So What's This Fuss All About?

There is Joy

Walking in the deep twilight

The laugh of a child breaks through

Another joins in blending mother and child.

Joy was over there.

A pink haze runs free upon a now darkened sky

Last of the colors of night

Gazing upon it

Joy was here

Pushing the swing to the sky

A granddaughter's wish

Bringing giggles, skirt all a furl

Joy was there

Morning from a kitchen window

A fawn and it's sibling

Dancing, frolicking around their mother

Joy was here

A child speaks of their deepest desire

My ears hear

My heart is tickled

There is joy here, there, everywhere.

Have an ear to hear

A heart that is open

This is a gift

Receive it...with joy.

This Evening

Long sing the crickets

Soft glows the moon

No breeze blowing

Sun comes too soon.

Evening is magic

Deer make their way here

Standing close by

Frogs croaking near.

A dog calls to dogs,

Their sentinel sounds

Soft glows the moon,

Peace still abounds.

Come now let's sleep.

Eyes close and pray.

Here we shall dream

Of sweet new day.

Independence Day

This week has been a fun one for me. I love the fourth of July. I love our country. From Alaska to the tip of Florida, I believe it is the most beautiful place on earth to live...in many, many ways.

Being blessed to have been born here, thrive here, grow old here; there is nothing else like it on this planet. It is dear to my heart. I am forever awed by the Sovereign grace that has brought us thus far. We could have lost this republic. It has cost us dearly, but it has prevailed, freedom has prevailed. God has surely protected us.

This week, July 9th, to be exact, another country was born...Southern Sudan. That country is not as developed as we are. It's people have suffered much and have survived through many, many years of brutal civil war. Yesterday they celebrated their new country with flags newly designed and flying high, a soccer game with Kenya and visiting dignitaries. Jubilant citizens everywhere.

Just last month, however, there was intense fighting on their border, dozens of civilians were killed and 60,000 displaced. Two churches that had been built since their citizens voted for freedom, were burned, destroyed. The villages around them filled with soldiers from the north.

It is not a simple freedom. There is vast oil production in the south...there is hostile hatred from many enemies that would want to thwart their joy. Yet..they still celebrate. Hope is high.

Here in our America the beautiful, we picnic and shoot off fireworks and decorate in our red, white and blue. It's a festive, fun and familiar event. Let us never forget that indeed, "Freedom is not free" and in our joy not to forget the new born babe of a country that despite it's peril still celebrates with as much, if not more, gusto than we do.

Any battle, any conflict could have tipped our freedom's scales, but it did not. We, we blessed and

complex citizens, different in so many ways, united by a portion of land that touches two oceans and carries the weight of many mountains, spread dry with dramatic deserts, touched gently by forests and valleys, slapped alert by boisterous cities...We have so much just to behold, Let us bow our heads for a new idea of freedom in a far off place, 100,000 of their people enslaved to the north and an enemy that wants danger to be their bedfellow. Let us be thankful first for our nation. Then let us ask for Southern Sudan to be given a chance to grow as we have...give them peace. May they sing," Southern Sudan, the Beautiful" someday!

TO WORSHIP

Oh Lord, our Lord,

How excellent is Your name in all the earth,

Who have set Your glory above the heavens!

...When I consider Your heavens,

the moon and the stars,

which You have ordained,

What is man that You are

mindful of him

And the son of man

that You visited him?

For You have made him

a little lower than the angels,

And You have crowned him with glory and honor.

Oh, Lord, our Lord,

How excellent is Your name in all

the earth!

Psalm 8:1, 3-5, 9

When does worship take place? Used to be a standard answer for me was

Sunday morning, 10:30.

If you asked me now, I'd have to say....anytime.

For me personally there is no better time than this minute.

Please don't hear this as a brag...it's not.

It's just that each day has it moments of reminiscing. The reminders of grace and joy and all the chapters thus far in my life. All are testimonies to God's unlimited patience and grace, love, mercy...well,

you get the idea.

