Feeds:
Posts
Comments

This beautiful spring weather means that love will soon be in the air. I am reminded of the times at Bible College, when the young girls would anxiously flirt with their soon-to-be boyfriends, hoping all the while to attain their “MRS degrees” — which simply meant they were looking to add the letters Mrs. to the front of their names.

I, on the other hand, was quite content to spend my time cooped-up in my dorm room in “Geritol Hall,” studying and dreaming of my future ministry to the deaf. And yes, the students really did call my floor “Geritol Hall.” Those of us assigned to that floor were not over-the-hill by any stretch of the imagination, but we were the “old maids” who had more important things to do than search for a husband.

Funny, that’s often the time that the LORD brings one around. Like many happily married couples, my beloved and I weren’t the least bit interested in a relationship when ours first developed. We were both quite a bit older than the typical Bible college student, and not as easily distracted with thoughts of love and marriage –our focus was on God, and the pursuit of His call on our lives. Yes, ours was a “safe” friendship because neither of us wanted anything more.

We did not meet by chance; it was divine providence. I’ll leave that story for another time, but suffice it to say that my ineptitude for music appreciation class, coupled with the LORD’s (very temporary) sabotage of my car, placed my beloved and me on the same church bus at the same time. And there you have it, the start of a beautiful, purely platonic, friendship.

Eventually, I began to desire marriage again –something that I had completely suppressed after the bitter sting of hurt and betrayal. But who would I marry? At that time, my beloved had become my very best friend and confidante. Between classes and study sessions, we were nearly always together. And, we met daily for personal Bible study and prayer; yet it never even occurred to me that the love of my life –my soul mate- was right in front of my eyes.

Then something strange happened. One morning, while praying atop a mountain peak, the LORD spoke very clearly to my heart, and said it was time for me to marry. Later that evening, at the conclusion of a worship service, there was an invitation for those seeking a spouse to come to the altar for prayer. I quickly dove over the bodies already kneeling at the altar and said, “Here am I LORD –send him!”

I told the other ladies in “Geritol Hall” that I was getting married. Of course, they laughed and needled me when I confessed I didn’t have a clue as to who my soon-to-be spouse was. Apparently, you’re supposed to have a fiancé in order to receive an MRS degree. Call me crazy, but aren’t Bible College students supposed to have faith? I did.

Granted, I’m not always the brightest bulb on the block, so I remained clueless for awhile longer about the identity of Mr. Right. In fact, while eating lunch with him, I would occasionally look over his head and ask, “Where is he LORD?”

I thought the headaches I was having at the time were due to too many tedious hours of reading, but looking back, I suppose it is possible that the LORD had been –as my beloved often said- “beating me severely about the head and shoulders” until I figured out the obvious.

I’m not even sure when it happened, but one day the bulb turned on, a little brighter, and I realized that I was very much in love with my very best friend. And he realized that he was in love with me too. There would be one less old maid in “Geritol Hall” by the time the fall session started. Praise the LORD!

Words cannot even express how thankful I am for my wonderful husband. I know with utmost certainty that the LORD hand-picked him for me, and I for him; no two people are more perfectly suited for each other than we are. My beloved and I have been blissfully married for almost 22 years now, and we are still best friends. However, I’m not saying this to be boastful.

I simply want to remind you, dear reader, that God’s blessings are always before us, whether we see them or not. After all, blessings come in many different packages. At the end of an “uneventful” day, you might be tempted to think that nothing special happened. In reality, however, God may have prevented you from being in a fatal car accident, kept your child from harm, zapped that tumor you didn’t even know you had, and blessed you in a hundred other invisible ways.

Knowing this, we need never look around and ask, “Where are you, LORD?” We need only praise Him and say:

Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation (Psalm 68:19).

I still had this idea that there was a whole world of marvelous golden people somewhere… Sort of heroic super-people, all of them beautiful and witty and calm and kind, and I always imagined that when I did find them I’d suddenly know that I Belonged among them, that I was one of them, that I’d been meant to be one of them all along, and everything in the meantime had been a mistake; and they’d know it too. I’d be like the ugly duckling among the swans.”
― Richard Yates, Revolutionary Road

As a child, all I wanted was to be loved by my parents and accepted by my peers. I tried in so many ways to make that happen, but my parents had their own issues and my classmates were just downright mean. If only I hadn’t been so desperate for acceptance at school, I might not have fallen so easily into the other kid’s traps.

