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Archive for the ‘Guidance’ Category

Barking enraged shepherd dog outdoors

Our outdoor dog raised quite a ruckus at about two o’clock this morning. Clearly, someone (or something), was in the yard because she was loudly sounding her full-out intruder alert; ready to attack. As three of us hurried outside to confront this unseen foe, I couldn’t help but think how foolish a person would have to be to jump a fence and prowl around a yard that housed a German Shepherd –and yes, there are guard dog signs up to warn any would-be intruders.

Oddly, our girl kept running in and out of the pool yard in full-attack mode, but she didn’t tear into anyone. Clearly she wasn’t after a coon or a possum because she has a distinctly different bark for those. Her bark is also different when alerting us to people on the road just outside our property. No, this was different —more vicious— but it didn’t seem that anyone was in the yard after all.

At first I was puzzled. Then I saw it, MOVEMENT! And to be honest, I chuckled. Had our dog been as tall as me, she might have figured out what the movement was; but she is only half my height, so the top of the (above ground) pool is way above her head. From the porch she could see the pool float moving about in the current, but she could only see the pillow portion, and that on the dark side of the pool.

Normally we don’t leave floats or toys in the pool so the sight, more specifically the movement, would certainly have been alarming for our ever-vigilant watch dog. Had I taken the float out, as per our custom, I might have spared our household, and probably three others, from being disturbed in the middle of the night, but I’ll just chalk it off as a lesson learned and hope the neighbors didn’t mind the urgent barking too much —better safe than sorry, after all.

After loving on our girl for awhile, I patted her on the head and told her what a good job she was doing then came inside to wind down before going back to bed. As I sat in my chair, this scripture came to mind:

Abstain from all appearance of evil. I Thessalonians 5:22

Our dog doesn’t really avoid every appearance of “evil,” She attacks it head-on. To her way of thinking, any creature, two-legged or four, that enters her yard, is an enemy to be slain.

If only God’s children would have kept that attitude in regards to compromise, I thought, this country might still be a Christian nation. But sadly, we have let too many evils creep in —into our churches, our society, our culture—because we didn’t recognize those evils for what they truly were. We also made too many compromises with many of the more subtle evils in our attempt to reach the unchurched with the Gospel. Sure, we meant well, but rather than succeeding in pulling people up, we slowly, but surely, allowed our own standards of holiness to be lowered, both in our churches and in our nation.

I have, over the course of time, asked several pastors the following question: Does the end (higher church attendance) ever justify the means (seeker-friendly gimmicks) if the means violates God’s instruction? I have seldom heard a pastor answer no. “Yes,” they say. “So long as we are getting people into the church, God will understand.” I DISAGREE! Why? Our god told us to abstain from the very appearance of evil. He tells us from cover-to-cover in our Bibles that we are absolutely forbidden from mixing the holy with the profane. If our church services look more like worldly concerts or pep rallies, we must ask ourselves if we are being obedient to God’s word. There are other examples I could use as well, but you get the point.

Where do we draw the line? You may ask. Well, if we don’t know the answer to that question, perhaps it is time for us to pray until we do. Meanwhile, it would be in our best interest to be on full-out intruder alert when it comes to even the appearance of evil. True, we may sometimes bark at something that isn’t truly a danger, but again, it is better to be safe than sorry. If we, God’s people, don’t stand up for what is right, who will? Friends, when it comes to sin and evil, let us learn a lesson from our canine protectors and attack them head-on!

As I always say, the people who care the most are they who care enough to speak the truth; in love, of course.

pencil lady

⇒Disclaimer: My apologies for the following advertisement, if applicable. I would like this site to be an advertisement-free site, but I have to pay a fee for this. I plan to do so in future, but for now, please know that I have nothing to do with advertisements &/or advertisement selection.

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caring hands cropped

A Stroke of Providence

One-hundred-fifty years ago or so, Charles Spurgeon penned the following words: “I would go to the deeps a hundred times to cheer a downcast spirit. It is good for me to have been afflicted, that I might know how to speak a word in season to one that is weary.” Heaven knows I have been afflicted more times than I can even recall, yet little did I know when I posted Spurgeon’s words one month ago that  they would be somewhat prophetic for what was soon to come; a mild stroke was on the horizon.

The emergency room doctor seemed very nonchalant about the whole thing. In all fairness, however, the waiting rooms were packed, and the good doctor did look like he had already been worn clean smooth, as they say in the south. A few questions and the compulsory, “Be sure to follow-up with your physician,” and off he went.

My physician seemed equally indifferent. Stroke damage is irreparable, he explained. When one has a stroke, that part of the brain that was damaged doesn’t ever come back to life. He also explained the probability for a future occurrence (which I don’t accept), prescribed a drug that “might” help lessen the odds, and sent me on my way.