This morning I heard the thunder and walked out on our back porch to hear it just a little better.

As the clouds rolled in and the sound echoed across the fields, there was a stern blue jay grabbing a quick bite of food to feed his baby now out of the nest. The thunder rolled and out on a lone limb sat three baby bluebirds waiting for their father to bring on the bugs. This had to be their first day to sit together outside the box. It was time to worship.

These last few weeks have overwhelmed me. There is no time to waste. Worship is all there is to hold these moments in grateful awe. What would I do with these gifts of such joy? Just write about them?

A young dolphin comes to my shore and swims along the beach bank as I walk it. I worshiped.

A Florida sea turtle comes up from a bog in the Everglades and stares straight into my eyes. Just he and I. Obviously seeing his first human and blinking as he takes a good look, I feel the tears of

wonder start to come as I leave him hoping he will never know harm. It was time to woship.

But the same feeling can make it's way into my spirit when I'm bathing a grandchild or watching

the sun rise glorious over the cedars. When old friends visit and I see their smile once again.

When holding hands to protect a child and listen as someone shares their God story with me.

There is no better time to worship and adore the King of all kings, the Lord of all, the Creator of the universe. There is no time like the present. What has He done for you just this day alone?

Light of the world

You stepped down into darkness

Opened my eyes, let me see

Beauty that made my heart adore You

Hope of a life spent with You.

Here I am to worship

Here I am to bow down

Here I am to say that You're my God.

You're altogether lovely

Altogether worthy

Altogether wonderful to me.

I'll never know

How much it cost to see my sin

Upon that cross.

Here I am to worship

Here I am to bow down

Here I am to say that Your my God....

by Tim Hughes

(abbreviated)

It's No Wonder...

It's no wonder that I have no problem with a relationship with my heavenly Father. It comes as no surprise to me that it seems natural to talk with Him and ask Him questions, to trust Him and know He has my best interest in mind. It's not so hard when you've always had a great example for a DAD.

When your dad works hard for others and gives his best all the time..

When your dad finds good in folks even when they're not quite his type..

When your dad can fix most anything that's broken..

When your dad lends his wisdom to those who want it...

When your dad makes life simple by living unselfishly...

When your dad has always been faithful...

When your dad knows how to pray ...

When your dad would lay down his life for his family....

When your dad gives all just for the joy of giving...

I've been blessed with this example all my life

and so have my girls and now their children.

I've also been blessed to have married a wonderful dad himself who loves and respects my dad

and seeks to emulate him.

Yes, Heavenly Father, You are the best Father and You gave my family one of Your best examples on this earth.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights,

with whom is no variation or shadow of turning.

James 1:17

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DADDY!

It's the Thought That Counts

She walked in our door last evening with a jar in her hands.

"This is for you, Marmee. It's a cicada I got for you," she said as she handed me one of her mom's drinking glasses covered with a cloth and tied with ribbon. There hung a big black and orange cicada among leaves she had added for him to eat. I stared at him and he was probably buzzing at me. I'd had more than a little up-close and personal time with about 10,000 of his nearest relatives, but he was special. He was a gift. A gift from the heart of my beautiful Bri. He looked extra buzzy and I gladly placed him on the kitchen counter. She was pleased.

My neighbor came down our drive with a box in his hands. In it were two tomato plants. I had been needing some tomato plants since our Big Red excavated our garden plot so well that Nothing is safe there anymore. I took them with great joy and gratitude because there is a promise of a possible "real" tomato in my future from my very own flower bed...now mini-garden. He knew I love tomatoes.

A couple of weeks ago two of our grands spent a couple of days with us. My dog, Fluffy White,

was placed in solitary confinement because of her grouchy attitude toward my Audrey and my Whitaker and any other active person within her domain. After they were safely at home once again, I sat down to do a little catch-up computing. From behind me I hear a sound, "Hummph..

hummph..." Low, but persistent, I tried to ignore whatever it was but it was not to be daunted.

