Tuesday, February 20, 2024

 


                                                                            A Work Of Heart


Those of you who know me, are aware that I love bargain shopping. It is also widely known that I am frugal, ok, I am a cheapskate. Thrift stores, yard sales etc. are my favorite places to shop. My eyes quickly pass over the “junky” cheap stuff, until they light on a treasure. Luckily for me, there is a store close by, called Treasure Bins. Let me fill you in. This business buys pallets of goods from the likes of Target and Amazon to name a few. On Thursday, the bins are restocked, and on Friday morning everything is priced at $10. While there are plenty of treasures to be snapped up, I, the Queen of Cheap wait it out till Wednesday when everything that remains is $1!!!! Be still my beating heart!!
Recently, while perusing the heaps of cheap, I came across a paint by number kit. I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t anything like those kits from the 50s and 60s. They were awful, cardboard Picassos, the finished project looked nothing like a masterpiece. While pondering if it was worth my dollar, the small inset, on the package, displayed what the painting would look like. A lovely patch of brilliant red poppies, dancing in the summer sun, sealed the deal for me. It was the dark, colorless days of January, and this offered a mindless diversion from the gloom. When I opened the small box, the first thing I pulled out was a folded square of artist’s canvas, about 16”x20”. Next the tiny paint containers, brushes the size of several eyelashes, a small picture of the completed project, and the directions. I wanted to begin right away, but somehow, I had to get those folds out. My brain said the best course of action would be heat and pressure, so down to the ironing board I went. It wasn’t 100% smooth, but good enough, those paints were calling to me. Setting the manufacture’s instructions aside, I selected the brightest red I could find, and so it began. The canvas outline held the promise of what the real artist intended. There were so many miniscule spaces to fill in, I wondered if I could achieve what he had in mind. The actual painting process took time, a steady hand and patience. As you might guess, God began to dialogue with me during the process. He pointed out that he had selected me, years ago, from a pile of beat-up junk. Like the artist, He was my creator, and I the work of art. The folded, numbered canvas, was the plan he had for my life. I was created with a magnificent potential, but I had to be straightened out, and yield my life to His vision. Not unlike the canvas, He applied gentle heat and loving pressure to my “folds”. While not perfect, he then allowed me to pick up the brush. The outline He prepared was clear, but he also gave me freedom to color outside of the lines, if I so chose. I could have painted blue in the orange area, or brown in the white, and many times I did, spiritually speaking. When those times came, and they still do, I went back to the small sample picture, found in His word, to remind me of His perfect outcome for me. I’m proud to say that I finished that earthly painting, and it turned out beautifully. God is still helping me complete the work He began, every day adding new color, dimension and beauty to me, His masterpiece. “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Phil. 1:6
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Friday, September 1, 2023

                                                   