Irreparable, my foot, I said to myself as I exited the building; I will come out on-top of this thing —watch me!

The damage was certainly noticeable, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. For a period of two weeks or so, I sounded like Porky the Pig. By way of explanation for international readers, Porky is a cartoon character who st-st-st-stutters. My thoughts were somewhat intact, but I couldn’t get my words to come out clearly for the life of me. What frustrated me the most, aside from not being able to clearly communicate, was that my left arm, which throbbed most of the time, lost all strength and tended to draw-up on me. There were other problems too, like migraines and repeated face numbness, but I kept reminding myself that God was still on His throne and that “this [challenge] too shall pass.”

I’m not taking the drug. As providence would have it, my family has been, for years, under the care of one of the best alternative wellness providers in the nation, a man who also happens to be one of the most godly men I know. He was, and is, working closely with me to find the root cause so that this doesn’t happen again. [Thanks again, Dr. Ben, I greatly appreciate you.]

I am also doing my part to expedite my healing. I reminded my body that I am more than a conqueror through Christ, my Lord (Romans 8:37) and I let my body know in no uncertain terms that I was going to call the shots, and not the other way around.

Day after day, I fumbled through tongue-twisters and other recitations, in order to force my thoughts and speech to connect. I also forced my arm to move, and work, even when it didn’t want to. It wasn’t always easy. I knocked a lot of things over, and spilled a lot, but still I persisted.

There is much more that I could say about this whole ordeal, but for time’s sake, I will jump to the good news; then share a few additional thoughts.

It has been just shy of one month since I had the stroke and I am currently feeling pretty good, almost back to normal. My speech may still have a few glitches in it, but I sound like myself again. My arm almost has full range of motion again, doesn’t throb and is regaining its strength, and the headaches are diminishing. God is faithful and He has acted on my behalf! I realize I still have a way to go, but I also know that He will continue to see me through. He who has begun a good work will be faithful to complete it.

And now, I want to share something interesting. In that first week or so following my trip to the emergency room, while I was st-str-struggling to get most words out, I could recite Scripture verses almost flawlessly. I marvel that the Word of God is more a part of me, than the very blood coursing through my veins.

I shared with my husband, through broken words, what was happening and how awesome I thought it was that my inner-spirit was not affected the way my body was. On the contrary, at a time when I could have easily been downcast, my faith effortlessly rose-up  in leaps and bounds.

My precious Lord showed me so many times, and in so many ways, through all of this that He was right there with me, communing with me, strengthening me. I had trouble remembering simple things, yet I easily remembered a great many verses to those old, beautiful hymns —verses that I hadn’t heard in many years. The Lord spoke to me, through those old hymns, especially. Song after song played through my mind effortlessly, as though I had  heard them only yesterday.

My theme song for those first few weeks was selected for me by my Heavenly Father. Time after time, I found myself singing or humming, Great is Thy Faithfulness.¹

“Great is Thy faithfulness!” “Great is Thy faithfulness!”
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
“Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

I am not sharing all of this with you, dear reader, to boast of my spirituality —God forbid! No, I am sharing this with you to remind each and every one of you of God’s faithfulness. In fact, the song above was penned by Thomas Obediah Chisholm, a man whose health was so fragile that he was often confined to bed for long periods of time. The greatest hymns, it seems, were often penned by those who daily relied on God’s faithfulness to see them through great struggles and challenges.

Finally, dear reader, may I say that I do not believe that it is the Lord’s desire that His children suffer. I do, however, believe that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). I also believe that God can help us to draw upon our own experiences of suffering and trials in such a way that we can, in turn, be a blessing to others. Charles Spurgeon certainly understood that through our own afflictions, we gain the empathy to speak a word in season to another that is weary. May we follow in his footsteps.

¹Great is Thy Faithfulness. Words by Thomas Obediah Chisholm. 1923

fear not

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pig.jpg

I can say with certainty that it is not a good idea to ride a pig bareback. On the other hand, it is a hysterical thing to watch if you are on the outside of the pen. I know this because I once busted a gut watching my younger sister’s efforts to conquer a big fat hog. Incidentally, those porkers can really move when they’re riled.

With lightning speed, the hog violently bucked my sister off; which would have silenced me at that very moment had she not fallen into a fresh, mucky puddle of piggy poo– that was just too riotous for constraint.

The hog, relieved to have thrown its burden, paced frantically back and forth squealing some unintelligible swine dialect, uncertain of what to do next. But when my sister stood up, the furious beast decided to charge; she barely cleared the pen before it slammed against the railing in an effort to nail her. That brought me to my senses rather abruptly.

