Tuesday night. The weather man is saying there could be ice. Or not. This makes me think about how we don't know what tomorrow holds. I want to share a thought with you, while we don't know what tomorrow holds friend, we do know who holds tomorrow. Yes, some of you will call to mind a song from a hymnal. But some of you, I am so afraid, will read this skeptically and think that I am being over simplistic. Bear with me, okay....
Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man comes to the Father but by me." (John 14:6) We are also told in Hebrews 11:6 that without faith it is impossible to please God. Again in Hebrews 12:2 "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Praise the Lord!
So, I beg you, if you haven't already put your faith in this Jesus, please do so now. I know that his grace is sufficient. There is nothing that you can have ever done or could ever do that grace cannot cover. Know Jesus and know truth.
Yours in love and Christ
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Valentine Postings
Today, I walked out to the edge of the woods and saw evidence of rebirth. There were shoots of bright green breaking out of the brown winter dormancy. There were little fairy flowers of purple, blue and white. Then sun was still above the trees, though setting fast and I saw evidence of new buds. I felt small. I looked up into the blue sky and wondered how can I explain this to you, the ones reading this, without sounding like a crazy woman shy of a load... and I decided I probably can't and it probably doesn't matter.
I felt the wind. And I wondered about the ministering angels that God has sent for me, as I am one who inherited His salvation? (Hebrews 1:14) I thanked God for these same angels that were there to carry Aiden through the heavenlies. I imagined his eyes wide with amazement as he saw things that no one has seen that is here on this earth. I know he wasn't afraid, I know he knew where he was going. He was going to live with his eternal heavenly Father. I can imagine the strength, the kindness these angels had. I imagine that as they came to the Father, these very same angels placing him on the lap of this most wonderful God. I am so thankful that just as these angels were there to minister and carry Aiden, so too were there angels taking care of Dewey.
And when I was thinking about this, I too thought about the fact that I am enjoying creation, but glory to God, Aiden is in the presence of the Creator! Just think, to see where sin has never been. Just think.
So on this Valentines day, I took a stick and in the dirt I drew a heart and put a big A there. And I asked God to please tell Aiden he is still my first grandchild valentine. And one day I will be there with him. Because this world is not my home, I am a stranger looking for a city.
Meme
I felt the wind. And I wondered about the ministering angels that God has sent for me, as I am one who inherited His salvation? (Hebrews 1:14) I thanked God for these same angels that were there to carry Aiden through the heavenlies. I imagined his eyes wide with amazement as he saw things that no one has seen that is here on this earth. I know he wasn't afraid, I know he knew where he was going. He was going to live with his eternal heavenly Father. I can imagine the strength, the kindness these angels had. I imagine that as they came to the Father, these very same angels placing him on the lap of this most wonderful God. I am so thankful that just as these angels were there to minister and carry Aiden, so too were there angels taking care of Dewey.
And when I was thinking about this, I too thought about the fact that I am enjoying creation, but glory to God, Aiden is in the presence of the Creator! Just think, to see where sin has never been. Just think.
So on this Valentines day, I took a stick and in the dirt I drew a heart and put a big A there. And I asked God to please tell Aiden he is still my first grandchild valentine. And one day I will be there with him. Because this world is not my home, I am a stranger looking for a city.
Meme
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Focus on What is Important
When I focus on what I don't have I lose sight of what I do have
This afternoon I was almost in the midst of having a huge pity party. You know the kind where I start listing all the things I will never have, a Golden Anniversary, long legs, thin thighs, room for a grand piano... and I turned on the stereo to start listening to the CD for choir practice and low and behold I heard the words about disappointments being blessings in disguise. And Lord, you know what? I have so very much. More than that, I have an inheritance to share with the Lord of creation! I am a promised joint heir with Christ. What do I have in this life to be disappointed about? Really?
Sure I miss Aiden to the point of being breathless at times. I don't understand why he died. I know with assurance that not only does the promise of being a joint heir mean riches untold, it means that in the resurrection morning I will not only see my Lord and Saviour but I will be reunited with my precious Aiden to live in eternity, never to be disappointed or sad again! WOW!
So this afternoon, while the sun plays warm and comforting on my hands as I type on this keyboard, I do not want to waste the time looking inside what this world does not hold, but I want to look outward and forward to the promises that are mine to claim. This world is not my home, I am a part of those pilgrims, who are searching for a city built on a hill.
God is good. All the time.
Psalm 143:6 NIV 84
"I spread out my hands to you; my soul thirsts like a parched land."
Phillipians 4: 4,5 HCSB
"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your graciousness be known to everyone. The Lord is near."
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
The Panther
I don't have a sister, but I lived and was introduced to "sisterhood" with my Great old Granny, Mary O and her sister, Minnie. The bonds were born in Louisiana and the road to Alex was how it was maintained. Many hours were spent looking out the window of the car as my Mother sped down the highway, my grandmother led the singing as the front seat passenger. I was in the back with my great grandmother. There was much wisdom passed to me, but these trips into the swamps of Louisiana were where life stories were told. And when they were first told to me they were almost one hundred years old.
I read the highway signs. And every time at Homer, I would be told, there lies my first born, still born. No name. No grave marker. And every time a song was sung. Precious. Memories.
The women in my family sing. The men too. Our ancestors sang, Uncle Henry said we just sing because we have to. He knew this because he had a song too. He sang as a child with his sister Mary., She was two years older than he was.