                                                           The Marriage Road Trip

Today, 49 years ago, Joe and I were married. It was a small ceremony, and only a few close friends and immediate family attended. At the end of the reception, we loaded our personal baggage into Joe’s Capri, and headed out on the road trip of life. Anyone who has ever been married, or still is, knows that at some point that baggage is going to get unpacked. Peering over the top of your own case, which is so thoughtfully filled, you notice the crazy things your spouse has stuffed in theirs. Why in the world did they think they needed all that junk? It’s useless, ugly, won’t fit in my plans, and now my eye is beginning to twitch. Of course, as they linger lovingly over every piece of theirs, concern builds while eyeing your mounting treasure cache. It starts innocuously enough. You like the drapes closed all day, and they want sunlight. What do you mean my meatloaf is just OK? I didn’t know you loved old westerns. Your parents did thus and such one way, well mine did it differently. Who is right? Is there even a right or wrong at all? All the trappings we hauled up to the altar have become fuel for the fire. Huffs and puffs of exasperation fan it into flame. The pleasant road trip is getting bumpier day by day. I mention all this, not to be a Donnie Downer, but a realist. Marriage is not the easy, breezy sojourn we anticipate. Joe and I are about as different as two people can get, or as the Brits say as chalk and cheese. Totally diverse upbringings, religion, well, just about everything. It’s at this point many couples say, I’m not happy, and I want out. Divorce has become the go-to solution, but is it? One of my favorite quotes on the subject comes from Billy Graham’s wife. When asked in an interview if she had ever considered divorce, she adamantly replied NO, followed immediately by, murder, YES!! I laugh out loud every time I hear that, and don’t deny it, you’re doing the same. So, when the road trip vehicle begins to head for the ditch, and let’s face it they all do, what are you going to do? Reach for the murder weapon? Okay, let’s agree that’s not the best choice. So, then what? As Joe says we have to endure some things, putting up with for the good of the institution. While we may not have known 49 years ago what our journey would entail, we knew that we had entered a covenant relationship. We both knew that the pact was not merely between we two imperfect humans, but included God as the third partner. A three strand cord is not easily broken. Ecc. 4:12 . That said, marriage still isn’t easy, nor does it always make you happy. Nothing in life of great value is always satisfying. It takes work, tears, suffering, lots of prayer, respect, love and yes, endurance. But, through it all, faithfulness will bring God’s blessings. Yes, we have been the recipients of those blessings in all areas of our earthly travels, including family, friends and satisfying work. Recently we became the owners of this 1995 Jeep. We call her Nellie Belle, like the one on the old Roy Rogers show. She is a material blessing, to be sure, but one we have been enjoying immensely. Her solid frame and over-sized tires, and with God’s help, will keep us contentedly moving forward on the marriage road trip to #50. Give honor to marriage, and remain faithful to one another in marriage. Hebrews 13:4





Thursday, June 8, 2023

                                                                Grapes 1 Giants 0

Did you ever wonder why the nation of Israel wandered for 40 years in the wilderness? I thought I knew, and I was partially correct, they had made God mad. There was the Golden Calf incident, then the constant griping about food and, lack of cucumbers. The list went on and on. Suffice it to say, they were an ungrateful bunch, and that’s a fact. They had seen all the miracles, while still slaves in Egypt, and then the many blessing on their journey, but still they weren’t satisfied. So, what was the act that pushed God over the edge? And, why was 40 years the chosen number? If you’re ready for an adventure, don your sandals and SPF 90, we’re heading back to the desert of discontent.
The land of promise lay before the nation of Israel. Literally, just a stone’s throw across the Jordan. God wanted the assembly to be certain of His promise of milk and honey, so he put together a team of 12 men to go in and bring back proof. One stalwart, God-fearing man from each of the 12 tribes was assigned to be a “spy”. Their mission was to scope out the land, the crops, and the inhabitants of their soon to be new home. So, with God’s guidance, they set off. On the journey we are told, in the book of Numbers, that they found all sorts of luscious fruits. In fact, one cluster of grapes they cut down, took two men to carry it. When they finally returned, after 40 days in Canaan, the crowd was there to meet and greet. I’m sure there were oohs and ahhs over the fruit, but then the rest of the story was told. This was their report to Moses: “We entered the land you sent us to explore, and it is indeed a bountiful country—a land flowing with milk and honey. Here is the kind of fruit it produces. 28But the people living there are powerful, and their towns are large and fortified. We even saw giants there, the descendants of Anak! the Amalekites live in the Negev, and the Hittites, Jebusites, and Amorites live in the hill country. The Canaanites live along the coast of the Mediterranean Seaa and along the Jordan Valley.”
30But Caleb tried to quiet the people as they stood before Moses. “Let’s go at once to take the land,” he said. “We can certainly conquer it!”
31But the other men who had explored the land with him disagreed. “We can’t go up against them! They are stronger than we are!” 32So they spread this bad report about the land among the Israelites: “The land we traveled through and explored will devour anyone who goes to live there. All the people we saw were huge. 33We even saw giantsb there, the descendants of Anak. Next to them we felt like grasshoppers, and that’s what they thought, too!” Numbers 13:27-33
I’m sure they saw all that frightening stuff, but what they forgot was God’s promise. God had sworn to them that this precious parcel was their inheritance. Even if it looked impossible to possess, God would go before them to seal the deal. However, we humans can only comprehend what our natural eyes see. They saw giants, and fear instead of faith overwhelmed them. Only two men out of the twelve believed, Joshua and Caleb. They were fortified by God’s supernatural power, and saw the victorious outcome through His eyes. The report upset the majority of the folks, and things got ugly. Then the whole community began weeping aloud, and they cried all night. 2Their voices rose in a great chorus of protest against Moses and Aaron. “If only we had died in Egypt, or even here in the wilderness!” they complained. 3“Why is the LORD taking us to this country only to have us die in battle? Our wives and our little ones will be carried off as plunder! Wouldn’t it be better for us to return to Egypt?” 4Then they plotted among themselves, “Let’s choose a new leader and go back to Egypt!”
How could they forget all the miracles they had witnessed so quickly? The fear-filled words of mere men had influenced them more than the promise of God. It got so bad that they wanted to kill Moses, Aaron, Joshua and Caleb. God was not happy, to put it mildly. He wanted to wipe out the whole ungrateful bunch on the spot. Moses intervened, but the damage had been done. The promise was so close, but now it would be so far away. For every day the spies were gone, 40, that generation of people would wander one year in the wilderness, and never receive their legacy.
What wonderful gifts are we forsaking because of what our human eyes and ears perceive? Actually, it’s much easier to believe what we see. Faith is a gift, but it is also a choice that only we can make. Every newscast, in our modern world, makes us forget the cluster of grapes, because the giants look larger. Good news, God is in the giant-slaying business. Yes, my eyes see that the world is teeming with evil and giants, so daily I must remind myself of His covenant. What giants are your in fear of today? Make the choice to have God’s supernatural vision and faith. Look, God is holding out those succulent grapes.
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Tuesday, April 4, 2023