I turned in my chair to find Fluffy White wagging her tail and staring at me. In her mouth was one of the grands' stuffed animals, making her voice sound like a pillow talking. As I started to fuss, I realized that their had been very little time for dogs the last couple of days, it was time now for a little "toss the toy" before she went to bed for the night. Her gift of the unharmed toy, only

dog slobber, was a reminder that everyone needs a little attention, especially spoiled have-you-all-to-myself dogs.

Walked into my daughter's home after their vacation and was met by two grandchildren, Whitaker giving me a cross covered with shells he had picked from the beach. He was so proud to give it to me. Then Audrey presented me with a piece of paper covered with some of her favorite stickers destined for my refrigerator door. It always helps to know you're still remembered when someone is far away.

Just last night my Xavier crawled across the kitchen floor to me, pulled up on my crop-pant-legs and hugged me. That was a first hug from a rough and tumbling tiny tot now so mobile it's scary.

From cicadas to tomato plants to art projects to talking dog to crawling hugger...it all adds up to small gifts given and smiles exchanged and joy happening. It truly is the thought that counts...and putting that thought into action is best of all.

No Words Worthy

The wind is blowing here on my lane. Across the field the tree tops move like they're dancing. Voluminous clouds lounge in the sky. Bright blue...Soft white.

How quickly all this can change. This same atmosphere holds the culprit that causes tragedy and destruction while other times receiving lost balloons and soaring birds. This same sky hangs over flooded cities and still shines bright and beautiful in reflection against water that has caused tremendous destruction. That same wind grabs cities and lays them flat.

These days have been silencing. I have nothing to say.

I am so human and all that is swirling around...from water to winds ....is so much bigger and stronger than I. Guess I am just a little intimidated , sitting fragile in a world that is groaning with powerful, life-altering forces.

but ...there is Someone to talk to about those who sit in the midst of chaos, cry over losses I have never experienced... who brush away rubble and mud to try to find part of the life underneath.

I'm over whelmed and it makes me realize that my words are insignificant in the face of such loss.

My "tornadoes" have been like the wind of a box fan...my "floods" like bathtubs running over...my "tsunamis and earthquakes" like raining on a roller coaster ride. So here is my plea...

Lord have mercy,

Christ have mercy

on us...

Now we wait in faith for the renewal that will come.

Momma's Smile

I sat at my momma's side in church for 15 years. Always in the same pew. I noticed something different about her, she smiled when our pastor spoke. Since that was not the norm, I always wondered. One day I couldn't stand it any longer and I asked, "Momma, why do you smile at Dr. McCall when he is speaking?"

Her answer was classic Mable Thomas.

You see, my mom is a giver. An unselfish, no holds barred, giver. She doesn't have another mode. It is who she is and who you experience when you meet her. If you squelch that in her you would rob her of her joy. The world doesn't always know how to handle generosity of spirit and self. That's not her problem, she'll just keep it up a hundred percent no matter what.

Along with that comes unselfishness and lack of self-consciousness. Natural friendliness and passionate loyalty follow up . Needs met make her happiest.

So what was her answer to my question?

"I feel like he needs to see at least one person smiling at him as he looks out on the congregation." A gift from the heart. An encouraging one, at that.

Here we are at Mother's Day once again. What gift do I receive every time we are together?

Whether she is opening the back door to welcome us in, sitting at her table full of food that she's prepared, cleaning up the kitchen after the fact, holding a great-grand baby just days or moments old, or giving my dad his marching orders....her smile.

So here is her legacy,

"So let each one give as he purposes in his heart,

not grudgingly,

or of necessity,

for God loves a cheerful giver."

2 Corinthians 9:7 NKJV

Distant Thunder

It's raining again. The prognostactors are predicting thunderstorms. The Cumberland River, the river that gulped down Nashville, is once again looming large. There is thunder in the distance. But the robins still sing.