They were children of farmers. Cotton was the main crop. Theirs were the hands that picked the fields. This story happened on one of those hot sultry summer days.
The Panther 1891
For the ones picking cotton, the field promised three things: hot feet, bleeding fingers and and aching back. You had a cotton sack that you dragged as you filled it with cotton. You knew going out that you best be ready to work hard and fast. You knew going out to the field that the youngest kids would get the short rows. When you were ten, like Mary O, you knew you better run fast and lay claim to a good row or you'd have no chance to go cool off in Big Creek because you'd be picking cotton all day long.
Between the house and the cotton field lay Big Creek. And a foot log. Now, I don't know how much you know about a foot log, but it was described this way to me. A tree was fell along the bank to lay across the creek so your feet wouldn't get wet getting to the other side. The limbs were cut away and chopped up to use in the cook stove.
As she ran that day, Mary saw the sun playing shadows through the brances of the trees and the
Spanish moss that hung from these trees. It was going to be a hot day. She ran all out. Her feet barely landed on the foot olg and she arrived with her brothers and sisters calling out, "This row is mine. This row is mine."
Suddenly, jast as she saw her mother coming up to the edge of the field, a frightful scream that sounded like a woman in the woods pierced the air. Her Momma yelled, "hush children!". Just then the second cream filled that morning with a fright that Mary had never before known.
"Run children, run! Don't look back! It's a panther! Run!", her Momma's voice filled the quiet with a controlled panic and command. Mary knew she meant business. Mary made a mental note of the younger ones and put them ahead of her, picking up and carrying the ones that couldn't run fast enough. She and Henry took off. John and Willie were ahead. Momma followed.
Then she saw it. Black, sleek and powerful, the panther showed itself from the woods. Threatening death to anyone it pounced on. Women and children were helpless to fight off an attack. And there was nothing to fight with in the cotton field.
John, Willie, Alma, Henry, Minnie, Momma, oh Lord please gut us home. Mary prayed for swift feet, for sure feet. Lord, please get us across that footlog. Oh please God don't let that panther eat Momma.
She could hear her Momma behind her. "Don't look back." "Run." How odd to find comfort in hearing these words, though they were uttered in fear. It meant Momma was alive and God was near.
Oh be careful of the foot log. Don't close your eyes. Don't look down. You gotta watch ahead and don't slow down. Now she could hear the panther in the woods, still chasing them.
Running. Blood pounding in her ears. Heart about to explode in her chest. Oh, Lord, thank you. The house. Safety.
I hear Momma.
We are still alive.
The cotton would be picked tomorrow. God was gonna be praised and thanked tonight.
I read the highway signs. And every time at Homer, I would be told, there lies my first born, still born. No name. No grave marker. And every time a song was sung. Precious. Memories.
The women in my family sing. The men too. Our ancestors sang, Uncle Henry said we just sing because we have to. He knew this because he had a song too. He sang as a child with his sister Mary., She was two years older than he was.
They were children of farmers. Cotton was the main crop. Theirs were the hands that picked the fields. This story happened on one of those hot sultry summer days.
The Panther 1891
For the ones picking cotton, the field promised three things: hot feet, bleeding fingers and and aching back. You had a cotton sack that you dragged as you filled it with cotton. You knew going out that you best be ready to work hard and fast. You knew going out to the field that the youngest kids would get the short rows. When you were ten, like Mary O, you knew you better run fast and lay claim to a good row or you'd have no chance to go cool off in Big Creek because you'd be picking cotton all day long.
Between the house and the cotton field lay Big Creek. And a foot log. Now, I don't know how much you know about a foot log, but it was described this way to me. A tree was fell along the bank to lay across the creek so your feet wouldn't get wet getting to the other side. The limbs were cut away and chopped up to use in the cook stove.
As she ran that day, Mary saw the sun playing shadows through the brances of the trees and the
Spanish moss that hung from these trees. It was going to be a hot day. She ran all out. Her feet barely landed on the foot olg and she arrived with her brothers and sisters calling out, "This row is mine. This row is mine."
Suddenly, jast as she saw her mother coming up to the edge of the field, a frightful scream that sounded like a woman in the woods pierced the air. Her Momma yelled, "hush children!". Just then the second cream filled that morning with a fright that Mary had never before known.
"Run children, run! Don't look back! It's a panther! Run!", her Momma's voice filled the quiet with a controlled panic and command. Mary knew she meant business. Mary made a mental note of the younger ones and put them ahead of her, picking up and carrying the ones that couldn't run fast enough. She and Henry took off. John and Willie were ahead. Momma followed.
Then she saw it. Black, sleek and powerful, the panther showed itself from the woods. Threatening death to anyone it pounced on. Women and children were helpless to fight off an attack. And there was nothing to fight with in the cotton field.
John, Willie, Alma, Henry, Minnie, Momma, oh Lord please gut us home. Mary prayed for swift feet, for sure feet. Lord, please get us across that footlog. Oh please God don't let that panther eat Momma.
She could hear her Momma behind her. "Don't look back." "Run." How odd to find comfort in hearing these words, though they were uttered in fear. It meant Momma was alive and God was near.
Oh be careful of the foot log. Don't close your eyes. Don't look down. You gotta watch ahead and don't slow down. Now she could hear the panther in the woods, still chasing them.
Running. Blood pounding in her ears. Heart about to explode in her chest. Oh, Lord, thank you. The house. Safety.
I hear Momma.
We are still alive.
The cotton would be picked tomorrow. God was gonna be praised and thanked tonight.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)