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Archive for the ‘Peace’ Category

flood

Where have I been for the last few months, you might ask? Truthfully, I have been battling a rather serious health issue; one that has knocked me down more than once, but rest assured, I’m not down for the count. In fact, I plan to resume blogging now, despite my weakened condition. But first, I want to share a post from my archives because it seemed very appropriate amid the physical and emotional storms that so many are facing. I will share this post both here, and on my Polished Pearls page, but check back soon because no matter what, God’s mercies are too great to keep silent and I will, Lord willing, be adding new posts to both sites very soon.

Today, as I gazed upon the brightest, most beautiful sky that I have seen in weeks, I couldn’t help but think of those living in flood-ravaged areas; and right now, there are plenty of those. I also wept for a few dear friends who are going through some very devastating storms in their personal lives. It seems that so many of us are going through heavy storms of one type or another. Don’t give up, friends, even when those storms seem to come against you………..

LIKE A FLOOD

Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes He lets the storm rage and calms His child.

This past weekend, the weather here was horrendous. We were hit with the whole gamut of storm threats, including tornadoes, hail and flooding. In fact the hail stone pictured –or should I say hail boulder- was one of many that pounded this region. There was quite a bit of property loss in our area, but praise the LORD, there were no serious injuries.

hail

I thought of the second half of Isaiah 59:19: When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him. However, the ancient Hebrew texts did not have commas, or paragraphs for that matter, so instead of reading:

When the enemy shall come in like a flood —the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him

the verse could just as easily read

When the enemy shall come in —like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him.

What’s the difference? The difference is where you place the emphasis. Dear reader, when you are bombarded with the storms of life, do you focus more on the storm, or on the one who can calm it?

It is only natural to feel completely overwhelmed at times. Undoubtedly, many of the folks here that lost their homes in the tornadoes felt that way. I’m sure they could relate to the words of King David  when he penned the following:

My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death have fallen on me.
Fear and trembling have beset me;
horror has overwhelmed me.
I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest.
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
far from the tempest and storm.
Psalm 55:4-8 NIV

But David didn’t stop there, allowing his situation to flood him with despair. Instead, he confidently proclaimed, “As for me, I will call upon God; and the LORD shall save me” (verse 16).

Dear reader, I leave you with these encouraging words from the same Psalm; may they flood you with peace during your roughest storms.

“Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved (verse 22).

(Like a Flood originally posted April 2012)

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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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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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Eagle takes flight over Grand Canyon USA

This week, my region’s wonderful sweatshirt- and-boots weather has been held at bay by a resurgence of warmer temperatures. Nothing new here; our local weather is somewhat bipolar. Only a few summers ago, my children were swimming one day, and the very next they needed to wear their coats. If there is one place in the world where glimpses of all four seasons can be experienced in the course of a single day, it is definitely here, smack in the middle of the good ole U.S.A.

Now that I’m slipping into my autumn years, I sometimes feel the same way emotionally. Those pesky hormonal changes have a way of diving-in and swinging the emotions of this menopausal woman like a pendulum, from happy tears over the least little thing, to unexplainable sadness over nothing, all in one fell swoop.

Speaking of “one fell swoop,” Whether Shakespeare first penned the phrase or merely borrowed it for his Tragedy, Macbeth is uncertain; but he certainly popularized it. The imagery of “one fell swoop” is that of the fierce, dreadful descent of the swoop (an English hunting bird) upon its prey.

If the Bible were to use the phrase, I Peter 5:8 would be a perfect Scripture for its insertion: Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour [in one fell swoop]. Thankfully, those who put their trust in Christ have been given an arsenal of spiritual weapons to fight, and to overcome, the devil’s all-out attacks.

If only the victory were always as simple as the Apostle James’ admonition to “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you!” Maybe I am only speaking for myself, but sometimes the enemy’s attacks are so strong and unrelenting that I simply wear out, to the point that my faith starts swinging on that same emotional pendulum as my “bipolar” menopausal emotions.

It is then I remind myself of the 91st Psalm:

1 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
3 Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling,
10 no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 “Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.

Dear reader, it does not matter what challenges we are facing; nor does it matter how difficult the fight. Our King is Adonai Tzevaot – the LORD of hosts! In one fell swoop, He will rescue those who call upon His name!

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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pencils

Someone must have torn a few pages out of my calendar, or so it seems, because spring just wrapped-up a few weeks ago and now summer is almost over. Consequently, I’ve been reevaluating all the ‘stuff’ that fills my days. What needs to stay, I’ve asked myself, and what needs to go; what needs to improve?