Here on my lane, there is a lazy, kind of still. The rest of the world however is in an uproar.

An evil, wealthy, murdering, fanatic was killed yesterdayby our military and intelligence at it's best. The US streets drew crowds of elated patrons. Just a couple of days ago a prince and a princess were officially married and the throngs of admirers were jubilant. Almost a week ago so many of us were hunkered down in our basements, closets and bathtubs, awaiting the arrival of tornadoes. The throbbing beat of rising tension in the middle east still stays constant in the background.



Gazing out my window, I can't help but think of those that are not jubilant today. Those who did indeed suffer from the weather's worst. Those who have no windows to look from. Those whose material belongings are tattered to shreds and now will be soaked by rain. Some have lost their entire town. Some lost a part of their family. Some will never recover. There are no words for this, just tears. I've been speechless with sorrow. The trail of tornadoes leaves a mark none can erase except with much time. Trees will grow back. Foundations will be rebuilt on. Trailers will be replaced. Businesses will someday reopen. Family pictures will be longed for, any glimpse of the only thing that matters in our lives...those loved and now missed.





The robins continuing to sing. The earth continues to spin on it's axis. There are somethings that are beyond our control, but nothing is beyond God's. That old song goes:


"He's got the whole world in His hands.


He's got the whole wide world in His hands.


He's got the whole world in His hands.


He's got the whole world in His hands."





Happy or devastated, tattered or celebratory, on fire or burnt out,


we are all in His hands. You can count on it. I know I am.

Love Cried Out

Love cried out


from behind


a stone.





Propelled from


midst of


rock,





Upright and


walking


resplendent,





Having stood,


hung,


died.





Now alive!


Salvation assured,


Life set free.





No more,


that old sin


now clean.





HE


holds out hope


and eternity-home.





we must


make


the decision





to receive it....





p palermo, April 24, 2011

What I Survey

Have I gazed upon the Cross today?




Before me, a plaster cross embossed with scrollwork, rubbed rough at it's edges, almost white, almost shining.




There is the cross made of many broken pieces, blue and jagged. Rusted cross, bronze cross..




Another stacked , spikelike nails held together, burnt black, painted over gold...





But...have I looked upon the Cross today?




Golden chains innocently holding a small Italian cross made of blue bits,




Long silver chain, heavy, whose lone decoration, large silver cross, rose covered..




a bracelet, dangles one single cross,




another holds twelve, all designs of different crosses..





But...Have I contempleated the Cross today?




My heart looks wildly at the Calvary Cross, the Cross of all Crosses..the one with a Savior upon it.




My eyes have a hard time keeping their gaze for violence, blood, agony, torture..




Yet fixing my eyes on the Man there, the Savior, the Crucified Lamb....




I can look upon HIM because He is and was and had looked upon me. He saw me as I was, am and will be and He died for me anyway, no holds barred.





HIS sacrifice...the LAMB of GOD who takes away the sins of the world.









How about you, have you turned your face toward the cross today? any day?



Yes, it is hard and long ago, but the beauty still is in the love bled pure over arms of innocence...His crime was love and forgiveness. He is more than an expletive, more than a character...He was more than enough.




Enough forgiveness for us all, no one can contain His love...His grace, His mercy...though on this earth, He was shown none.




When I survey the wonderous cross,


on which the Prince of Glory died,


my richest gain I count but loss


and pour contempt on all my pride.



See from His head, His hands, His feet,


sorrow and love flow mingled down.


Did e're such love and sorrow meet?


Or thorns compose so rich a crown.



Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast


Save in the death of Christ, my king.


All the vain things that charm me most,


I sacrifice them to His blood.



Were the whole realm of nature mine,


That was a present far too small.


Love so amazing , so divine,



Demands my soul, my life, my all.