I could just imagine the next day’s headlines: “Nine-year-old girl is killed by charging pig; thirteen-year-old killed by parents for letting it happen!”

Even though she was only bruised and shaken, I was angry that my sister had not listened to me when I forbid her to climb into that pig pen. Then again, she always was pig-headed (pun intended). She just grinned smugly and proclaimed with more than a hint of arrogance: “See, told you I could do it!”

Truthfully, I never really doubted it. That girl was always one to grab the bull by the horns- or the pig by the ears- and seize as much of life’s gusto as she could manage. Though I would never have told her so, I secretly admired my sisters’ sense of adventure and her limitless courage. (Don’t tell her I said that- I would never hear the end of it.)

I, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Whereas my sister had been raised in such a way as to believe nothing was impossible to her, I was conditioned to believe that everything was. I had absolutely no self-confidence and was pretty much afraid of my own shadow, so I always played it safe. Being an incredibly difficult hurdle to clear, that fear has kept me from fully enjoying life for more years than I care to admit.

And I will confess that even as a person of faith, I spent way too many years being overly cautious, especially in regards to my children. It is only by the grace of God that they aren’t afraid to pursue their dreams and desires, despite my frequent nominations for the Over-Protective Parent of the Year Award. I guess they really took it to heart when their father and I taught them to believe the words of Philippians 4:13: I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Being nearly grown, I’m sure none of my adventurous offspring will ever want to try riding a pig, but it goes without saying that they will undoubtedly want to do other ‘risky’ things on occasion. That may be hard for an old mother hen like me, but I have to realize that I cannot always protect my children, nor should I always try.

Even if their decisions cause them to ‘fall in piggy poo’ once in a while, I still rejoice in their adventurous spirits and their courage. And, I am very thankful that they are willing to take the bull by the horns and go for the gusto. After all, A life making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.” [George Bernard Shaw]

As for me, I don’t know what the future has in store, but watching my children grow into such fearless young adults has been a great inspiration to me. I’ve even decided to dust off a few old dreams and give ‘em a whirl. After all, I too can do all things through Christ who strengths me. And so can you!

“Don’t fear failure so much that you refuse to try new things. The saddest summary of a life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have.” (Louis E. Boone)

cartoon pig

⇒Disclaimer: My apologies for the following advertisement, if applicable. I would like this site to be an advertisement-free site, but I have to pay a fee for this. I plan to do so in the near future, but for now, please know that I have nothing to do with advertisements &/or advertisement selection.

[I hope you enjoyed this repost from 2010.  Be sure to check back soon for lots of new posts.]

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Bedtime was still a few hours away so the girls and I each settled into our own pleasurable activities to wind-down for the night. One of the girls was giggling at an old movie while her sister was on the phone talking faster than anyone could possibly listen.

I too was occupied, completely unaware of the approaching storm. It wasn’t a big storm, just one of those that rolled in quickly, hit furiously, and left suddenly. But there we were, inside a house suddenly blackened by a power outage.

Immediate sounds of scurrying and bumping indicated that someone was slightly frantic. She was searching wildly for her cell phone because she had been disconnected. I suppose it was the urgency of the matter that caused her to forget how helpful the light can be. Her sister was a bit disgruntled at the forced intermission but decided to make the most of it by fixing a sandwich. She could not see into the refrigerator, however and grumbled, “How long till we get the power back?”

Quite amused, I waited a few moments before shedding light on the subject (literally). Because my husband and I are always prepared for a blackout, we always keep two oil lamps, candles and flashlights readily available. If a power outage happens at night, therefore, we are never left unprepared in the dark.

Still, neither of my daughters had thought to take advantage of the light which was practically at their fingertips. I lit one lamp and watched the girls settle into a more peaceful state now that they could see things more clearly.

Gazing at the soft, soothing glow of the lamp, I thought about the ten virgins who took their lamps to meet the bridegroom (Matthew 25:1f). Five wisely prepared their lamps with oil, five did not. Once these five realized they had forgotten the oil, they scrambled in desperation, much like my daughter did for the phone. It was too late. Their lack of preparation cost them dearly.

I thought too, about the unexpected storms of life. There have been times in my life when I was far less prepared than I needed to be when they hit. And like the girls, I was so distracted by immediate circumstances that I didn’t immediately reach for Jesus, the true Light.

One of the things that I dearly love about my husband is his calmness in the face of every storm, both physical and spiritual. Many years ago we faced a very destructive tornadic storm, which caused me great anxiety. I was on the other side of town, when several tornadoes began touching down near my home.

Regardless of the danger, I was determined to return home to my family. Our children were very small at the time and we lived in a mobile home park. Those are not the safest places to live, as evidenced on my way home. Several of the mobile homes from a nearby park had been thrown onto the highway and a few were perched in trees; few were left standing in the park. And to make matters worse, a radio announcement reported that the town located only miles from our home had been mostly leveled.