Writing has been on my mind a lot lately. I      haven’t done much of that all summer and truthfully, I’ve wondered why. After four years of devotional blogging, I figured I just needed a break, but that still, small voice inside my heart kept urging me to keep writing –to share the awesome love of God in a world gone crazy.

My intentions were good, but my discipline was lacking. Time kept flying with breakneck speed, and the pages stayed blank. Then it happened; the desire to write began to burn inside me again. Everywhere I turned there was another sign, another reminder, that writing was part of the ‘stuff’ that I am supposed to fill my days with.

Where do I start? I inquired of the LORD. “What do you want me to write about first?  His answer: to remind you, dear reader, that “Blessed are….” Jesus begins his ‘sermon on the mount’ by encouraging and instructing his listeners:

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. (Matthew 5:3-12).

Amen! I cannot think of a better message for today. May you, dear reader, be blessed, and may you ever be a blessing.

See you next week.

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cotton

Cotton isn’t harvested in a nice shady lawn, but anything can happen at my home; and ‘anything’ usually does. Today’s little mishap involved one of those mattress toppers filled with a few inches of soft, fluffy cotton. I thought washing it in a gentle cycle of cold water, then drying it on the outside clothes line, would not only clean and sanitize it, but re-fluff it as well. Despite my good intentions, however, the underside of the topper ripped, spilling some of its contents. I knew something had gone awry as soon as I spied a handful of cotton in the washing machine, but I carried it outside regardless and gave it a shake. Let’s just say that the rip was bigger than I thought, and picking cotton fluff was my next task.

Though I was tempted to let the next big gust of wind carry the cotton away, I knew gathering it was the wisest thing to do. Dogs will eat anything, and I didn’t want my little Maltese thinking some yummy manna had fallen from heaven for her dining pleasure. Had she noshed on the cotton, her little tummy would have been stuffed with fluff, and the results could have been life-threatening. So there I was, already in a hurry, with one more cotton-picking thing to do.

It was then that I realized how truly grumbly I sometimes am. The weather was hot, but I  certainly wasn’t stooped low in sweltering southern fields, plucking cotton from plants that can slash and cut. No, I was outside gathering up handfuls of soft, fluffy cotton from the grass, and I was in the shade to boot. Even so, I didn’t like picking that cotton one little bit.

The Spirit of the LORD spoke to me during those moments. He reminded me of the blood, sweat and tears that soaked the fields of the cotton plantations during the evil days of slavery. From the very old to the very young, from sun-up to sun-down, gentle souls toiled, with a burden too great to bear, in slavery too inhuman. They had no choice.

Migrant workers have also toiled endlessly in those punishing cotton fields. They may have earned some money, but never enough. In some ways, these migrant workers must have felt just as enslaved.

No doubt, the drudgery of those hot cotton fields birthed many a dream of freedom for most of the folks who toiled there. But they birthed something else as well; praise and thanksgiving. Countless numbers of Negro Spirituals –songs of praise– were birthed right there in those fields, under the harshest of conditions, many of which are still sung today. And thanksgiving; the toil was long, hard and excruciatingly hot, but those migrant workers were very thankful to even  have work, something that too many of us take for granted.

In those few moments, I asked myself, was I thankful enough? Was I thankful that I had a nice shady yard to work in? Was I thankful to have a sweet little dog to care for and protect? Was I thankful for the nice house behind me; a house in which to escape the heat? And so on.

Those few short moments of frustration aside, my answer was yes. I had spent quite a bit of time earlier that day, and the one prior, thanking the LORD for all of the blessings He had bestowed upon me and my family. In fact, I have been replaying the hymn, Count Your Blessings¹, in my thoughts for quite some time now. Can you, dear reader, say the same? When was the last time you took the time to genuinely count yours?

Perhaps you often offer thanksgiving to the LORD for His many blessings, yet still feel enslaved by a heavy burden. I encourage you to remember afresh the following words, penned from this same hymn:

When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done…..

So, amid the conflict whether great or small,
Do not be disheartened, God is over all;
Count your many blessings, angels will attend,
Help and comfort give you to your journey’s end.

¹Count Your Blessings. Johnson Oatman, Jr. Chicago, Illinois: 1897.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also enjoy this archived post: Danged Ole Yankees

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The weather is not scorching at present, but this is a repost from a few years ago; so just think cold instead. I truly felt like someone really needed to hear this one today, so here you go! God bless!

“Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.” Well here in this little corner of the Midwest we have to, as far as the terrain is concerned anyway; It’s the closest thing to elevation that we have. Well almost…

My husband and I feel confident that we are living in the place which God has chosen for us, and are fairly settled. But if we had our druthers, we would be living on some mountain ridge. Or at the very least, on a small country farm somewhere in God’s country. By the way, if you don’t know what druthers are, you need to get out of the city for awhile and experience a little country life.

I often awake from pleasant dreams in which my family and I are living in such a place. Then the reality hits me; Nope, we’re still here in these allergy-inducing, scorched flatlands. Most of the time we are content enough to live here. Still, there have been several times throughout the years that we have all but begged God to let us relocate to an area more suited to our nature-loving genes and our manure-wading boots. And every single time, God said No.

Last night I couldn’t help but think about all the incredible things that God is doing in our lives right now -here in this place. I couldn’t even begin to list them all. Then it dawned on me, how many of these blessings would we have missed out on if we had gotten our way and moved? We may have thought at times that we would find more happiness elsewhere, but fortunately for us, God knows what we need and where He needs us, even more than we do and He always makes provision for that.

This realization led me to ponder some of the other times when God answered our prayers for other things with the same unyielding, “No.” I might not always have liked the answer, nor understood it, but I am now fully persuaded that His answers were always in our best interest whether we realized it or not.

Then, God clearly spoke to my heart. He said, “If you think I told you No a lot, you should see how many times I told the devil No. There were so many times he tried to trick you and deceive you, but I said NO! He tried to bring certain sicknesses and diseases upon you but I said NO! He even tried to take your lives but I said NO!”

My mind began to whir with memories of the car accidents we were in and the ones we narrowly escaped. I thought about several other times when I, personally, should have died but walked away unscathed. God has kept us safe through all of this and so much more. He healed us from that which the doctors couldn’t. And when we teetered on the brink of financial ruin, He miraculously provided. I cannot begin to imagine how many times God protected us and provided for us when we didn’t even know the need existed.

The devil has tried endlessly to bring harm to my family and I, but God repeatedly said NO! I don’t know about you, but right about now I feel like shouting for joy. Go ahead, ask me if I ever tire of talking about God and His amazing love. I will most emphatically tell you NO!

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alone prayer

“What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be.”
 Ellen Burstyn

Normally, if someone told me to go away, I would be hurt and offended. But Jesus isn’t just anybody; when He tells me to “go away,” I am more than happy to do so. Then again, He never asks me to go away from His presence; quite the opposite in fact. He longs for us to get away from the cares of this world in order that we might spend time in His glorious presence.

Mother Teresa summarized this well when she stated: “We too are called to withdraw at certain intervals into deeper silence and aloneness with God, together as a community as well as personally; to be alone with Him — not with our books, thoughts, and memories but completely stripped of everything — to dwell lovingly in His presence, silent, empty, expectant, and motionless. We cannot find God in noise or agitation.” ¹

Although Jesus never had difficulty in finding God, the Father, even He felt the urgency of going away from the crowds and from the daily demands of life. We read many accounts in Scripture of Jesus doing just that.

For example, the apostle Mark recounts that Jesus, after what must have been a very demanding and exhausting time of ministry in Capernaum, “went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.” Mark 1:35

Mark also records another time that Jesus, after teaching for a long time, fed the multitudes, then:

… made His disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side to Bethsaida, while He Himself was sending the crowd away. After bidding them farewell, He left for the mountain to pray. (Mark 6:45-46).

Luke records that Jesus “withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed.” And that at another time He “he went out into a mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God.” 5:16, 6:12).

No doubt Jesus went to the wilderness or the mountain in order to secure His privacy, but it is possible that He also felt God’s presence more keenly in the beauty and solitude of nature. I know I do! The most intense encounters I have had with my LORD have been while I was alone in the mountains; alone here meaning without the company of another person, but engulfed in  God’s very real, nearly tangible, presence.

Wouldn’t it be nice, dear reader, if we could all just take some time to go away, for an extended period of time, to the mountains, or seashore to spend time with the LORD, and He only?

But let’s be practical; very few of us have the opportunity to do so. Nevertheless, it is crucial that we make time in whatever way possible, as Mother Teresa said, “to dwell lovingly in His presence, silent, empty, expectant, and motionless.”