Isaac Watts, 1707

The Servant King

The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under His power, and that He had come from God and was returning to God, so He got up from the meal, took off His outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, He poured water into a basin and began to wash His disciples feet,...John 13:2-5

I love this passage. It speaks volumes about the Christ I love. He knew His authority given Him by His Father. He knew where He had come from. He knew where He was to return. When I reflect on His way to the cross, His purpose for coming, His sacrificial death, it is difficult to sit and ponder so great a step toward such suffering.

Knowing where we have come from keeps us aware of what formed us to be who we are.
Knowing where we are going, our final destination, spurs us on toward that arrival. Suffering and joy and all that entails come with the journey.

Christ's examples are innumerable, but this one helps me realize that His love for His Father, His obedience and selfless ambition, were coupled with this knowledge.

Do I set my face toward my ultimate destination, my heavenly home? Do I let that fact overshadow all others? If so, I should be quite at home taking up the towel, starting my journey, "taking the very nature of a servant." My prayer is that I will fill my basin with living water and begin.

The Breeze is Blowing

Knew this was a special day, a glimpse of the wren dressing her nest with baby's breath from my deck. The titmouse fumbling for twigs through the dead thyme, still hanging from the green clay pot. Signs of preparation for birth all around. Nesting. It's a sure sign of spring.

Two weeks ago, I thought I knew spring, but then ignoring the weather, I awoke to all my wisteria buds having died in the 31 degree night air. That broke my heart. I've grieved over it and grieved some more. It does not bring them back to life. But I must go on. So today, with blue painting the sky, clouds forming with no threat intended, breeze blowing hair and gently cooling the sun's strong rays, I found it was time to be proactive. The pine straw needed to be pulled back to give the beds a time of warming, exposing any new growth I may have missed. The rain induced creek exposes new rocks. I love to look over the offering, fresh revelations of earths inner self. Today I spied something sparkling and muddied my shoes to retrieve it. A six inch piece, fossilized wasp nest covered in crystals the size of sea salt. Taking it to it's new home, It finds itself now a part of my adultified rock collection masquerading as a flower bed border. Having started the rock hunt, I find a large one I can actually carry and place it outside the fence where Rosey, the Big Red, the one with paws outstretched under the fence. The one who has dug up all of one bed and carried a blackberry bush, fresh from the fence, now uprooted and in a million pieces. That Rosey tries to quickly remove any clay I dig up as if she has a project that might require it. All of this attention done from the inside of the fence where I am out. The activity is witnessed by the white fluff dog, Callie, whose goal is to bark continuously while the rest of the world is having a peaceful day. The clay-grabber and the incessant barker...my companions as I enjoy all of the glories of spring and it's promise of more and more of the same...for me and for them. Gong inside, looking out my window, I spy one lone wisteria blossom dangling like an earring on the arbor. It's a fine sight. One beauty. One survivor. What a way to start a season. Joy all around. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;.... Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it. Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord. For He is coming.... Psalm 96:11a-13a

Cry of Creation

Tears well up and spill across my page. Will they love you? Will they know you as I have? I wonder. I close my eyes an envision who I've created and contemplate their fate. How will they be handled, be read, be remembered, or maybe not. What if they are not treated well. Misunderstood. Disregarded. Left to languish without hearing their story. What will come over me then? Will I cry and spill my disappointment, singular sadness, gushed out on paper with ink spoken words? Will I try to seem unconcerned when their very lives are at stake...at printable stake. These thoughts come to me as the revisions are revised and "my darlings", Faulkner's words,are at stake. There are so few I will relinquish without great pain. May they stay, may they live to grace a printed page? That will all depend on me. Did I write them a fair life, give them a clear voice, have them make their presence irreplaceable? My heart hurts just thinking I'll mistakenly judge them unneccessary. Already a few are gone. Here I sit with "in or out" decisons that have to be made. It's the literary way. If all the characters in all the books I've read could stand before me now, I'd know the ones who have made me laugh, cry, mad, fear, dread. Know the scary, shameful, sordid, strong. the beautiful, tragic, triumphant, brave. So many. So few stand out, but many are remembered. Several I've immulated. Some still trying to forget. The music in my head is playing now as I see my folks acting out my story. It is just that, a story. A fairy tale that happens to people that are not, but seem to be...real. I just love them. Want the best for them. Almost like my children, I want them protected from what will come and especially from me. I write on... to do them justice. To see them thrive. this blog post was supposed to be about them..... but I remembered......................................... I am a created being. My Creator has my life in His hands. He can make or take my life. He can "open any anything that is shut, shut anything that is open". Yet He doesn't worry about me. He knows all "my going outs and my coming ins". My Creator. If I being a human want good things for my created, how much more does my Heavenly Father desire for me. ... realizing I am not God, but His workmanship, I will work.. thrust Him, my Designer, to make my creations what He wants them to be, do, accomplish. He is trustworthy. My created are ultimately in the most trustworthy of Hands. I will dry my tears now. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:10

