"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone. My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs They all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons. Too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog." I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed an d blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold n ose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind. The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article. Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . .and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Friday, February 29, 2008
The Old Man & The Dog by Catherine Moore
Jehovah Jireh
Today I have been thinking a lot about my car (yes, the one I crashed)! I have mixed feelings about transportation in general right now. I wonder if I will be apprehensive about getting back behind the wheel when my time comes. I wonder what sort of a wheel I will be getting behind. I also wonder about the method God will used to provide me with a new vehicle. I find myself sort of "morning" the loss of my last car. I was really attached to it not because it was an exceptional vehicle asthetically speaking, but because it was exceptional to me in that it was a con
stant reminder of God's continual provision in my life. I have had the incredible opportunity of sharing with people that God does, indeed, provide. My last car was given to me by some people who've shown repeated compassion for me in the last couple of years (thus, the attachment). I found myself in a position just this past August where I needed a vehicle. I currently own a Chrysler 300M that does not run due to a blown engine. I remember the day this happened; the feeling of complete helplessness and depression and not knowing how I would get to work and back or how I would get to church.
The next morning, I contacted one of my pastors and asked him to pray about a new vehicle for me. During that very same conversation, he told me that he had a vehicle that he would GIVE to me. This was the same vehicle that I crashed a couple of weeks ago. I was so amazed at the way God chose to provide and have always been attached to that car because of the constant reminder that He is Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. I'm sure people get very tired of hearing me say that there is a difference between BELIEVING and KNOWING. Because of that experience, I KNOW that God will continue to provide for me. I am even a little excited to see what He will do in making such a provision. I have begun to pray about this and am asking others to pray as well. If my life could be a constant testimony of God's provision and protection, I would be very happy to have such a testimony. I realize the earthly cost, but if you think about it, cars are just "stuff". I think maybe we often get so attached to our material possessions, that we forget to become attached to the very character of our Lord, thus becoming more attached to Him. I could not have had the opportunities I've experienced without Christ stepping in to take from me the very possessions He's loaned me to begin with. I would not have had the opportunities to better know Him and to experience the peace and security He so freely extends to me. I have to remind myself frequently that everything I have is His to begin with. What difference does it make if He takes it back? In addition, what difference does it make whether or not my future vehicle is nice looking or not? It really doesn't matter. I think I would prefer the opportunity to drive a "conversation piece" resulting in sharing the testimony of God's provision in my life repeatedly rather than owning a fully loaded, top-of-the-line, 2nd-mortgage classic that gives no cause for such explanation. Maybe this is part of becoming a grape!?!!!? 

Thursday, February 28, 2008
The "Peter" Experience
Last night I went to dinner with a good friend of mine. It was great to get out of the house for a while and we had a good time! We ended up going to Chili's for dinner, where I discovered the new love of my life: THE WHITE CHOCOLATE MOLTEN CAKE!!! This is a piece of Heaven on earth. This cake has melted white chocolate drizzled all over it with raspberry sauce drizzled on top of that. The giant scoop of ice cream that you see on top of the cake is engulfed in a hard, white chocolate shell. When you bite into the cake, warm, white chocolate comes spilling out of it... This was definitely worth the trip! I also received questions from people going in and out of the restaraunt about my scooter and ankle! One guy asked if I'd had a skiing accident. I was very tempted to answer, "yes", but I was a good girl and told the truth... A skiing accident sounds so much more exciting than running into a truck!
Today I am going to go get my hair "shaped"! I've had quite a few inches cut off, but I need to add in some layers and possibly some highlights. Last night, I got online to look at some different hairstyles. I found a free program that allowed me to scan a picture of myself into the computer and then "try on" different hairstyles. I now know what I'd look like with Cher's hairstyle... My mom and I found ourselves in tears because we were laughing so hard at the "extreme makeover" I was able to give myself online.
I am learning to take each day as it comes, one step at a time. So far, I've enjoyed the time with my family and things haven't been as boring or as painful as I had originally expected them to be. When I look at the big picture and recognize that I have a minimum of three more months of this to go, then I start to get overwhelmed and depressed; my "Peter" experience kicks in.