I assumed my family was in the storm shelter, and I knew deep down that God would protect them, but that didn’t stop worry from gripping my heart. It was not until I pulled into our park entrance that I began to relax; minimal damage was evident, but all was intact.

Rushing through my front door to grab a few things before joining my family, I was stunned to find all of them inside. I sternly asked my husband, “Why aren’t you in the storm shelter?” My husband smiled at me, raised his hands, and his gaze, heavenward and confidently answered, “I am!”

Obviously he knew where The Light was all along and was fully prepared.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path (Psalm 119:105).

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Could anyone ever doubt the artistic brilliance of Michelangelo? Though his architectural and engineering feats were prodigious, the paintings and sculptures of this Italian Renaissance man are yet considered to be amongst the most treasured works in all of art history.

It is rumored that the Pope, while admiring Michelangelo’s sculpture of David, asked “How do you know what to cut away?” To which the sculptor supposedly replied, “It’s simple. I just remove everything that doesn’t look like David.”

Whether this dialogue is true or not is uncertain, but it seems this principle was surely applied by Gutzon Borglum, whose artistic vision equaled Michelangelo’s, or possibly exceeded it. Borglum is the creative mastermind who gave South Dakota its legendary Mt. Rushmore National Memorial.

Four of America’s presidents have been immortalized there. Their granite faces gaze eternally over breathtaking South Dakota. And they are gazed upon. More than three-million tourists visit Mount Rushmore each year to marvel at America’s “Shrine of Democracy.”

The tourists are eager to learn of Gutzon Borglum, Rushmore’s fiercely determined sculptor. If not for his artistic genius and ingenuity, the Memorial may never have become a reality. But is it possible that one man could have single-handedly accomplished such a feat? Hardly.

Borglum may have been the brain of the project, and he may get the lion’s share of the glory, but let’s not forget the whole body of Americans who embraced the dream and worked towards its fulfillment. The first name on the Mount Rushmore roster is Doane Robinson. As secretary and historian of the South Dakota Historical Society, he was eager to draw sightseers to his beautiful state.

While thoughts of tourism were freshly churning in his mind, Robinson read that Gutzon Borglum had been commissioned to carve a tribute to the confederacy into Georgia’s Stone Mountain. He thought of South Dakota’s grand mountains and envisioned “all the heroes of the old west peering out from them.” Fortunately for South Dakota, the Stone Mountain project washed out and Gutzon Borglum was free to sculpt elsewhere.

State forester, Theodore Shoemaker, escorted Borglum into the heart of the Black Hills. He felt that the renowned artist would be captivated by Mount Rushmore. Shoemaker was right on the mark. Once Borglum saw this “garden of the gods,” no other mountain would do. “Here is the place!” he announced. “American history shall march along that skyline!”

The dream took wings. From school children’s pennies to philanthropist contributions, monies and resources slowly trickled in. These invaluable contributions were the fuel that kept Borglum’s dream burning, as were the labors of the men who worked for Borglum: the men who drilled, blasted, and polished the Memorial into its present greatness.

When the plans to sculpt Mount Rushmore were first announced, unemployment was very high. Borglum easily gathered a beginning crew of twenty-two men. Most of them, being loggers, ranchers, and miners, knew nothing at all about carving. Yet they not only mastered the skill of stone carving, they did so while hanging over the side of the mountain in small chair-like “saddles.”

Even though the saddles were sturdy and dependable, the work was dangerous and stressful. Each day started with a taxing 506-step climb to the top of the mountain. The men, who were already exhausted, were then lowered down the side of the mountain to drill and chip the rock away bit by bit.

Borglum originally believed that the Memorial could be carved without dynamite, but he was wrong. Before Rushmore’s completion, 450,000 tons of rock was blasted off the mountain. “We have literally carved with dynamite,” Borglum later confessed.

Most of the men who worked on the mountain earned little pay and gained no recognition. So why did they do it? Initially, the men simply wanted to feed their families. Times were hard, jobs were scarce, and men were desperate. At some point, though, the men caught a glimpse of Borglum’s dream. ‘Red’ Anderson explained, “The longer we were there, the more we began to sense that we were building a truly great thing, and after a while all of us old hands became truly dedicated to it.” Through the years, more than 400 men would share the satisfaction of laboring to create the Memorial.

Gutzon Borglum certainly deserves a place of honor in the annals of artistic achievement. “I want somewhere in America,” he said, “ a few feet of stone that bears witness (to) the great things we accomplished as a nation, placed so high it won’t pay to pull it down for lesser purposes.” The Mount Rushmore National Memorial serves its purpose well.