Moon and Me

Waking, seeing silver, it's 3:15 a.m. Outside our bedroom window shone a glowing old friend, the moon. This time he was only half full, but no less the white pearl in the sky. His face so familiar it seemed he was gazing into our window as if to say, "I was just in your area and wanted to say, 'Hello." I knew he was near, having been so full, so close, just nights ago. I'd missed his big display, so sorry with our life-long relationship. Now he hung, shining bright over my face, through the cedars he outlined. It's a moon bathed bed. A reflection across my cheeks that I love. I never want him to change. Lying there staring, afraid I'd miss one moment of his presence, dozing wants to take over. Then, still so enthralled, I see that he's higher in the night sky. Now traveling upwards, away from my eyes. Pulling his silver strands with him, going his ancient way. My face now losing it's glow. My eyes now unable to see his face, I unwillingly fall back to sleep. So thankful he awakened me so for a moment we could visit....face to face.

TODAY

The evening is still dimly lit. The frogs are doing their best to out-sing the robins. The geese have just flown over, heading to whatever pond they have claimed as theirs. My face is illuminated by the lap-top screen, one dog at my feet. Spring is officially here.

This has been a sweet weekend. A granddaughter captured our hearts as she blew out her four birthday candles.Aided by her brother and cousin. Her cake a creation of her great-grandmother and her aunt. All the grandchildren were entertained by running wide-open in the yard of her grandparent's farm.
All of life was illuminated by the beauty of childhood and many cherished relationships.
Quite frankly, it's almost unbelievable.

This morning, a pastor took a moment to speak to us before the teaching time began. His English difficult to understand, we sat enthralled as he spoke and wept, asking for help for his church in Japan. He was visiting here when the destruction took place and when he returns to his home it will be without many of his congregation, most of his town. He boldly asked for many volunteers to come to Japan and help his people rebuild, restore, clean away, have their spirits lifted. He had a word of welcome to any and all who would come and his small frame showed the severe sorrow he bore. Quite frankly, it's almost unbelievable.

As I sit writing this my heart is overwhelmed with joy and sorrow and hope. I pray that someday the children of his town will once again have a safe plot of ground on which to play.
That they will know there are people who care for them even though there is no way to know us.
I pray that they will be able to see joy in their families' eyes and that they too will have a time of celebration of their life. I pray we understand the beauty of our life.

With that reminder, I will embrace the life I have. I will live it to celebrate the love we have. I will be filled with gratitude for each day of life and all that means. If we have learned anything we should know from our far-eastern friends that "seize the day" is not to be ignored. We have so much to be thankful for and so much to share. I don't want to take any of this for granted.
Let's sing with the frogs and run with the kids. Eat birthday cake even when it's not our birthday. Drink deeply of the goodness. Mourn with those that mourn. Sing with those who sing. Call out the good in people and bless those around us. Life isn't always good, but God is.