Some of their taunts were less demeaning than others. The pencil incident might have fallen into this category, except that my foolish error earned me the nickname “Stubby” for most of fourth grade. As I said, kids can be mean.

Normally, I was suspicious when other kids showed an interest in me, but on that particular day, I totally dropped my guard when one of the really popular girls walked up to me and began chatting as though we were long-time buddies. I thought perhaps there were a few “golden people” after all. During the course of the conversation she asked me if I preferred long pencils or stubby ones. “Long,” I answered truthfully, “and very sharp.”

“Me too, she replied. “It looks like we have something in common after all.”

I stood there dumbfounded as she walked away, but I was happy.

Then the unthinkable happened; a second “golden girl” came up and began chatting with me also. I should’ve suspected something was amiss, but I was too busy basking in the moment. This girl also brought up the topic of pencils, but unlike the first, she volunteered that she loved writing with stubby pencils before asking me my preference.

It was very wrong of me, I know, but I wanted to have something in common with her too, so I assured her that I liked stubby pencils as well. “That’s what I thought,” she smugly barked, then walked away. My heart sank as the two girls started their confab, while shooting arrogant glances in my direction.  Naturally, they shared my indiscretion with all the other kids. They all sang their stinging words, “Liar, liar, pants on fire” and “Hey Stubby, got a pencil?”  until I was practically in tears and longed desperately to return to my invisible status.

Little did I know, but I was never invisible to the only one that mattered. Not only did He love me unconditionally, and accept me just as I was –lonely and broken- He loved me enough to lead me to a golden place when the time was right.

O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you.
~~Psalm 139:1-18 NIV

To this day, I still don’t like stubby pencils. But I don’t keep a beautiful glass jar, full of long, sharp pencils, on my desktop because I have something to prove. They are there to remind me of the power of words. I guess that is one reason I still love the feeling of a pencil between my fingers. Every now and then, I pick-up one of my long, sharp pencils and think to myself, God loves me just as I am, and He has written me in His book.  And that, dear reader,  often inspires me to write words of encouragement to you.

I know that my words, in the midst of the psalmist’s are, as Mr. Yates penned, the ugly duckling among the swans.” Even so, I hope you were encouraged by them in some way.

Postscript: The opening quote from Revolutionary Road does not reflect an endorsement for Mr. Yates, nor his book.  Truthfully, I have never read the book and cannot, therefore, speak to its contents.  I merely stumbled upon the aforementioned quote and felt that it accurately described how I felt as a child, dreaming of far away places where people were kind and underdogs like myself would be accepted.  Mr. Yates’ book, as I understand, is a secular work with questionable themes.  So again, I am not endorsing His book by sharing this beautiful quote.

A week or so before my wedding, my mother called to tell me she was planning on missing the big event because she and her husband wanted to watch a local mud truck pull. Granted, my mother has never been a typical loving parent, but a mud truck pull –seriously?

Still, I wasn’t really all that upset. I had grown quite accustomed to her disregard for my life –which was always her choice not mine. My youngest sister, on the other hand, was upset. She had always longed to see our family become “normal” even though we all knew deep down that would never happen. Somehow, she convinced my mother that weddings trumped mud pulls; and missing my wedding might be something she would eventually regret.

At the last minute, my mother made the decision to pop into the church just long enough to view the ceremony and swap a few hellos. She did leave as quickly as possible to pick-up her husband and head to the mud, but I’m glad she came anyway. There is just something special about having your mother at your wedding, even if you aren’t close.

Now, after twenty-plus years, I still feel occasional bouts of sadness at never having experienced a real relationship with my mother. I had wanted that all my life. And though she would disagree, I tried over and over to draw her heart to mine. It just never happened.