When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear.
But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid."
"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water."
"Come," he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"
-- Matthew 14:26-31 (NIV)
Me of little faith... Each time I begin to waiver or doubt, I begin to sink just as Peter did. How grateful I am that the Lord's mercy and grace are not contingent upon the level or strength of my faith! I would be in trouble EVERY time. Instead, He gives me opportunity after opportunity to resume that steady pace with Him.
How deep the Father's love for us.
How vast beyond all measure,
That He should give His only Son,
And make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss.
The Father turns His face away,
As wounds which mar the Chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory.
Behold the man upon the cross,
My sin upon His shoulder.
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers,
It was my sin that held Him there,
Until it was accomplished.
His dying breath has brought me life.
I know that it is finished.
I will not boast in anything.
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ,
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer,
But this I know with all my heart,
His wounds have paid my ransom.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer,
But this I know with all my heart,
His wounds have paid my ransom!
-- P, C & D
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Perfect Love

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them."
"When you love someone, all your saved-up wishes start coming out."
"Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to
the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.""If you love something, set it free; if it comes backs it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was."
"Love: Two minds without a single thought."
"The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death."
"Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age."
"To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world."
"Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a teardrop."

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? You've got to be kidding me! This isn't what REAL, PERFECT love is!
I had the joy of getting a phone call from a good friend of mine yesterday. She called to encourage me and to let me know that she is praying for a speedy recovery. Throughout the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she'd recently returned from a Women's Retreat sponsored by our church. During the retreat, the ladies studied I John 4, which describes perfect love. My friend encouraged me to take a look at the passage, which I did! This is what I found:
In the harvest field now ripened,
Little is much when God is in it.
Does the place you're called to labor,
When the conflict here is ended,
PERFECT LOVETuesday, February 26, 2008
How Great Is Our God!
I was thinking today that Ralph Waldo Emerson ALMOST got it right when he wrote:
I started experiencing muscle spasms again late this morning. This also made me glad that I'd cancelled my initial plans. The muscle spasms don't necessarily hurt, but they are really uncomfortable and difficult to get under control. I've also been having neck pain and discomfort intermittently. I think this is due to a combination of bruising from the car accident as well as having to use mostly upper body strength to transport myself around the house.
I was still pretty content to be at home, all things considered, but found myself starting to become a little discouraged. Odd how things can change quickly when you ask the Lord for help! Shortly after such a request had been made, my sister called. She has an odd (and sometimes twisted) sense of humor. She is unusual and unique, and somewhat undescribable. She's just very much her own entity in that I don't think anyone will every meet anyone like her. She's not replicable by any means. She has a very dry, quick sense of humor. This, in combination with some other factors, helped to steer my mood into a new, healthier direction. I also found out today that many people are reading my blog religiously. This surprised me a little and I thought I'd better step things up a notch.
The major contributing factor to my mood change arrived via a card from two of my favorite people. You know how some people always seem to know what to say or how to say it? These people are very much that way! The card they sent, is by far, the most meaningful card I've ever received. The front of the card says,
WARNING: This post is not for the faint of heart...
If you have a tendancy to become squeemish for any reason, I would advise that you not view these pictures! I got a little board last night and decided to play photographer using my feet as my subject.
I think the side-by-side comparison is my personal favorite. My toes look like cocktail weenies...
Enough of this. I'm starting to gross myself out...
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Happy Sunday!
Today I attended my parents' church. This was a pleasant, yet depressing experience. I really missed my own church today and wished that I could be there, but people at Mom & Dad's church were very friendly. I had several people express to me that they are praying for me and one lady who stated that she would like to visit me. I've also received cards from some of these people, so it was nice to be able to put a few faces with some names. I heard my dad preach for the first time in a few years today as well.