For me, the past week has been life-changing. Many events, some good, some tragic, have caused me to reflect on my own life. In the end, I want my life to count for something. I don’t want to be famous and admired like the Mount Rushmore memorial, but I want to leave a legacy that encourages people to trust the Lord Jesus Christ. And, I want my life to bear witness of the inexpressibly wondrous things that the Lord has accomplished in me and through me.

I thought about the many people whom God has allowed to impact my life. Like the Rushmore workers, some have helped to gently chisel away some of my pain and imperfections. As Scripture says: As iron sharpens iron, So a man sharpens the countenance of his friend. (Proverbs 27:17).

The Lord has used less gentile people to shape me as well, some were believers and some were not. They, being tools in the Master Sculptor’s hands, were often more like a forceful blast of dynamite because the Lord was using them to reach the places where my heart was harder. Though I could not always see it, the Lord was working all things out for my good (Romans 8:28).

Circumstances, both good and bad, have also helped define me. More often than not, the circumstances have been those which leave me feeling blessed and enriched, but there have been more occasions than I care to remember, when the circumstances of life were also like the explosive charges that carved Mount Rushmore.

It never ceases to amaze me that Borglum was able to assess a mountain and, at the hands of his workers, blast away everything that did not look like a president. One misplaced charge and Washington could have lost his nose, or Roosevelt his ear. But every time the rubble crashed to the ground and the dust smoke cleared, it was evident that the extraordinary masterpiece was one step closer to its completion.

Look closely at the Rushmore Memorial, however, and you will note that it is not quite finished. I think that is a perfect analogy of the human life. We are all works in progress; and we will never be fully perfected in this life.

Even so, let us show forth God’s excellent craftsmanship in our lives by submitting to the Master Sculptor, Jesus. He knows how to skillfully chisel and dynamite all the hardened places in our hearts and lives until we show forth His glory.

Borglum said, “The purpose of the (Rushmore) memorial is to communicate the founding, expansion, preservation, and unification of the United States…” However, we have an even greater calling than Borglum did. Our calling, our legacy to mankind, is to allow the Lord Jesus to communicate the founding, expansion, preservation, and unification of His kingdom through us.

Finally, let us never forget that His is a kingdom of people. I for one am thankful for all the people who God has used, whether chisel or dynamite, to help refine me. When I think of the rubble lying at my feet, which has been chipped and blasted away in order to make my life into something beautiful, I realize that the Lord’s masterpiece is one step closer to completion.

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. (2 Corinthians 5:17).

As such, we are living memorials of our blessed redeemer. Praise God!

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baby xmas

“Honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving.”   ― James E. Faust

When parents don’t lie to their children, their children learn to affect their world in positive ways.

My heart had been heavy for the last few days, but my daughter changed that today while we were having another discussion about the importance of obeying Scripture no matter what. Even young people, who view life through an entirely different perspective than previous generations, realize that mainstream Christianity is in the process of a complete metamorphosis; one that is more comfortable and accommodating to today’s culture.  Some of these changes are not always acceptable to fundamentalists like myself.

Thus, my children, though grown, have always lived a little outside the Christian norm because we raised them to take a firm stand despite these changes. Nevertheless, as a parent, I expect my children to make mistakes, or go through spiritual rough patches, and they have. During those times, I wondered, did their father and I do a good enough job? Heaven knows we tried.

Obviously, we’ve done something right. I would like to share with you a true story that happened just last night.

My twenty-one-year-old daughter was visiting with a friend and her mother. This friend I will call Becky, for the sake of privacy. At some point in the conversation, Becky’s mother lied to her daughter about something, and my daughter knew immediately that it was not true. After Becky left the room, my daughter firmly stated, “You just lied to her!”

Becky’s mother replied that, “It was just a little white lie.” My daughter was very disappointed. “But that’s not right,” she countered.

Smirking  just a bit, the woman told my daughter, “Oh come on now, you know your parents told you little white lies when you were growing up –like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.”

“No they didn’t!” She answered truthfully. “My parents always told us that Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny weren’t real; and there is no such thing as a tooth fairy.”

The woman was truly stunned.

“My parents have never lied to us.” my daughter proudly continued, “And I’m pretty sure they never will!”

Shortly thereafter, Becky returned. Her mother’s smugness was gone, replaced with sincerity, as she turned her attention towards her daughter. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she confessed. “I lied to you while ago.” She followed with the explanation that, “I just wanted you to be safe and I thought that it was best to say what I did, but it wasn’t true.”