This makes me think of the parable in the 22nd chapter of Matthew:

Jesus answered and spoke again in parables to them, saying, The Kingdom of Heaven is like a certain king, who made a marriage feast for his son, and sent out his servants to call those who were invited to the marriage feast, but they would not come. Again he sent out other servants, saying, ‘Tell those who are invited, “Behold, I have made ready my dinner. My oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready. Come to the marriage feast!”‘ But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise [another to his mud pull]…..

The king’s Son is an obvious reference to our Lord Jesus Christ. He longs to have relationship with all of humanity and draw their hearts to His, as His bride, but so many people disregard the invitation because they are more interested in doing their own thing. Others think that just popping into church once in a while will suffice, even though they are not really in relationship with the LORD. However, making an appearance in the natural, is not enough! Salvation is an issue of the heart. The parable explains that those who rejected the invitation to the *marriage feast  will be utterly rejected themselves. However, it further elaborates that those who wish to attend must be wearing a proper wedding garment.

And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wedding garment: And he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless. Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness, there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth (vss. 11-15).

What is the wedding garment? The garment is the salvation found in Jesus Christ by acceptance of His atoning death on the cross for your sin, and subsequent obedience to His Word. Only the true bride of Christ wears this garment. They alone will be able to attend the marriage supper.

I’m not trying to sling any mud here, but there are lots of folks out there who will never attend the marriage supper because they are more interested in pursuing their own pleasures and activities. I truly hope, dear reader, you are not among them. Time is short, but it’s not too late. Why risk a last-minute decision? If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your LORD and Savior, there will never be a better time to do so than now. And there is no greater source of joy than knowing with certainty that you will be ready for that glorious day when we will be united with our bridegroom, Jesus.

*Let us be glad and rejoice and give Him glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and His wife has made herself ready.” And to her it was granted to be arrayed in fine linen, clean and bright, for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints. Then he said to me, “Write: ‘Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!’” And he said to me, “These are the true sayings of God….” Worship God! (Revelation 19:7-10)

It was one of those sticky summer days when the fish were not biting, but the snapping turtles were. I wanted to call it quits, but my stepfather fitly reminded me that we needed to catch a mess-o’-bluegill if we wanted to eat supper for the next few nights. So, I propped up my pole and disappointedly scanned the river for a hopeful sign of fish activity.

It wasn’t long before a big fat water moccasin decided to come calling. And if you know me, I not only hate snakes, I’ve been known to give one or two of those repulsive critters a heart attack with my piercing scream. Fortunately for me, my stepfather never went fishing without his holster strapped to his thigh. He whipped out his pistol and sank that nasty snake to its watery grave faster than you could say Wyatt Earp.

It wasn’t even five minutes later when Mr. Snake decided to investigate what happened to the Mrs. Lickety-split, he and the Mrs. were both resting in pieces. Two dead snakes, two night crawler-loving snapping turtles cut off our lines, and no fish –I was really ready to go home then. Still, my stepfather insisted we stay, until…..

Two more snakes shot dead, then another, then three more. Honestly, for every snake shot, two more took their places. I never knew that water snakes were attracted to blood, but apparently they are – at least the blood of their kin. We were pretty much forced to leave at that point.

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but there have been several times in my life when I was minding my own business, when suddenly I was surrounded by “snakes” – folks who tormented, mocked and attacked me for no apparent reason. I guess it just makes some people angry when you are fishing for the truth in God’s Holy Word, and seek to live by that; especially if that truth stirs the waters of popular tradition.

If there is one thing I’ve learned, however, it doesn’t pay to “shoot the snakes” because there will always be more to take their place. Scripture instructs us to bless them and pray for them instead (Luke 6:28). However, that doesn’t mean we should just stick around and accept their poisonous bites either; it is often best to just walk away (or run, as the case may be).

The first Psalm states: Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. As long as we keep fishing for truth, and walking in it, God will take care of those snakes.

Psalm 1 continues: 2But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. 3And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. 4The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away. 5Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. 6For the LORD knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.

These days, I don’t get the chance to fish very much – at least not for bluegill. But Jesus said, “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” So, I’m going to keep on fishing! True, I might catch a few snapping turtles on my line, or run into a mess of snakes, but the LORD is right behind me taking care of everything, and He will make sure that I don’t go home empty handed!