                                                        


                                                         A Pearl Of Great Value


Yes, it’s true, I’m a cruciverbalist. And, no, it’s nothing I can be arrested for! I am, in fact, a lover of crossword puzzles. I remember laughing at my Dad for doing them, calling it an old-person past time. Alas, I have now entered the geriatric realm, and hence my affection for these often-tricky challenges. Must be in the DNA. Anyway, he used to say that certain words show up regularly. One such example is “nacre” or mother-of-pearl the hard pearly iridescent substance forming the inner layer of a mollusk shell. I tucked it away for another day’s puzzle, or for use on a final Jeopardy. It didn’t find it’s way into many daily conversations, but it was a unique noun. Not too long ago, I was privileged to hear it used in a sermon. The same elation I feel when I, alone, have the correct answer on Final Jeopardy struck me. He’s going to talk about nacre, I told the lady sitting next to me. She gave me the look, but I didn’t mind, I knew I was right. Returning to earth, I wondered how this rather obscure term was going to fit into a Bible lesson. Well, let me tell you, it was a gem (pun intended). He directed us to the book of Revelation. In this chapter, God is describing to the Apostle John, who is exiled on the isle of Patmos, what the New Jerusalem/Heaven was going to look like. The full account of which I will share another day. Today, let’s concentrate on the gates in this 1500-mile x 1500 mile cube. “The twelve gates were made of pearls—each gate from a single pearl!” Rev.21:21 Okay, so what, everyone has heard about the Pearly Gates. St. Peter, with keys in hand, hangs out there. When the new arrivals appear he either opens those gates, or hands them a hand basket, for their trip to H-E-double hockey sticks. Erase that picture. These weren’t your garden-variety gates, oh no! They are nothing like the ones we’ve seen. Try to visualize a single pearl 430 feet tall and 190 feet wide. No WD 40 needed to oil the hinges on those babies. The entrance was a tunnel through the middle. Now that you have a general idea of size, let’s see what part nacre plays in this scripture. Pearls, unlike other jewels, which are mined, are made by marine oysters and freshwater mussels as a natural defense against an irritant such as a parasite entering their shell or damage to their fragile body. God designed the oyster to slowly secret layers of aragonite and conchiolin, materials that also make up its shell. This creates a material called nacre, also known as mother-of-pearl, which encases the irritant and protects the mollusk from it. Nacre can form naturally around almost any irritant or wound inside the shell. Stay with me as I paint this picture for you. We have to travel back to the book of Isaiah 53:5, “But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: “ Jesus was wounded for our sins, everyone’s since time began, until it ceases. He could have let them fester, or sought revenge, we deserved it, but he didn’t. Instead, God coated each one with His divine nacre! Is it making sense now? Jesus took our sins and made them into something sublime. The entrance to our eternal home is composed of nacre-covered wounds. Wounds we inflicted on his sinless body. “But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.” Rom. 5:8. The mental image that I received, brought me to my knees in tears. Grace, the gift that none of us can earn, is freely available to all who truly believe. God holds the entrance pass, but only our faith in Christ and his blood sacrifice claims it for us. Sadly, many of them are tucked inside those hell-bound handbaskets. Today, take time to meditate on this picture. Read Revelation 21. Ask the Holy Spirit to guide and fortify you. Let him remove any doubts or misconceptions. Remember, salvation is free, but it cost God everything.