I found it interesting that my brother walked into the sanctuary accompanied by an entourage of six girls and one guy... He certainly makes the rounds very efficiently... I wanted to take a picture of this, but I think Mom would've confiscated my camera phone in the event that I'd done so during the service... Maybe next time.
uld probably spend some time this afternoon playing the piano. This Yamaha Grand belonged to my maternal grandmother. When she passed away, my great uncles (my grandfather came from a family of seven children), my dad and my mom's brother disassembled the piano and loaded it into a U-Haul. My dad and my uncle then drove the truck from California to Michigan in order to bring the piano home. It has sentimental value, of course, but we've always wanted a Yamaha Grand piano and so it's kind of neat that this ended up coming from my grandmother.
er of the family who has never quite known how to relax. Maggie is a very high strung, active English Setter who MUST have at least one walk a day or she goes berserk. It is difficult to tell that she is ten years old as she still acts very much like a one-year-old puppy! She will usually vent her frustration by digging through purses for gum or candy, eating someone's socks or underwear, pulling the toilet paper off the roll in the bathroom or rearranging pillows, blankets and her dog bed into an appropriate "nest". If this does not warrant your attention, she finds it necesary to resort to the stomping of the foot. She will pace around the house a few times and then park herself in front of you in a standing position while stomping her foot and barking. This is her way of demanding your instant attention. Your attention, however, must be accompanied by an afternoon walk. This is Mom and Maggie after their walk. You would think that Maggs would settle down for the rest of the day after such vigorous exercise.....WRONG! Give her about an hour and she'll be back to her usual routine. Saturday, February 23, 2008
The Aftermath...

Today was sort of a strange day. I had to go back to Sterling Heights to take care of details with my car. Apparently, after the accident, the Utica Police had my vehicle towed to an impound lot where it accumulated $255.00 worth of miscellaneous charges. I had to pay that amount and sign the title over to the storage facility holding my car in order for the car to be taken to a salvage yard. As you can see, it is no longer drivable.
I could not physically get out to take a look at the inside of the car, so Mom cleared out my personal effects and took note of the interior damage. She said the front of the car was pushed up into driver's seat (this explains the broken ankle!) and that the steering wheel was broken, cracked and severely distorted (this explains why my chest is bruised and very tender).
I wasn't sure what to expect prior to seeing the vehicle, but will tell you that upon viewing it's remains, things have "magically" fallen into perspective. Mom stated that she was more shaken up today than she was two weeks ago when she got the call that I'd been in an accident.
I woke up this morning feeling very sorry for myself, wishing I could be more mobile physically speaking, upset that no one replaced the toilet paper in the bathroom in the middle of the night and generally irritated overall. After seeing the car, I just feel grateful that things are not much worse!
I have been using a walker for around-the-house ambulation and was able to pick up a scooter today. This has made life much easier and I found it not nearly as difficult to get in and out of TGI Friday's for lunch today! It's amazing how little things like this can make or break your day! Here is a picture of me utilizing my geezer mobile. Please note: I usually look much better than this and do not normally wear such baggy, sloppy clothes!

Friday, February 22, 2008
Defining Moment...
Yesterday was a very busy day as I had an appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon who performed the ORIF (Open Reduction, Internal Fixation) of my right ankle. Mom and I left the house at 10:00 a.m. in order to reach Beverly Hills by 11:30. We ended up arriving at 11:00 a.m. and waited to see the doctor until 1:15-1:30ish. Unfortunately, two signs of having a good physician is a full office and lengthy wait time.
My name was finally called and I went into the "inner sanctum" of the Beverly Hills Orthopaedics. I was apprehensive, yet excited. I was worried that having stitches removed and my cast changed would be somewhat painful, yet I was excited at the prospect of being told that I could fully shower once again.
My cast and bandages were removed (and did not hurt, by the way), at which point I made a crucial mistake. I LOOKED down at my wound... that was pretty much all she wrote after that. I felt a little nauseus from that point on! It's odd how one can handle dead bodies, clean up miscellaneous fluids and deal with much of the gore of human illness, but when it applies to one's self, one bites the dust! I really should not have look down at my ankle!