I sometimes miss those days when my three-year old son would open his dinosaur books and eagerly tell me all about the Rhamphorhynchus and Pachycephalosaurus –and yes, he could pronounce them flawlessly. In fact, he knew more about dinosaurs than most adults. What really blessed my heart, though, was his rather intense defense of Scripture. “There are dinosaurs in the Bible!” he would tell anyone who would listen, then begin a dissertation on creation. That’s my boy!

Dinosaurs in the Bible?  Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t. There are lots of Scriptures that talk about such things as dragons, flying fiery serpents, and of course, the behemoth and leviathan (the term dinosaur wasn’t coined till 1841).

In the book of Job, God tells Job to “Behold now behemoth, which I made with thee.” No surprise here, we were already told in the first chapter of Genesis (verses 25 & 26) that God created man and “cattle” on the same day. The word cattle is translated from the Hebrew word b’haymah (behemoth). However, the word cattle as used here, denotes any large beast. Cows are only one  type of “beast” that fall into this category.

In Job’s account, however, God is speaking of a very specific behemoth. He said that this behemoth: eateth grass as an ox. Lo now, his strength is in his loins, and his force is in the navel of his belly. He moveth his tail like a cedar: the sinews of his stones are wrapped together. His bones are as strong pieces of brass; his bones are like bars of iron. He is the chief of the ways of God.

Wow, what a very vivid picture of a sauropod – that’s the genus of giant dinosaur that has legs like bars of iron and tails like cedar trees. Even so, most Bible reference notes say that behemoth was either an elephant or (most likely) a hippopotamus. I find this explanation to be entertaining to say the least, so I’ve included a photo of a hippo’s tail in order for you to share in my mirth.

 

Yep, that looks like a cedar tree — NOT!

 

How about this sauropod’s tail?  Is it just me, or does this look a little more believable?


What I do not find amusing, however, is the big tale that has turned this little, wimpy hippo tail into that of behemoth’s.  This man-made doctrine is called the “gap theory” or “gap creationism” and it is a whopper of a tale. In a very simplified nutshell, the gap theory claims that there is a gap in the narrative between the first two verses of Genesis.  In between those verses, some claim, is an undisclosed narrative of a previous creation –the one that held dinosaurs, ice ages and all the other things that would “require” an earth that is far older than the one we know.

Apparently, that “first” earth had its own problems and became as extinct as the dinosaurs that supposedly roamed it.  Therefore, as the gap theory claims, God destroyed this first earth so that it became without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And you know the rest of the story because it is recorded in Scripture.

Well, that would make for a very convenient explanation for some of those often misunderstood Scriptures. But there are several problems with the gap theory, including the following Scripture:

And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea (Revelation 21:1).    Oops, the first earth here is clearly speaking of the one you and I are living in now; so much for a pre-existing, dinosaur filled earth.

Now back to the hippo tail.  If only mankind would take God at His word, we would have no problem believing Him when he informs us that He created man and dinosaur on the same day and that they lived together on the same planet –this planet.  We would then read the fortieth chapter of Job and correctly understand that it was speaking of a big ole sauropod. I must admit, however, that a correct understanding of Job’s behemoth would mean  less laughter at the zoo near the hippo enclosure  when folks like me looked at its “tail like a cedar tree.”  But that’s a small price to pay for debunking such an outrageous tale as the gap theory; don’t you think?

Just past a golden cornfield in the middle of nowhere, lies a very quiet, obscure refuge. Though I haven’t been anywhere near the place for decades, it did serve me well during my dreadful teenage years. Life was very bleak back then, almost more than I could bear, so I was very thankful to have my own private “sump” to escape to.

The sump was really a drain-off ditch for the fields during the rainy season. Few people even realized it was there because it was carefully hidden behind a wind-breaking wall of trees. For most of the year, the interior of the sump looked like a dry creek bed strewn with a few fallen trees – those were my chairs, or airplane seats, or whatever else my imagination needed them to be at various times. I spent many hours alone in the sump contemplating the complexities of life or simply crying; it was very soothing. Had I known God back then, I would have spent many hours praying in the sump, but it would be many years before I would come to know Him. Still, looking back, I am certain that He was there with me in that place of refuge even though I was unaware.

