Row, Row, Row Your Boat…

I awoke this morning from a very vivid dream.

I dream a lot, so this is not such an uncommon thing. The dream is worth the telling, I think.

I was dreaming of a conversation with a gentlewoman from my church, a lady I know but don’t interact with on a regular basis — an acquaintance.

She was telling me that her daughter-in-law reads my blog and that she is encouraged by it! This sweet lady was spurring me on to keep writing, saying that God was using my words to encourage others, to bring them hope, to give them the strength and determination to keep on trying, living, laughing, trusting God each day.

What a blessing to me to hear this, even in a dream!

Purpose has been on my mind lately. I have spoken with my husband, my sons, and the ladies in my book club about this. I took a class last year called “Embracing Purpose.”

Purpose — to have something to do each day…that matters — this is how I see it.

Dictionary.com gave this definition:

noun

1. the reason for which something exists or is done, made, used, etc.

2. an intended or desired result; end; aim; goal.

3. determination; resoluteness.

4. the subject in hand; the point at issue.

5. practical result, effect, or advantage:  to act to good purpose.

Yes, I like this way of thinking also… “The reason for which something,” or someone, “exists.”

I believe I am here for a purpose…that I was created on purpose for a purpose…a divine plan.

God saved you by his special favor when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God.

Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it.

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.
Ephesians 2:8-10 NLT

I love the image of an Artist creating a work of art, a masterpiece, that is designed, not to just sit and look pretty and be admired or contemplated, but designed to DO something of value. Designed and created with intrinsic value…loved by the Artist. And in the doing of that something, the Artist gets the glory! Isn’t that awesome?

My latest Bible study is about spiritual gifts…given by the Holy Spirit to those who believe in Jesus, for the purpose of building up the members of God’s family. Vine’s Expository Dictionary explains spiritual gifts, in part, like this:

charisma — “a gift of grace, a gift involving grace” (charis) on the part of God as the donor, is used

     (a) of His free bestowments upon sinners, Rom 5:15, 16; 6:23;11:29;

     (b) of His endowments upon believers by the operation of the Holy Spirit in the churches, Rom 12:6; 1Cr 1:7; 12:4, 9, 28, 30,31; 1Ti 4:14; 2Ti 1:6; 1Pe 4:10;

Charis, “grace,” is translated “gift.”.

Interesting stuff. Ann Voskamp has a really good explanation of charis in her book “One Thousand Gifts.”

Yesterday my class was discussing the gift of “effectings of miracles,” and I was reminded of a favorite Bible story…the story of Elijah and the widow who fed him during the drought. The story is found in I Kings 17:7-16.

Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land.

Then the word of the LORD came to him (Elijah):

“Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow in that place to supply you with food.”

So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?”

As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”

“As surely as the LORD your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread–only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it–and die.”

Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son.

For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD gives rain on the land.’ ”

She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family.

For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.

This story fascinated me as a child, and it still does.

It reminds me that God is the maker of miracles. He is the giver of gifts. He is the one Who is good, and He delights to give good gifts to His kids.

I grew up poor, and it is especially meaningful and encouraging to me to know that God will supply what I need when I need it, even if it takes a miracle. And the one through whom the miracle comes may not be perfect.

I have always imagined this widow women as a grumpy little lady who is somewhat hardened by the hardships she has lived through…a widow who is poor, barely able to feed her son.

But God looked down on her with love and compassion. He gave her a gift of grace –charis. And He made it possible for her to be a gift…to bless Elijah as God had blessed her…to pass along the blessing. What joy comes from the act of giving. I think it makes you alive inside as you give your life away!

THIS — was truly a miracle. This lady had a purpose that God planned for her ahead of time, and she didn’t even know it!

And the jar of flour was not used up, and the jug of oil did not run dry.

Purpose…live it…and watch to see how God provides day by day exactly what you need!

Hoosker – what?

Does anybody remember the old game called Husker Du? (It’s pronounced hoosker doo, and I had to look it up to see how it was spelled.) Husker Du is a memory game I used to play when I was little, every time we visited one of my sisters’ family in Tennessee.  I can’t remember which sister, but I think it was Joan. She had 5 kids and always had games in the house.

When I looked it up today, I found out that you can buy the game on Amazon, of course, and that hooskerdoo means noise and nonsense. Yeah, I can relate to that. So much noise and nonsense in my life sometimes, I can’t hear myself think…or remember where I put my _______. Fill in the blank with just about any noun, and I have lost or re-found it this week, probably a dozen times. I think I have mentioned before that I am now counting the number of times I find my glasses as opposed to counting how many times I lose them. Sometimes it feels like my life is one big game of Husker Du. The good news is I am beginning to win!

Can anyone relate?

Today the big ordeal for me was getting some letters in the mail for my sons who are going on a mission trip to Romania this summer. You would think that this would be easy for me, since my background is computer graphics / administrative assistance. Just print the letters, type in the addresses and print the labels, adhere the labels and stamps to the envelopes, and stuff the letters inside. This…should have been easy, but each part of the process was tedious. The only thing that went right was that my sons wrote their own letters and did a marvelous job presenting their thoughts.