That wasn’t the end of the matter. Becky’s mother then sincerely apologized to her for lying to her about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny during her childhood. Not surprisingly, Becky was a bit disinterested in that part because it was so long ago, but that’s not the point. I have no doubt that her mother’s admission and apology will have a positive effect at some point.

Becky later confided in my daughter that she knew her mother was lying about the first matter. “Do you want to know how I know?” she asked. Then, not waiting for a response, she added, “My mom always had that same little expression when she used to lie to me about Santa Clause and stuff.” Yes, she knew.

Children trust their parents when they tell them “little white lies” like Santa Clause, but children grow and learn the truth. At some point they know you are lying to them, but they seldom say so. Nonetheless, a seed of mistrust has been planted.

Dear reader, it is not my purpose to condemn anyone with this post, but rather to offer a little food for thought. When you read your children bedtime stories and fairy tales, they understood that they are entering a world of make-believe. On the other hand, they usually understand Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny and the tooth fairy to be quite real because that is what they are taught from infancy. I have even known parents (even Christian parents) that actually get angry if anyone so much as suggests that children should be told the truth about these fictitious characters. Parents, it seems, enjoy this falsehood every bit as much as the children.

Engaging in these holiday traditions may seem to be nothing more than harmless fun, but in the long run, children will understand that their parents have lied to them from a very early age. And whether they express it or not, there will come a time when they question whether or not their parents were completely honest about other things as well –possibly even God. And yes, this does happen; far more than we care to admit.

I am very proud of my daughter for having the courage to tell Becky’s mother that it isn’t right to lie to her own daughter; and I told her so. Her response was very touching. “I am so glad you and dad never lied to us about Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny,” she said. “If you had, I couldn’t have answered Becky’s mom the way I did, and she would still think that lying is okay. Besides,” she added, “I can trust you and dad to always be honest with me, no matter what.”

That is certainly our intent. My husband and I do not believe in telling lies, not even “little white ones.” A wise man rightly said that those who tell white lies will soon become colorblind. More importantly, Scripture instructs that He that speaketh truth sheweth forth righteousness: but a false witness deceit. (Proverbs 12:17).

Christmas is just around the corner. Trees will be erected, and gifts prettily wrapped. For those who celebrate this holiday (not all Christians do), my question to you is this: will you be truthful with your children, or will you carefully conceal the truth of Santa Clause with the pretty wrappings of tradition? The choice is certainly yours, but please do remember that choices have consequences.

There are dozens of Scriptures that condemn lies and falsehoods, but I will leave those for another time. For now, I leave you with this final thought: Honesty is the foundation of integrity. And it is true that when “The just man walketh in his integrity: his children are blessed after him.” (Pr 20:7).

pencil lady

⇒Disclaimer: My apologies for the following advertisement, if applicable. I would like this site to be an advertisement-free site, but I have to pay a fee for this. I plan to do so in future, but for now, please know that I have nothing to do with advertisements &/or advertisement selection.

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Whatsoever


Fanny Crosby is probably one of the most inspirational women who ever lived. Though blind since infancy, Fanny penned more than nine-thousand of the most beautiful hymns ever written and devoted her entire life to selflessly serving the poor and needy.

What Fanny lacked in physical sight, she was more than compensated with spiritual insight. She once remarked: “It seemed intended by the blessed providence of God that I should be blind all my life, and I thank him for the dispensation. If perfect earthly sight were offered me tomorrow I would not accept it. I might not have sung hymns to the praise of God if I had been distracted by the beautiful and interesting things about me.”

Lord help us all, I pray, be blinded to the enticements of this world that we may see you more clearly. Let us proclaim, as did English clergyman John Newton, “Amazing Grace… (I) was blind but now I see!”
(“Blind Sight” is an archived message from my Polished Pearls blog.)

***

pencil lady

⇒Disclaimer: My apologies for the following advertisement, if applicable. I would like this site to be an advertisement-free site, but I have to pay a fee for this. I plan to do so in future, but for now, please know that I have nothing to do with advertisements &/or advertisement selection.

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steve cross
When my husband came home with a cough the other day, I felt badly for him, but I was anxious to test the claim that pineapple juice is more effective  than cough syrup. You can be my guinea pig, I told him.

Then my brain started whirling. What if someone stumbled upon that phrase a few-hundred years from now, or a thousand, should the Lord tarry? Would they have any idea what that expression meant to our generation? Would they debate its meaning the way folks sometimes do with some of the archaic expressions in the Bible, like turning into a “pillar of salt,” for example?

Some believe that Lot’s wife literally became a giant block of salt. The historian Josephus made the fantastic claim that the salty form of Mrs. Lot still stood in his day, some two-thousand years after her demise, and claims to have personally seen it himself. There are natural salt formations in that region, so it isn’t too far-fetched to believe that Josephus, with a little imagination, might just have fancied one of those to have been Mrs. Lot.