Jesus, our Messiah, also understood the need for quiet refuge, especially to pray:

And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was there alone (Matthew 14:23).

And he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed (Luke 5:16).

There are several other Scriptures which indicate that it was Jesus’ habit to go off alone for quiet times of prayer, too many too include here. It seems to me that if the Son of God, Himself, understood the necessity of going off alone to pray, then we, in our human frailty, should do so all the more.

Dear reader, we live in a hustle and bustle world that pulls at us from every direction. It is so easy to become overwhelmed! May I encourage you to purpose in your heart to find more time to go off alone to contemplate life’s complexities, or even to cry if need be. I promise, however, you won’t be truly alone. The Lord, Jesus, will be with you even if you do not know Him yet. He longs to spend time with you and He will meet you there.

I also recommend that you go off occasionally and have some “me-time”  for no reason at all, at least sump-times. After all, there is nothing like a bit of quiet solitude to soothe and refresh one’s soul in a frenzied, hectic world.

Out of the mouths of babes! Several years ago, when my youngest daughter was about three years old, she brightened the life of a stranger in the most unexpected way. She was sitting in the front of a grocery cart, dangling her legs to relieve the boredom of the long wait in line, when she suddenly chirped a friendly “Hi” to someone behind me.

As I turned to greet the person to whom she had spoken, I couldn’t help but notice his grubby clothing, and his tattoos and piercings –which were not all that common back then. Though I knew nothing of his life, he did perfectly fit the stereotypical image of a really tough biker thug. My daughter must have thought he looked like a bad boy as well, because she asked him a rather odd question –you never know what a child is going to say.

“Mister, do you smoke?”

With apparent amusement, the man answered, “No ma’am, I don’t.”

I thought it very sweet of him to call her ma’am. He certainly was a far more gentle man than his outward appearance suggested. As a parent, I felt the need to lovingly advise my daughter that it was not polite to pry. But she didn’t give me the chance. Without skipping a beat, my golden-haired child replied, “Good! I’m glad you don’t. You prob’ly won’t go to hell if you smoke, but if you do smoke, that might mean your heart isn’t right with Jesus.”

I was flabbergasted. Yes, we taught our children that smoking was bad, but who would have thought that a three-year-old would then preach the evils of smoking to a stranger in a grocery store? I felt the need to apologize on behalf of my daughter. But again, she didn’t give me the chance.

“Mister, can I sing you a song?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, you sure can!” he responded with a very genuine smile. He wasn’t offended at all. Obviously, he was touched by the innocence of a child’s heart.

Then, loudly enough for half the store to hear, my daughter sang these words:

“Jesus loves the little children; all the children of the world…”

All eyes were now fixed on my precious child; especially his. As I looked into the face of this burly, hard-looking man, I was surprised to see tears run down his cheek. This time he spoke to me.

“If I live to be a hundred,” he said, “I will never forget this little girl.” And he probably never did.

This time of year, much of the world’s thoughts are on another little child; the baby Jesus. Though he wasn’t really born in December, Christmas carols like “O Holy Night” and “Away in a Manger” remind us that Jesus IS the Savior of all mankind.

Truly, Jesus is the Son of God and He came to this earth, born of a virgin, to dwell in human form. But that baby grew to be a man, then offered His own life as atonement for sin. Why? As my daughter so aptly sang, “Jesus loves the little children of the world!”

No matter our ages, we are all God’s children and He loves us! “Red, brown, yellow, black and white; we are precious in His sight….”

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life
(John 3:16).

Wow! Where has the time gone? I’ve been so busy working on an exciting project that I scarcely noticed the days flying by at the speed of light. I am so close to finishing up my project, it will be several more days before I can get back to blogging. So, I thought this would be a good time to introduce my Polished Pearls blog to those of you who haven’t visited there yet –and vice versa. You can always get there quickly by clicking the link at the top right of this page. But for now, you can just click on the link below to read an archived message called:

click here  → How Dumb Are We?