I started the process 4 days ago ,and I have gotten them in the mail today.

First, the letters contained color pictures, and the magenta ran out on my printer. No magenta cartridge in the house, so I called my husband to ask him to add that to his shopping list. Thankfully, I was smart enough to ask him to also get the cyan and yellow, because they ran out today.

Next, I looked for the file with our family addresses, all set up to print nicely on our sticky label sheets, and I could not find the file. I found another old label file and edited it to print. When I printed it, the addresses were too small and did not print right in the little stickers…wrong file, wrong size. I am not yet up to speed on the new Microsoft Word, and I could not figure out how to re-size the boxes…it used to be so much easier. So I ended up cutting the labels that printed wrong so that I could still use them. If you happen to get one of these letters in the mail, you now know why it looks a little strange.

Finally, I started a new file with all the addresses that were just too far off to use, and I also put in the return addresses, and printed. It worked! Yea! So nice when something goes right.

Stamps…I had about 10 Christmas stamps left. They were the kind with pictures of the abominable snowman, Frosty and Rudolph. I could have used them, but I needed a bunch more, so I picked up a couple books when I did the grocery shopping.

Life…the simplest things can be so hard sometimes.

I believe this mission trip will be something special. Otherwise, why would something so easy turn into such an ordeal?

Life is hard, but God is good.

I love the LORD because he hears and answers my prayers.
Because he bends down and listens, I will pray as long as I have breath!
Death had its hands around my throat; the terrors of the grave overtook me. I saw only trouble and sorrow.
Then I called on the name of the LORD: “Please, LORD, save me!”
How kind the LORD is! How good he is! So merciful, this God of ours!
The LORD protects those of childlike faith; I was facing death, and then he saved me.
Now I can rest again, for the LORD has been so good to me.
He has saved me from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling.
And so I walk in the LORD’s presence as I live here on earth!
Psalm 116:1-9 NLT

Sometimes when life gets loud and hard, it is good to go back and remember how good the Lord is to us. He has saved me from death many times, no doubt more times than I know.

And He listens to my prayers, even when they sound like this: “Really, God? Did you think I really needed this today?”

He listens the way a good parent listens, with love and patience and sometimes with a sense of humor. With mercy. He remembers that we are dust.

“And so I walk in the Lord’s presence as I live here on earth.”

Lift Up Your Head and Sing, for Goodness’ Sake

I had a moment of sadness at Thanksgiving. Really it was more like self-pity, if I am honest.

We probably all have moments like this, where we just look at ourselves and our own lives and see the worst. That is why we should fix our eyes on whatsoever is good… It keeps things in perspective.

Music has always been a big part of my life. Some of my earliest and happiest memories are of singing around the piano with my family. My mother played piano and my dad sang. He taught me and my siblings to sing at a young age. Being a “preacher’s family,” we were the “special music” many Sundays at church.

Then, when my brother Phillip was around 13, he was inspired by certain contemporary Christian music groups, and he taught himself to play piano. He is truly talented.

Phillip learned to play music that really appealed to young people like me. Soon my sisters who were still at home, Marilyn and Sharon, and Phillip, and I formed our own little singing group. We started singing at our church, and then we were asked to sing at Revival meetings and camps all around our area and even in other southern states. It was a lot of fun, and it was also a great way to share what we really believed. The four of us believed in Jesus, and loved Him because we knew Him, and He had forgiven our sins. I mean, we really believed, and still do, and it has made a difference in our lives.

So…why was I sad this Thanksgiving?

One of the side effects of my brain surgery is that I forgot how to sing. I can hear the tones and rhythms in my head, but it has been hard to get the sounds in my head to come out of my mouth.

So at Thanksgiving the four of us were together in the kitchen getting ready for a baby shower for my niece, and Phillip started singing a Christmas carol, and then went on to a song our little family group used to sing. And my sisters quickly chimed in…in 3-part harmony. They really sounded great — but I? I was afraid to sing…afraid to even try to sing the part that I heard inside.

The music was still there. I was just afraid that I would not be able to carry my part. And I was sad.

For a moment.

Then God brought to my mind all the wonderful things I have relearned since my surgery. Instead of counting the things I have lost, I started counting the things I still have and the multitude of things I have found…and relearned…and regained. And then I felt the joy of the Lord bubbling up in me again.

And that JOY of the LORD truly IS MY STRENGTH.

I praise God that I am walking… that I am able to squat and bend over without toppling. I am walking up and down stairs with hardly a thought! I am writing and painting and thinking creative thoughts! I find my glasses dozens of times everyday! And I have now driven the car by myself on more than one occasion…and I did great!

More than all these miracles is the way I feel the presence of God. He is so real to me…like breathing in and out…He is that close to me. I don’t understand how that works, but I know it is real because it is happening to me right now.