So... encourage one another daily, while it is still called "Today".....
Hebrews 3:13

Wash Away

My heart and prayers are with the suffering in Japan. There is absolutely no way I can know how that experience has already drastically changed their lives. but one overriding thought keeps coming to me...


Ash Wednesday, as I sit in the sanctuary and participate in the service, I hear the words,


"Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world",


for the first time I got it.

The whole world,

all sin,


He takes it away,


just believe.


I have believed it but it suddenly became so real.....so very real.


Then came April 11. The morning broke with the news of the tsunami and then the audio and the video soon after.


It seemed so surreal. Unbelievable that so much could be swept away. So much. So big. So powerful. Such aftermath of carnage beyond anything I can fathom.


Sin. It seems so surreal that so much could be swept away. So big. So powerful. such carnage.

Beyond anything I can fathom....but


Jesus the Christ came to take our sin away. Our personal sin. He can sweep it away as far as the east is from the west. He remembers it no more. His power to completely cleanse is the higher power. More powerful than any massive destruction the earth can throw at us. If only we believe....


that He is able to save to the utmost. that He is the Son of God. He can make the foulest clean, He wants to do this for us. Have we put ourselves out there and just trusted Him? It is never to late, so why not now? He loves you more than you will ever know.


There is debris of enormous magnitude left over after the water recedes in Japan. So our lives have to deal with the aftermath of our sin, but God's grace is greater than all our sin to carry us through all the cleanup, the life change, the new start we will receive.


My prayer is that Japan will be overwhelmed by the love of the true God for them and that a new life will be theirs in every possible way. How about you...do you need this washing away of your past, that pushing away of everything in the path to true forgiveness in Christ? My prayer is that you will be overwhelmed by the love of God for you and that a new life will be yours in every possible way.

"For God so loved the world

that He gave His only Son

that whosoever believes on Him

should not perish

but have everlasting life.

He came not into the world

to condemn the world,

but that the world,

through Him,

might be saved."

John 3:16-17

(I have infused many quotes from various sources. Better words than mine.)

For Such a Time as This & Then

The frogs are singing. I love them. It's their time of year to make their presence known. They naturally have plans for all their croaks....trying to be so attractive... giving these breezy cool nights an ambiance chasing away the recent snows. Tiny bodies, no bigger than a lemon, carrying on so loud that one can hear them, doors opened wide, all down the hall to our bedroom. I just love them. So small a creature..so big an effect.

Lately, kings have been on my mind. "The King's Speech" was an amazing film, so beautifully done. My daughter, Jennifer, gave me a fascinating book, Majestie, by David Teems. A biography of King James. You know, the king behind the King James Bible. What a couple of unique individuals...King James and King Charles VI. King James was beyond an individual. Very comforting to know. His heart was truly to make the Bible available and understandable to all men who spoke English, not just the learned. He was not your pious, behind the scenes kind of king. He was an imperfect, fleshly rascal...Yet...he was used beyond his wildest imaginations.

King Charles, VI was a wonder. His stammering could have sunk a lesser man. His birth order almost derailed his ability to rule, but his brother's weak, selfish nature brought him to the forefront of a time needing much more of a sovereign. Without Charles I wonder what would have become of Europe at the hands of the tyrannical maniacs that were strangling kingdoms left and right. His people would come to depend on him and he served them well. The final scene in the film is very moving to me, because they, the sovereigns, and they, the citizens, had no idea how devastating their next years would be. But they were victorious.

Now to the frogs...
tiny, temporarily noisy, ugly, illusive...they charm and give the spring a song like no other. I'm always blessed by their coming. A small span of time.

King James was an interesting king, much like his mother, Mary, Oueen of Scots. But it is obvious he had an enormous role to play and his time was started June 19, 1566. He was born and survived to adulthood to change the world for the better...despite his imperfections. God is Sovereign.