Thursday, March 30, 2023

 

                                              I Once Was Blind, But Now I See


   As he entered their cramped home, a toddler, named Josiah, reached out for his busy mother. First one chubby hand, and then the other, caressed her careworn face and silky hair. As he traced the profile of his beloved Mama, a question formed on his 3-year-old lips.  “Mama, what is a sinner?”, he innocently asked. “Where did you hear that word?” was her startled reply. “From the children in our village. They will not play with me, because they say you and Abba are sinners, maybe even me.” he said.  He felt the tear drop as it fell down her cheek.  She knew from his birth that this day was coming. The time when she would have to answer his question, but how?  He was the youngest of her large brood, and secretly her favorite. His docile nature, and sunny smile captivated friends and family alike. “Such a good baby,” everyone agreed. Those early months were precious, but it soon became obvious that this cherished, perfect child had a flaw. His eyes did not focus on her face, even a bright object held before him was ignored. Excuses were made for the slow development, but as he reached his first birthday there was no denying the problem.  He was blind.  Blind, the very word caused terror in the parents.  How can we protect him from harm? Will he be able to learn a skill?  But, worst of all, what will people say.?  As obedient Jews, they knew the answer to that one.  An affliction, such as this, had only one source, SIN.  In anguish the mother and father consulted with the Rabbi, offered blood sacrifices, to atone for their transgressions, and prayed. They understood that no one had ever been healed from blindness, but still they sought God. 