Someone posted a video of a flash mob singing Christmas songs in a mall, and I stopped and listened and watched just like the pedestrians in the mall did. As I watched the video, I noticed that the singers all lifted their heads as they began to sing. Looking up. Lifting their heads and voices and looking up. Not only did this allow the sound to fill the mall, but it also caused me, as a listener, to get my eyes off the singers and really hear the message they sang. A message of hope. The message of hope and love that is the Christmas story.

And guess what? I have decided to sing as loudly as I can when I have the chance because I have good reason to sing. If it doesn’t sound that great to you, I am sorry, but not that sorry. I love the Lord, and I will sing to Him in my best voice, and no matter what it sounds like to you or to me, it sounds like beautiful music to God.

So if you happen to be standing close to my family Christmas Eve, don’t be surprised if you hear me singing my best harmony to the carols that are played. Christmas is the time to sing if there is ever the right time to sing.

Painting the Back Side of the Barn

The weather has turned cold here in the south, and I mean, COLD. Even for a city in the not so southern states, it would be considered cold, even frigid, for this time of year. So taking my daily walk has become hard. I am finding myself doing my indoor walking routine with the very enthusiastic girl on CD. I turn down the sound and do the workout to my favorite, upbeat, contemporary Christian music. It feeds my soul while I workout my body!

Recently I have had a memory of my favorite uncle, coming back to me over and over again. Though I am from a big family, I only have two uncles I remember — Uncle Joe and Uncle Lee. They were both great fellows; one was husband to my mom’s sister, and the other was husband to my dad’s sister. This was my Uncle Lee.

He was always a lot of fun. Sometimes when he came to visit us, he would drive us somewhere in his ultra-cool VW van, and he would rooollllll through the stop signs. For many years he farmed in Indiana, and then he and my Aunt Laura retired to Kissimmee, Florida. (I had to check the spelling on that one three times to be sure it was right.)

When I was little, we used to visit Aunt Laura and Uncle Lee on their farm in Indiana. I was quite little, so I only have a few memories of these special times, but they are wonderful memories. I used to ride out in the truck with Uncle Lee as he went to check on the pigs (or hogs. Is there a difference?) They were huge and very loud. They scared me a bit.

On the dash in Uncle Lee’s truck, there was a bobbing compass. I used to love to watch it as I sat on the big, firm bench seat of that truck.

When we visited, we would always make a trip into town to the Dairy Queen. My family, being so large and somewhat poor, didn’t get to go to places like Dairy Queen very often, so this was an enormous treat, no pun intended. I will never forget the Dilly Bars. They were so good! Aunt Laura would always get each of us one, and then bring home a whole bag of them to enjoy later.

Then there were the little metal water cups Aunt Laura used. They were each a different color, and they would fog up on the outside when they were filled with ice water. The ice water was kept in the fridge in a tupper-wear container with a spigot on the side. It was fun and easy to serve yourself. Never did water taste so good as it did, being served from that tupper-wear container in those frosty, metal cups.

Since my uncle was a farmer, he would always clean up before meals, on the very nice, enclosed back porch. He used gritty, Lava soap and Boraxo to clean the muck off his hands and forearms.

And my aunt always made Ambrosia. Boy, was it good!

When my Uncle Lee died, I was a young married woman. My whole family traveled back to Indiana to attend the services there because Uncle Lee was very special. I will never forget that solemn occasion, and how we each felt the loss of this good man. I remember riding to the funeral with my sister Marilyn, and her daughter Erin, who was then a little girl, sat on my lap as we drove through the small town. This was a comfort to me.

At the grave-side service, the minister said that, if Uncle Lee could speak for himself that day, he might say that he had just passed over and was now painting the back side of the barn. I liked to think of Uncle Lee that way. I missed him a lot already, but I found comfort knowing that I would see him again someday.

I remember after the service, I gave my Aunt Laura a long, long hug. I could not stop crying, and she said to me that she was glad to know I had loved Uncle Lee so much. And I did. Then my father saw me crying, and he came over to me, and just wrapped his arms around me. I don’t know when I ever felt so comforted as I did then. He said, “You know, we all have to go sometime, but we know Lee is in a better place now. It will be okay.” And he was right. I will never forget the comfort I felt in the strength of my dad’s arms that day. I knew it would be okay, because Uncle Lee was with Jesus.

Since that day, my Aunt Laura, my dad and mom, and several other loved ones have passed away. Our life on this earth is temporary. But our love for each other goes on, and I like to think that it will last forever for those of us who know the Lord. We do not grieve as those who have no hope, because our hope is in the Lord. I know that one day I will see Uncle Lee and Aunt Laura, and Mama and Daddy again.

I Corinthians 15:55-57
“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting? For sin is the sting that results in death, and the law gives sin its power. How we thank God, who gives us victory over sin and death through Jesus Christ our Lord!”