Whereas I can see his enthusiasm for the literal rendering of the biblical account, I would like to think that if I ever saw a pillar of salt, even an oddly shaped one, I would merely accept it as a giant “cow lick,” as we call it in my neck of the woods, or perhaps a “camel lick” in those parts. Do camels even lick salt blocks, I wonder? But I digress.

There is another explanation for Lot’s wife turning into a big salt lick as well. Some bible scholars teach that “turning into a pillar of salt” was an ancient Hebraic idiom, meaning that one had a heart attack or stroke. If this understanding is correct, the Scripture is merely informing us that Mrs. Lot was so frightened at seeing her town destroyed, loved ones and all, that she dropped dead on the spot from a coronary or brain aneurysm. I tend to agree, but I doubt anyone could ever know for certain.

Whatever happened to this frightened woman, it was tragic and I certainly don’t want to make light of it, but I do find it humorous that some people still claim, to this very day, to have seen the salty form of Mrs. Lot also; her frozen glare fixed upon the spot where Sodom once stood. To me, that would be akin to someone reading this post some four-thousand years from now and thinking that my husband really turned into a guinea pig at my suggestion, and that they had recently seen him squeaking his way around town.  That just wouldn’t be true.

Likewise, we sometimes  just have to accept that there are many things in Scripture that are not as clear-cut or easy to understand as we desire them to be. For example, it would be great if someone could clearly explain to me what Ezekiel 13:18 means? I am still a bit stumped by this one:

… Thus saith the Lord GOD; Woe to the women that sew pillows to all armholes, and make kerchiefs upon the head of every stature to hunt souls! Will ye hunt the souls of my people, and will ye save the souls alive that come unto you?

Someday I will dig into that verse, but for now I’ll just refrain from sewing pillows onto armholes and making kerchiefs upon the head of every stature to hunt souls, which shouldn’t be too difficult since I don’t even have a clue what that means.

And with that, my guinea pig and salt licks rambling comes to a point. Dear reader, it is quite easy to misunderstand some of the Scriptures, which are written and can be studied. It is a great deal easier to misunderstand people, because we are much more complex. Even Jesus was misunderstood quite often. However, we should never –we must never– allow misunderstandings to damage otherwise healthy relationships.

Margaret Elizabeth Sangster once wrote, “In the whole round of human affairs little is so fatal to peace as misunderstanding.” I wholeheartedly agree with that. Misunderstandings have all too often caused otherwise peaceable folks to stand in frozen defiance of each other like bitter, unmovable pillars of salt; their eyes unable to see anything other than what they desire to see; unable to move forward.

Seeking truth is important and fighting for truth  sometimes necessary, but fighting each other is never the best recourse. Let us, therefore, remember to be charitable in our misunderstandings and disagreements, knowing full well that:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.…  (1 Corinthians 13:4-6).

 

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zuccini

When it comes to our thoughts, the age-old saying, “Garbage in, garbage out,” is certainly spot-on. As any gardener knows, however, the opposite is true of composting. It never ceases to amaze me how piles of organic waste, such as kitchen scraps or fallen leaves, can in due time, transform into the kind of rich, fertile fertilizer that causes plants to thrive.

My husband and I have a portable composter¹ that we move about our vegetable garden ever so often. Then, using a pitchfork, we redeposit the material, upside-down, to expedite the composting process. Since there is no bottom on the unit, some of the rich, organic material stays behind. Thus, we effortlessly condition different areas of soil while we wait for our veggie “food” to cook in the composter. This process is very simple, yet effective.

There are additional benefits to composting this way as well. Several weeks ago, we noticed that five new cucmber plants had begun to grow where the composter had last been. Since all of our produce scraps go into the composter, there were  some discarded seeds mixed into the pile. Apparently, the conditions were just right for some of those seeds to germinate. And I must admit, we were quite thankful for this little surprise, given that we were at the point in the season where the other plants had stopped producing; and we hadn’t gotten around to any later plantings to extend the harvest.

Admiring the healthy, vibrant young plants, I couldn’t help but think of the biblical parable of the sower, from the thirteenth chapter of Matthew. In a nutshell, the parable tells of a man who sowed seeds, some of which fell among thorns and stones and the like. These seeds did not grow to fruition. The seeds that fell upon good soil, however, did. Jesus explained to his disciples that the seed represented the Gospel; and the thorns, stones and fertile ground all represented the hearts of men. Some would receive the Gospel and grow in faith, others would not.

Today, as I watered those growing zucchini plants, another Scripture passage came to mind. The Apostle Paul was admonishing certain members of the church to continue in unity  in Christ, rather than aligning themselves with any particular leader. He likens his ministry, and that of Apollos, to jointly sowing and watering the seeds of the Gospel. “What, after all, is Apollos?” he asks, “And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. (I Co 3:5-7 NIV).