King Charles was not supposed to be the king. He had not actually been raised to be, nor did he actually desire to be..a king. But his brother the king's desire for a forbidden marriage overrode a responsibility to his country thus making him impotent in the worst way. It was one of the greatest reigns-gone-bad in the history of the world. Charles loved his country, his family and had a sense of responsibility far beyond his brothers ability to comprehend. Where would all free people have been without the right men in the front lines against a tyrant like Hitler?Charles knew how to apply the balm of security and understanding. God is Sovereign.

So...just wondering...what about callings on our lives? Do we say, "That couldn't possibly be me that is supposed to do that with my life? I'm not made of the right stuff." Two kings and a few thousand frogs would tell you different if they could. What song are you to sing, what new territory are you supposed to open up, what battle challenges you?

Do not miss your place in history....from the pond or the castle or your own piece of turf.


But Moses said to God,
"Who am I,
that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?"

And God said,
"I will be with you. "

Exodus 3:11 & 12a
**********************************
Mordecai to Queen Esther,
"....and who knows but that you have come to royal position
for such a time as this?"

Esther 4:14b
**************************************
All we have to decide is what to do with the time
that is given us.

J. R. R. Tolkien
***************************************

May we all make the most of our lives.

TO SEE WITH NEW EYES.

Tuesday morning, tiptoed into my daughter's home. The home where just yesterday my seventh grandchild and fifth grandson was born, just minutes before I arrived that early Monday morning. All was well and peace reigned. There before me lay a quarter-hour-old babe

wrapped in a towel. A towel I had seen on bare bottoms coming from the tub, now over the bare and brand new of the world. He lay so softly as he left his mother's breast. He barely moved but to breathe and show his arms from the swaddle where he lay. It was once again brand new.


Now to Tuesday..I come to help and spend time with the other tots that sit at their breakfast table, ready for the new day. Still in their pajamas, life going on, baby brother sleeps close by.

Today though there will be a milestone of enormous proportions. I will gaze upon his gaze. He will open his eyes and I will be there. Eyes innocent and deep blue that they say cannot actually see what they are "staring" at. Yet he stares. I stare back and it occurs to me, "I wonder what it's like to see for the first time, to have no idea what you have before you, to have no real frame of reference? Nothing to blur your vision, no preconceived notion. What does innocence actually 'SEE'?



That wonder remained all week and each time I held him, like I had each grand baby before, I just wanted to look into his eyes,to take him in, to give him the chance to take me in, this body with no name just yet, this one named Marmee, how do we bond so quickly? But this time it occurred to me...how do we "SEE"? What lens do we use to stare into someone?



What does it take for us to truly gaze into a person's being? Gauge the situation? How hard is it to walk over our preconceived notions, the word from others, our own personal experience, the communication mega flood? Babies have none of that. They are able to monitor a small area that enlarges daily. They are registering what they hear and feel with senses that are completely pure. Watch their little faces when their mother or their daddy speaks to them...it's undeniable..they know them, but how?


With all my heart I believe that we all still have this pure ability to "SEE". The many forms of visual and audible communication are no substitute for what our spirits are able to show us. This is not mystical, or weird. It's who were meant to be....to hear the heart of God who wants to put within us all His great love for us, His deep desire to care for us, help us, comfort and calm us. He will help us to see like a babe if we just ask and believe the vision we once relied on, the newborn kind, is able to be restored. Able to be used in all areas where we find ourselves needy...I know I have many of those.


Just like the innocence of an infant, we are just as vulnerable. Able to be hungry, hurt. Needing to be comforted, protected, warmed and cleaned, nurtured...loved. Here we now stand...farther along in the process of age...walking upright...talking, smelling, hearing, ingesting. We are just older babies and we can see with new eyes....if we just will.


"as it is written:

'no eye has seen,

no ear has heard,

no mind conceived

what God has prepared for

those who love Him'



but God has revealed it to us by

His Spirit.

The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.

For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man's spirit within him?

In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.

We have not received the spirit of the world but

the Spirit who is from God,

that we may understand what God has freely given to us.


I Corinthians 2:9-12 NIV