As the years passed, and the boy became a of age, he realized that the only way to provide for himself, and aging parents, was to beg. Daily, he made his way to a spot outside the synagogue.  Some passersby took pity on him, tossing a few coins in his basket. Others preferred to mock and accuse him of the sin he wore like a cloak.  Yes, he had no vision, but his other senses were heightened.  The cruel words had hurt him in the early years, but he was used to them by now. As he sat, hour after hour, he often thought of what it meant to be blind. Having never seen, it was his normal. How can you miss what you never had. People would tell him how blue the sky was, or how lovely the spring flowers were.  He would smile and respond that the sun’s warmth felt like a favorite blanket, and the perfumed air that enveloped him, like Eden.  His reality was blindness. The cause, sin. The cure, none. All the Jewish teachings told him so. Knowing no other life, he became complacent with his fate.  One early spring day, he heard the approach of strangers.  Their coarse accent gave them away, Nazarenes.  Some of the men, seeing that he was blind, asked their Rabbi, whose sin it was that had caused his condition, his or his parents. The blind man’s keen ears listened for the usual reply.  But, today was different, he could feel an inexplicable power surround him. In anticipation he listened as the teacher answered. It is neither his nor his parent’s sin,” he proclaimed.  Josiah gasped.  Then whose sin, was it?  In rapt attention, he waited for the next words.  “This has happened so the power of God can be seen in him.” What can this mean?  All my life I have believed it was sin that cursed me, now I hear good news.  Jesus, the young Rabbi who was speaking, turned his attention to Josiah.  Through the din of the crowd, he could hear him spit on the dusty ground making a clay with his saliva. Strong, yet gentle hands lifted up his head, and applied the mud to his eyes. Years ago, a doctor had tried this same method, but this was different. Jesus offered no rote prayer, or incantation, but his power, and the authority in his voice filled the now silent courtyard. “Go wash your eyes in the pool of Siloam.  This pool was refreshed constantly from a water channel that King Hezekiah had built years before.  Josiah jumped to his feet in obedience to the command.  The pool had always been a pleasant place to relax, but now as he washed the mud off, he not only felt the water, he saw it run though his fingers! Running back, he yelled, “I can see, I can see!”  Those standing by could not believe it. They doubted it was the same man.  He looks like him, they thought, but this is impossible. No, cried Josiah, it is I, and I can see!  Who did this to you? Someone named Jesus. Where is he? Retelling the story in detail, some of the crowd began to grumble.  As they ran to tell the Pharisees, they shouted you cannot work on the Sabbath.  When the Pharisees arrived, they questioned the man repeatedly, wanting to know who had broken the law by healing on the Sabbath, ignoring the supernatural. Others among them believed it a miracle, and so there began a division of opinion. By this time, his parents were aware of what had happened.  In fear of persecution from the Romans and the powerful Pharisees, they declined to answer, sending them back to their son.  Fear, however, could not hide the joy that filled their hearts.  In exasperation, Josiah made it clear that God does not listen to sinners, thus this Jesus must be acting for God. Finally, he shouted, “I don’t know if he is a sinner, but this much I do know, once I was blind, but now I can see.”  As I think back on my own spiritual journey, from blindness to light, I see the similarities.  Josiah and I were used to our condition. We both lived life without the light of Christ. I thought the minimal knowledge I had of God was sufficient. Why seek anything deeper. Maybe you felt that way too. At a point, however, I too heard the voice of Christ, speaking directly to me. He applied that same mud to my eyes, allowing me to see him clearly for the first time.  In our story, Jesus returns to Josiah and asks him if he believes in the Son of Man?  Not totally sure of the question, he says he want to believe. Who wouldn’t?  Jesus asks that age old question to every human being. Josiah’s reply, yes Lord I believe, came not from knowledge of scripture or church attendance, but from God revealing himself. Josiah fell at the feet of Jesus and worshipped. The Bible doesn’t tell us what became of this man, but I’m pretty certain he never stopped telling his story.  Now, let’s look at the other reactions of those who witnessed this miracle. The disciples were only interested in finding out whose sin was responsible. The blind beggar meant nothing to them. The Pharisees were angry, demanding, and blind to the situation. The parents were afraid.  While some were open to belief, many were held back by the demands of the Law. Only the blind man fell to the ground in worship, giving all the glory to God. Jesus came to truly open the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf.  If that doesn’t make you want to worship, you need your eyes checked. “I entered this world to render judgment—to give sight to the blind and to show those who think they seee that they are blind.” John 9:39. What condition are your spiritual eyes in
? Do you only think you can see?  Jesus longs to give you 20/20 vision.  Then you too can declare, I once was blind, but now I see!! 

                                   

Friday, March 25, 2022

Try it, You'll Like it! 


When I was a child, we used to go to my aunt’s house for Christmas.  She didn’t have children, so the only toy she had was a set of Lincoln Logs. We made do.  On the plus side, she always made a good meal, and for dessert served her special cheesecake.  The oohs and ahhs began as she carried it to the table.  My Dad, in particular, loved this confection.  I, on the other hand, was not convinced.  Every year he’d tell me how wonderful it was.  “Try some”, he’d say, “it tastes like ice cream”, or some other delicacy I could relate to. No matter how delightful he made it sound, I couldn’t get over the name, CHEESECAKE. The only cheese I was familiar with were those waxy slices my Mom sometimes bought, and I wasn’t crazy about them.  Why in the world would I want to consume a cake made of waxy cheese? But I always remembered my Dad’s words, “Try it, you’ll like it!”   Good news, I finally overcame my aversion.  Company Cheesecake is delicious, and low and behold, contains no waxy cheese!  As I look back, I wonder how long I avoided it, for the wrong reason.  Fast forward a bunch of years to when I was in college. My parents had relocated to another state, and had joined a church.  Not any church, but one where they toted Bibles and said Amen! Again, it was my Dad who asked me to try it. I hate to admit it, but I did the same thing with a relationship with God, as I did the cheesecake.  All I could remember of “church”, as a kid, was dull, stuffy and waxy like that yucky cheese.  Why in the world would I want to try that.  No thanks!