Okay I admit it; a few days ago, I almost mixed dried mustard into my pumpkin pie filling instead of ginger.  It’s a good thing I keep a pair of reading glasses in the kitchen and have the good sense to use them.  Otherwise, our dessert would have tasted awful.  At least I can blame my aging eyes for this near-blunder. 

Speaking of nasty-tasting desserts, I will also confess to you that I still hold first place in the “worst cake ever made” category for novice bakers.  Granted, I was quite young when I made that horrible thing, but that error was one of ignorance rather than limited vision. Allow me to explain:

Because this was the first cake I had ever baked from scratch, I was careful to follow the recipe to the letter.   From its beautiful, golden-brown appearance, the cake looked perfect when it came out of the oven. It tasted awful, though.  Words cannot adequately describe how nasty this cake tasted, or how confused I was by the outcome.  What had I done wrong?

Determined that I would not accept such a failure, I decided to toss the cake and start over.  Again, I assembled all the ingredients and followed the recipe meticulously. The flour was carefully sifted, the butter properly softened, the vanilla carefully measured and every ingredient added in order.  Surely, I reasoned, this cake would be better.

Definitely not!

The second cake was every bit as disgusting as the first; I was practically in tears.  With great disappointment, I informed my parents that we were not having cake that night because I was the worst baker on the planet and both cakes were in the trash, where they belonged.

“What did you put in the batter?” they asked.

I explained that I had followed the cookbook recipe and used only the ingredients listed.  I wasn’t sure why my parents started laughing, but they led me into the kitchen and, pulling a bottle from the cabinet, asked if that was the vanilla I used.

“Yes,” I answered, somewhat confused.

More laughs.  “That’s not vanilla,” they explained. “You used liquid smoke in the cake.”  (Unbeknownst to me, we had run out of vanilla.)

To be fair, the label had come off the bottle some time before.  But even if it hadn’t, I didn’t have a clue what liquid smoke was. Apparently, it’s a dark, liquid seasoning that is used to add a smoky flavor to foods. Trust me; you do not want to eat cake which tastes like it just came out of the smokehouse!

I was thinking about this recently after I listened to a young pastor present some rather “contemporary” suggestions for bringing the unsaved into his church. For the most part, his ideas were pretty good. And if the preacher’s vision to reach the lost had been more firmly grounded in Scripture, the outcome would have been very sweet and desirable.   However (without elaborating on the details), I noted that a few of his suggested “ingredients” for successful evangelism were, in reality, a violation of God’s Word. His vision was admirable, but he simply did not have proper understanding in regards to the propriety of his ideas.

We must remember, when putting together any kind of church outreach, that the proper “ingredients” are absolutely vital!

Although our hearts may be sincere and our motives pure, we must always be careful not to unintentionally substitute the sweet “vanilla” of God’s instruction for the (liquid) “smoke” of “cultural relevance.”  True, our well-meaning efforts might produce something that looks really good, but if we have made substitutions in God’s “recipe” for Christian conduct, (even unknowingly), the results will most likely be distasteful to the Lord.

Of course, we do need to earnestly minister to the unsaved, but it is only the LORD who can effectively bring them into the fold.  He Himself said: No man can come to me, except the Father which has sent me draw him (John 6:44).   Programs are nice, and preaching is important, but our primary focus should be to fulfill our divine calling to be a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that  [we] may declare the praises of him who called [us] out of darkness into his wonderful light (I Peter 2:9).

Dear reader, let us   firmly resolve to once again raise the church to the standards of holiness she once walked in, that God may be pleased to dwell in His sanctuary as He did in days of old.  Upon doing so, we will most assuredly have the right ingredients to properly minister to those whom the LORD will send.

And that, my friend, is sweet and desirable to the LORD!

 “Once we realize that imperfect understanding is the human condition there is no shame in being wrong, only in failing to correct our mistakes.”                   ~George Soros

Some post-Thanksgiving tips from an ardent food-stretcher.

Every year, after Thanksgiving, I have a few friends who bring me a very unusual gift –their turkey carcass (that’s what I call the big pile of bones that’s left-over after all the meat has been removed). Granted, bones might seem like a strange gift, but truthfully, I am the one who asked my friends to start saving them for me, and my friends have always been gracious enough to accomodate my odd request. Believe me; I always appreciate my boney turkey treats –and the friends who bring them.