My nausea passed and the ankle was x-rayed. The physician said that it looks like it is healing well. I was told that I cannot put ANY pressure or weight on it for three months! I think I'm going to go nuts. However, I now have a removable aircast, which means that I can remove the cast in order to fully shower or to put on a pair of jeans. That alone makes it worth it all! I never thought I would take showering for granted!
I still have much to learn from the Lord in the way of patience. I think about three more months of SITTING and it is difficult not to go nuts, but I do feel like a new woman with my new aircast! I found it much easier to sleep last night - I was actually able to sleep on my stomach!
My mom and I didn't get home until 7:00 p.m. last night, so we were both pretty exhausted. I was excited to see that I'd received two cards in the mail as well as a large package from my friend and second grade "co-pilot", Ben Henderson. I was puzzled as to what the contents of the package could be. Upon openning it, dozens of cards spilled out onto the kitchen table, designed by the second grade class we teach on Wednesday nights. I was so excited! These "little" things mean so much and are, in fact, BIG things for me. It just makes me miss everyone all the more, but I know that this is temporary. I found myself laughing repeatedly at the different sketches and drawings created by these 7-year-old hands. One partcular drawing portrayed a large truck running over a dog. I'm not sure if I'm the dog or if my own circumstances brought to memory one particularly horrifying day for one of my second graders... Another drawing puzzled me a bit as well. It simply said, "Pal?" on it. Is my student asking me if I am still in good enough condition to remain friends? How can you not see the humor in such innocent efforts on the part of the second graders to cheer me up? These cards made my whole week! I look forward to the day when I can thank them in person!
Thinking back on all the events of yesterday reminded me of a very profound, yet simple statement told to me this summer by one of my closest friends. She said, "After all of the struggles and hardships life's brought my way, I think the Christian life boils down to one thing: How much are you willing to trust [the Lord]?" Life is full of mountains and molehills. The unfortunate part about it is that we don't seem to think that we need God for molehills. However, when we are faced with a mountain, we are suddenly prostrate before Him, begging Him for mercy. Truly trusting Christ means that we steadily and faithfully depend on Him daily regardless of the size of our circumstances. Newsong wrote:
Chorus: When you believe He's all you need,
All of heaven celebrates,
repeat chorus
Bridge: His amazing grace is such a mystery,
Chorus (x2)
Pet Diaries
8 a.m. - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 a.m. - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 a.m. - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 a.m. - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 p.m. - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 p.m. - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 p.m. - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 p.m. - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00 p.m. - Puked up balloon! My favorite thing!
7:00 p.m. - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 p.m. - Wow! Watched TV with people! My favorite thing!
11:00 p.m. - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:

Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headleses body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable to f. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Idiots! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies". I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released -- and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell so he is safe. For now...
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Joy of Lord Will Be My Strength...
I find myself reflecting more and more on the song by Twila Paris, "The Joy of the Lord", based on the above passage.
Monday, February 18, 2008
My Redeemer is Faithful & True
My Redeemer
Recovery Update
I've had many phonecalls, letters, e-mails cards, etc. asking me how the recovery process is going. I am doing very well. I have not had any pain and have pulled myself off the pain pump and the pain pills. So far, I've taken nothing for pain since 12:00 p.m. yesterday. I am battling boredom! I think that will be my biggest issue in trying to recover.
I appreciate so much the phonecalls, especially, that I get from people asking me what they can do for me or simply just to pray with me. I received an especially touching call from the Missions Pastor at my church, Keith Kaynor. I've always appreciate he and his wife, Marilyn, so much in that they have such a grace about them. They have always gone out of their way to see that I am well cared for. Keith asked if he could pray with me (that is now the 2nd time he's done that!). There is no greater act of intimacy than bringing someone before the Lord in prayer. I am truly touched and humbled that he set aside this time for me.
I keep thinking of the passage in Psalm 68:19, "Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens." He didn't create me simply to leave me floundering on my own. He truly cares about me and goes to every length to make sure I continue to "tick" so to speak. This is the stuff of continued redemption; life's celebration.
Galatians 6:2 says, "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." I am so thankful for my loving church family who so willingly and so freely does this for me day after day. The prayers, the calls, the cards, etc. in combination serve to help me carry my burden.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
It's Good to Laugh!
