in anger,….held out the bitter winds and held onto the comforting heat of the indoors… welcomed a lonely soul and protected from the enemy.
As a little girl, I just loved to go to Daddy’s office. It was so stately and fancy in my young eyes! My mother would sometimes stop in at the office during the day, and I knew right where Daddy’s office was! There was a seating area outside his door where visitors would wait, until my father had time to meet with them.
Waiting was not for me, though! I would race across the office, as quickly as my little legs could take me, right to his door, reach up to the door handle, turn it and walk right in….. right into my daddy’s arms!
Why could I do that? Because He was my father.
Imagine being part of a huge group of people, walking miles and miles through a wilderness, year after year. You counted on God for your daily instructions and directions as well as your food. And… you had to keep up with a lot of rules and regulations as far as having your sins forgiven. It was no easy task to be part of the children of Israel as they journeyed from Egypt to Canaan over a time period of forty years.
God had a plan. He gave Moses directions as to how He wanted the Tabernacle to be built. This would provide the people with a tent where they could sacrifice and a place where His Presence would dwell. However, only the high priest was allowed to enter the Holy of Holies where the Ark of God resided. This Holy of Holies was separated from the area called the Holy Place by a veil. The high priest would enter with a blood sacrifice, hoping that he had fulfilled all of the requirements of a just and holy God.
Today… you…. as a redeemed child of God….if you have confessed Jesus as Lord and accepted His sacrifice on the cross for you…. have the privilege of opening that door…. anytime… anywhere…. and walking right in to the Most Holy Place, through prayer.
“…since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, His body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings…” Hebrews 10:19-22
Are you feeling overwhelmed with life right now? Are you longing for just a few moments of solitude while at the same time dying of loneliness? Are those you love with all of your heart not looking so lovely at times? Does fear sneak up on you, and attack your mind when you’re least expecting it? Is the light at the end of the tunnel dim at times and yet blinding if you stare at it too long? Are you just plain tired… and yet you know that you can’t give up?
Just open the door and walk right in. Draw near…. He’s your Father. Pour out your heart to Him… He knows it all already. Rest in His love… He loved you enough to die for you.
There was a quiet splash, and her little body slipped below the surface. Ashley had been playing near the boathouse and had spied a challenge. She was out of sight from her mother and her family. Now was her chance… Her pulse quickened as she wondered if she could make it out to the end of the boathouse, along the outside of the building. Placing her little toes on the narrow top of a wooden crosspiece, while gripping the wood with her small fingers, she inched her way along. Soon she was at the outside corner where the water was deep, and the challenge intensified. As she reached around the corner, attempting to grasp the wood, her foot slipped, and into the chilly water she fell.
As she came up for air, Ashley struggled to stay afloat. The depth of water that she found herself in didn’t allow her to reach the bottom with her little toes. On instinct, she began to frantically swim the doggie-paddle, and inch by inch slowly made it to the side of the boathouse. Clutching the boards, she moved closer and closer to the shore. She then dragged her tired and soaked body out of the water and back to the cottage… into the comfort of her momma’s arms.
Many years before Ashley (actually, me) was born… a missionary boarded a ship, with plans to travel from a port in Asia towards Rome, stopping in at small ports along the way. The days were getting cooler, and the crew realized that winter was quickly approaching. The missionary warned them that they would lose the ship, cargo and their lives if they continued on. He wanted to winter in the harbor of Fair Havens. The majority of the crew felt differently, though, arguing that the harbor wasn’t a suitable place to winter. They continued on in their journey.
A soft gentle breeze turned quickly into a wind of hurricane force. They submitted to its strength, and their ship was driven along, with the men terrified of running aground on sandbars. They began to throw cargo overboard. Then they threw the tackle overboard. Now they were scared for their lives. Refusing to eat, their stomachs were gnawing with hunger.
The missionary finally stood up in front of the men and spoke from the heart. He gently reminded them of his advice back before the storm. But then he encouraged them, saying, “…keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed…. keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God…” He then informed them that he knew at some point they would have to run aground on an island.
After two weeks of this voyage, in the middle of the night, the men sensed something! They felt that they were getting close to land. A few of them checked the water depth and it was 125 feet. They waited and checked it again. It was 90 feet deep. Now terror set in. They were afraid they would be smashed against the rocks. Quickly, working together, they dropped four anchors and prayed for daylight. The missionary begged the men to eat, telling them that they needed food to survive. In quiet confidence, he took some bread, thanked God for it, and began to eat in front of them. They all joined in and a feast was had! After eating their fill, they lightened the boat by throwing the grain overboard.
As the sun came up, the men were overjoyed to see a sandy beach! They were ready to make a run for it with the ship. After cutting loose the anchors and hoisting the sail, they raced towards the beach. The ship ran aground, striking a sandbar. The stern began to break apart with the pounding of the waves.
The men on board were given their orders. They were to jump overboard. If they could swim, they were to swim to land. If they were unable to swim, they were to grasp hold of planks or pieces of the ship and make their way to safety.
They all made it to the land. Every one of them. All 276 of them. Including the missionary, Paul, as recorded in the book of Acts.
Do you feel like you’ve just landed in deeper water than you can handle? Have you lost your footing? Have you dropped below the surface and are struggling to come up for air? Does the shore seem to be miles further away than your strength will endure for? Are your memories of security being washed quickly away with the monstrous waves of fear? Have you lost faith in the Master of the ship and the seas? Are you laying awake at night, tossing about, as moments of panic swirl through your mind? Are you struggling to find something to cling to as life crashes against you with full force, blinding you sight?
Are you drowning?
Reach out. Your piece of wood is only a grasp away.
The Master of the ship, the God of the Universe, the One and Only God Almighty.. has given us promises to cling to. Grab onto one. Or two…. ’cause then you’ll have one to help a friend.
“Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” Matthew 6:4
“Look at the birds of the air;… your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ” Matthew 6:26
“So do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10
“The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.” Isaiah 43:2
Ahhh… cling tight… and rest. After all, He made the wood. He’s with you. He’ll care for you. He’ll hold you. He’ll shield you.
You’ve got to be kidding me! 