Actually, this little tradition started several years ago when I was searching for ways to stretch our food a lot farther than our grocery budget. I know that many of you already do creative things with your left-over bones (broth), but today I want to veer from my traditional blogging long enough to share some post-Thanksgiving tips with those who might benefit from them.

After I put the rest of our turkey meat into containers and tuck them safely into the refrigerator for the next week’s turkey salad, pot pie, and casserole meals; I tightly wrap the bones in plastic wrap and place them in the freezer. When it’s time for some scrumptious soup–and what better time than a cold December day– I put the defrosted (or frozen) bones, in my boat-size slow cooker (and cover them with water) to prepare some tasty and nutritious broth. Unless you plan to feed a small army, however, you will probably want to use a crock pot and only half the bones).

Next, I open the spice cabinet and throw in whichever seasonings suit me at the moment. These usually include celery salt, basil, parsley, rosemary, thyme, oregano and sea salt. I cannot give you exact measurements, though, because I am one of those “pinch of this” and “smidgen of that” kind of cooks. Just season your broth according to preference. Don’t forget, however, there is an unwritten law that anything cooked in a pot should have fresh garlic gloves tossed in!

Let the bones “cook” until the rest of the meat falls off the bone –and you will be amazed at how much there is. Then, strain the broth and sort through the bones, tossing the meat bits back into the broth. By this time you will have finely chopped some onion, celery and carrots to cook in the broth. I find that chopping the vegetables in the food processor makes for a much better soup than cutting them into bite-sized pieces. After the veggies have cooked a half- hour or so, stir some rice into the broth and let it cook until tender (how much rice you use depends on the size of your cooker and the amount of broth you are making. Add the rice sparingly, though, as it will swell greatly and your soup will turn into soupy casserole otherwise.

Finally comes the best part; about fifteen-minutes before serving, add ™Velveeta cheese, or shredded cheddar, to the broth and let it melt. Obviously, the amount of cheese will depend on how much soup you are making, and how cheesy you want it.

But wait, there’s still more. If you used only half the bones, you can repeat the broth process later for some other delicious foods. I prefer to make the larger batch of broth in the slow cooker then pour at least half of it into canning jars to store in the freezer. If you choose to do the same, be sure to leave at least one-inch of space at the top of the jar for the liquid to expand as it freezes. (You can freeze this soup after it is finished, but the better option is to freeze only the broth and finish the soup on the day you will be eating it.)

Now what to do with that extra broth? On a day when you need a very simple, no-fuss meal, simply pour a jar or two of defrosted broth into your crock pot with one or two bags of ™Reams egg noodles and let the crock do all the work. (If you froze small batches of leftover turkey as well, throw some of that in there too.) Can you say delicious?

By now, you have probably stretched that Thanksgiving day bird into at least six budget-friendly meals. And you might even have extra broth for some good old-fashioned turkey & vegetable soup or other recipes that call for chicken/turkey broth.

If you are blessed with awesome friends like mine, ask them to toss their turkey bones your way. You can make quite a few quarts of broth with just one turkey carcass. If you are like me, and spend half your life in the kitchen, you can use a pressure canner and can the broth. But freezing the broth works well too. I recommend the canning jars because the broth freezes well in them and stays fresh for a long time.

I could throw a few more ideas your way, but Thanksgiving is just a few days away and I’m sure you are busy; so I’ll wrap this up with a final thought:

Although we all enjoy the holidays, they can leave us feeling drained and weary. But life goes on and so must we. After all, there are plenty of people who need us, whether they realize it or not. I would just like to encourage you, dear reader, that when you are exhausted and feel you have nothing left to give; you still have a great deal more to offer.

There is an important lesson to be learned from those after-dinner turkey bones; although they appear stripped and useless, they are still sufficient to feed the hungry through the hands of a wise cook. In the same way, you  may  feel completely depleted, but if you place yourself in the hands of our wise and  loving LORD, He will multiply what little you have in order to “nourish” the lives of others; you need only be a willing vessel.

And he [Jesus] said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).