It is equally as important to occasionally take a temporary furlough from certain activities, be they television, sports, blogging, or whatever particular that steals away your days and whittles away your hours. Actually, this is why you haven’t seen a new blog on this site for a while. I was being obedient to God’s instruction to “go away” for awhile and recharge my batteries, spiritually speaking. Now that I feel more energized, I plan to do more writing again, LORD willing.

In closing, I wish to reiterate that God longs for us to go away from the cares of this world in order that we might spend time in His glorious presence. And if we can do so in the beautiful and majestic cathedral of nature, that’s all the better.

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. ~John Muir

¹ Mother Teresa, In the Heart of the World: Thoughts, Stories and Prayers

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volcano

Granted, my life is dancing around the edges of its autumn season, but I haven’t quite reached the flash point yet –hot flashes, that is. Although, just the other night, I did get a taste of how awful that must be.

Surely, you have also experienced this kind of night at some point; a night spent riding the fever-and-chill rollercoaster. If so, you can sympathize with my frustration. Sleep was sporadic. About the time the mercury in my thermometer was about to pop, I would throw my blankets off, in agony. I was so hot, in fact, that my only relief was the overhead fan, which whirred quietly overhead despite the wintery chill of evening. But then, as quickly as my overly-fatigued body gave way to sleep, it awoke abruptly, shaking at the sudden coldness. And so it went, hour after hour, long into the early morning hours.

At one point, I lay there, clothes damp with sweat, thinking that the hot flashing part was surely similar to what my menopausal friends experienced all the time. I thought about the cartoon I had seen earlier that week. It featured three snow women, the first was sharing with her friend that, “Mildred,” who had melted into a puddle, had “just had a hot flash.” After which, I grumbled to my sleeping husband that I am NOT ready to start hot flashing. He didn’t hear me, of course, but I just thought he should know that I have firmly decided to skip the whole hot flashing thing altogether!

About that time, my thoughts took an entirely different turn; they somehow jumped to the third chapter of Revelation, where the Lord speaks, through John, to the church in Laodicea: I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth (verses 15, 16).

I Guess I’m safe then, I lightheartedly reminded the Lord, because I am definitely hot –then cold –then hot –then cold ……….

Feverish humor aside, spiritual comfort is the very thing that the Lord warned His church to avoid. But I always wondered why He would prefer cold to lukewarm. I think Matthew Henry sums it up pretty well in his Whole Bible Commentary:

Lukewarmness or indifference in religion is the worst temper in the world. If religion is a real thing, it is the most excellent thing, and therefore we should be in good earnest in it; if it is not a real thing, it is the vilest imposture, and we should be earnest against it. If religion is worth any thing, it is worth every thing; an indifference here is inexcusable: Why halt you between two opinions? If God be God, follow him; if Baal (be God), follow him. Here is no room for neutrality. An open enemy shall have a fairer quarter than a perfidious neuter; and there is more hope of a heathen than of such. Christ expects that men should declare themselves in earnest either for him or against him.

Frankly, I would love to tell you that I am never lukewarm in my faith, but that just wouldn’t be honest. I don’t ever consider my faith to be ‘cold,’ but there are certainly times in my life when I feel as though my spiritual fervency comes in waves like menopausal hot flashes; and it is during those weak moments that I have to remind myself that I am NOT willing to tolerate hot flashing.

I’m sure that there are others who have felt the same way on occasion. In fact, one of King David’s prayers was, Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me (Psalm 51:10). David, who was a “man after God’s own heart,” was not ashamed to acknowledge his weaknesses and ask the Lord to rekindle his flame.

Dear reader, I pray that we are quick to do the same, so that our flame continues to burn brightly enough and consistently enough, that we are able to help those who walk in darkness to find their way!

God’s Flame

The candle’s flame extinguishes
in a pool of molten wax.
Likewise does my spirit dim
when time with God is lax.

Too often, while life is tugging,
God’s time is pushed aside,
till trials deal such crushing blows
that my faith is severely tried.

I can barely face another day
in difficult times like these,
until my strength is again restored
by time spent on my knees.

It is then my Father reaches out
with gentle outstretched hand.
“Though you’ve waned,” he says,
“I’ll give you strength to stand.

All you have to do my child
is praise Me with all your might.
Then I will reignite your flame
and thus restore your light.

Then I will take that light
and place it high upon a stand
so that hurting folks can see it
throughout this darkened land.

And they will know that it is I
who makes the darkness flee
from all who yield their heavy hearts
and put their trust in me.”

                                                                         God’s Flame © Susan Shimkovitz

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