May this passage serve to remind us that all of the Gospel seeds we plant are in God’s hands. He is the master gardener! It is He that makes things grows.

Dear reader, perhaps you have sown seeds that have never come to fruition, so far as you know. Don’t lose hope, even though it may seem your precious kingdom seeds were somehow destroyed, as in the parable of the sower. You just never know where a seed may grow!

Above all, never pre-judge anyone. Sadly, there are certain people groups that have, for one reason or other, been deemed a complete waste when it comes to sowing Gospel seeds –those who passionately adhere to another, ungodly religion, for example. Friends, I trust you have never bought into that lie. Human nature easily assumes that any seeds of truth offered to the proverbial “unreachable” would be hotly discarded. But that judgment is not ours to make. We sow, we water; but it is God that makes things grow!

He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill; That he may set him with princes, even with the princes of his people. (Psalms 113:7-8a).

¹ Simple, portable composter:  Cut the bottom off of a trash can, then drill holes in all sides.  To keep birds and small animals out, top the can with either a lid made of cage wire, or the original can lid with larger holes drilled into it.?????????? This allows moisture  into the can and expedites the composting process.  For best result, make two or more composters so that you can compost in stages.

⇒Disclaimer: My apologies for the following advertisement, if applicable. I would like this site to be an advertisement-free site, but I have to pay a fee for this. I plan to do so in future, but for now, please know that I have nothing to do with advertisements &/or advertisement selection.

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shipwreck survivor

3 John 1:2  Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.

Blogging was already on my to-do list for this afternoon. However, as the day progressed quite differently than planned, so did today’s message. Pardon the personal nature of this post, but I feel prompted to share with you a few thoughts on sludge.

This morning, I awoke to a slightly sore throat and the distinct feeling of illness trying to take hold. In my home, we always try to kick everything naturally before we even consider a trip to the doctor’s office, so I downed some garlic capsules and started a vitamin C flush¹.

I don’t want to get too graphic here, but a  Vitamin C flush rapidly pulls toxins out of your body, so it is supposed to be done until you spend a sufficient amount of time in the bathroom to expel them. Let me just say, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that my gall bladder was clogged because I passed a ton of gall sludge. That being the case, I plan to do a gall bladder flush later this evening as well.

As a result of the C flush, my sore throat is already gone and I feel quite a bit better overall, but the gall bladder flush will help me feel better still, and far more energetic; I know this from experience. I am thankful for today’s symptoms, though, because they served to highlight the fact that my body was out-of-order and needed some immediate attention.

What does this have to do with God? You may ask. It is He that gives our bodies the various red-flags that call us to action. The same is true of our spiritual lives as well. Often times, our spiritual lives become so sludged with the everyday stuff of life that we cannot hear the voice of God as clearly as we used to. If left unchecked, this can create more serious problems, spiritual apathy, for example.

Obviously, spiritual sludge doesn’t manifest with a sore throat, but there are some noticeable symptoms when it is present. These may include such things as a decreased desire to pray and study, a lessening compassion towards others, a critical spirit or a bad attitude, etc.

These are all red flags, calling us to action. If you are feeling spiritually lethargic, dear reader; if you have that undeniable feeling that something is out-of-order, may I encourage you to immediately seek the Lord. Ask Him to show you what, if anything, needs to be flushed from your life –especially anything that is toxic, such as bitterness, strife or envy, etc.

Toxins can be ingested from external sources as well, such as inappropriate television programs and the like. Even so, it may be that you aren’t ingesting any of those, yet feel that your spiritual life isn’t quite healthy regardless. Like the physical body, our spiritual life is often ailing, not because we are allowing harmful things in, but rather because we are simply neglecting to put enough of the right ‘nutrients’ in. Our bodies need proper nutrition and so do our spirits.

Like a vitamin C flush, which blitzes the body with enough Ascorbic Acid (Vitamin C) and minerals to flush toxins, and replenish these essentials; ingesting large amounts of Scripture blitzes our spirit with everything it needs to stay healthy and strong, while consistent prayer inhibits unhealthy sludge from clogging up our lives in the first place. But we don’t study and pray for medicinal purposes, we do so because we are in a covenant relationship with the Creator of the Universe and because we love Him. As C.S Lewis once said, “Every Christian would agree that a man’s spiritual health is exactly proportional to his love for God.”

Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God. (2 Cor 7:1).

¹  I use Professional Health Products Pro C Ascorbate for this flush.  Instructions for doing a Vitamin C flush may be read by clicking this link:  Vitamin C Flush

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