Nothing could that sound appealing, or so I thought.  My folks hadn’t been “religious” before, so what precipitated this drastic change? I chalked it up to a middle-age crisis, and hoped they would come to their senses, soon!  As it turned out, someone had approached them and asked them to try God, when they had been in a desperate place. Now they were a threat to my Sunday peace and quiet.  “Come with us today, you’ll like it”, they’d say.  What I wasn’t aware of was their fervent prayers for me.  Through a series of events, I was asked to sing at a church revival.  This was way out of my comfort zone, so you know it was a God thing when I said yes.  I couldn’t just leave when I had finished, so I sat, and “tried”.  Next thing you know, they served up a big ole’ piece of spiritual cheesecake. The flavor of His word was ambrosia to my hungry soul. I was wrong about cheesecake, and now I had been proven wrong about a tasteless God.  Have you ever felt that way about God?  Are you feeling that way now?  I can relate, and my prayer is for you to taste and see.  He’s way better than cheesecake, and no calories either!



Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him! Psalm 34:8




                                                                                 

Wednesday, March 23, 2022



Resist, Don't Persist 


I’ve been reading the C.S, Lewis classic, The Screw Tape Letters, recently. If you’re unfamiliar, I’ll give you a brief synopsis.  Screwtape, an accomplished demon in Satan’s employ, is writing letters to his nephew, Wormwood, in an attempt help him win converts.  The book was written in 1942, but is just as applicable today as any time in Christian history. One of the letters elaborates on how to treat the “patient” (the convert-in-the-making) when he is in a trough, or rut as we would call it. Discouragement is probably the greatest of Satan’s tools.  Once he can pry into a patient’s heart, it’s a simple trip to get him to forget about God.  Bingo, another one-way ticket to

H E Double Hockey Sticks, gets printed up.  Let’s face it we’ve all been in that ticket line one time or another. The issue for us is, how do I get out?  My kindergarten granddaughter has been dealing with some changes in her life recently.  You could say she was in a trough.  She’d dissolve in tears at the thought of school, new situations, old situations, well, you name it, they all bothered her.  God laid it on my mind to talk to her about the book, and address her own sneaky demon.  I decided to call him Slimyblob.  As we chatted, we drew pictures of him, and discussed the power she had, through Jesus, to make him go.  We had a great time, and it helped!!  I even wrote an accompanying poem for her to recite next time he rears his slimy head.  I think we can all benefit from it.  I know I can! Here it is:

 

I know a little demon, Slimyblob’s his name.

He loves to scare me, everyday

It is his favorite game.

 

I asked him why he does it,

He laughed and told me, SIT!

The Big Boss makes me bug you,

If not, he’d have a fit!

 

It’s my job to make you sad,

I love to see you cry.

We demons work for Satan,

And he’s a nasty guy!

 

Don’t ever mention Jesus,

I’ll tell you he’s a phony.

You can’t trust in what he says,

It’s nothing but baloney!

 

Well, what he said it made me mad.

I know it isn’t true.

Jesus isn’t lunchmeat,

He’s loving through and through!

 

“Get back to where you came from!”

I yelled in his green face.

You have no power over me,

So, get out of my space!

 

He had to leave, that is the rule,

And all the demons know it.

Cause when I call on Jesus’ name,

He has to make a quick split!

 

Oh, he’ll be back, I know he will.

That’s what demons do.

So, I’ll be ready next time,

To remind him, God, of you!!

 

Please be emboldened and encouraged by this power and authority that Jesus left us.  So, next time you find yourself in a trough, tell him to hit the road in the name of Jesus.  Now that’s good news!!  Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. James 4:7