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Soul Food
Some days are meant to be quiet days; days of solitude and contemplation. Not necessarily because the soul is depressed, but because it is thirsty & only God can quench that thirst. Recently after hearing "As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs after You, oh Lord," a question was posed: is that really true? Does my soul LONG after You? On some days, yes. On others, no. To reach a point in life where I can consistently LONG after Christ is a goal that I dream of achieving. Here are a few simple thoughts. They all ring true because He is The Truth.
1 Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers.
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.
3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.
4 Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.
"Blessed Be Your Name"
- Matt Redman
Friday, February 15, 2008
Grumpy Old Man Gets Hired at Arkansas Wal-Mart
Over the Mountain, there's a beautiful view. Over the molehill, there's just more moles...
I feel as though I've had a bit of a spiritual rebirth since I went to bed last night! No, I am not mystical. I am definitely NOT New Age. And, NO, I AM NOT HIGH! In my strive to become a grape, I forgot one important thing: You have to be a long-term thinker; a mountain climber and not a mole. Mountain climbers are incredibly LONG-TERM thinkers. They set their focus on a goal with the intention that they will stop at nothing to reach the goal. The goal could very well end up costing them their lives, but they press on. That is just what they do. It is as though they know nothing other than the purpose which drives them.
A mole, on the other hand, is really not very bright! Although I do not consider myself to be a mole "specialist", I can tell you from my Detroit Zoo experiences that they are incredibly short-term little varmits! They spend the day popping in and out of their dirt molehills. They never really seem to have any purpose or direction or reason for anything. They just keeping "popping". I really don't get it. They leave a mess in their wake and don't bother to vacuum when they are finished.
I suppose that if I wanted to make better sense of this, I would say that I need to become a mountain climber in addition to my quest to become a better grape. I desire the determination to reach a worthy goal, but I'm not sure what all of this consists of. Philippians 3:13b-14 says, "...Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." "...we wait for the blessed hope -- the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for Himself a people that are His very on, eager to do what is good." - Titus 2:13-14. It looks like I just got what I asked for! I must admit, that I am a little afraid sometimes. Do you think God knows my fear? "...For God is greater than our hearts, and He knows EVERYTHING." I John 3:20b I guess that answers that question. What if I get hurt or rediculed along the way? "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: 'For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.' No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loves us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither hieght nor depth nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:33-37. Wow... It's starting to sink in.
I spent the early part of this morning listening to the testimony of two particularly determined mountain climbers. Pastor Fred Froman and his wife, Susan, have chosen a remarkable route in their mountainous journey. The most meaningful concept for me, in hearing them speak, is the idea that God's redemption is to be celebrated. We cannot celebrate what we do not know. Therefore, we must ask him for the boldness to confess our sins to Him with the expectation that He is true to His Word. I John 1:9 - "If we confess our sins, He is FAITHFUL and JUST to FORGIVE us our sins and to cleanse us from ALL unrighteousness." I wonder if the Lord even blinks before He forgives me? "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us -- whatever we ask -- we know that we have what we asked of Him." - I John 5:14-15. Once again, He keeps His promises.
Once His forgiveness is extended, we can begin to celebrate His redemption. I am asking the Lord to make me a mountain-climbing grape at this point... Once again, I AM NOT HIGH. I simply want to stop at nothing until I see Him face to face. I don't want to be the mole who finds it easier and cooler when the day gets hot to duck in and out of the self-constructed molehills. I am finished feeling sorry for myself, for there are greater things to be sorry for. I know I'm asking for trials, for that is the only way we can know His grace, but I want life to be a celebration of our Redemptive Creator.
- Newsboys
Thursday, February 14, 2008
What the heck is an aspiring grape?
You may wonder what "Life In the Vine" or "an Aspiring Grape" really means. Let me start with a little history. I happen to have the privilege of sitting under excellent teaching at my church each week. My pastor is very gifted in the way that he communicates. He will often say, "The ground is level at the foot of the cross." This makes the ground feel quite level in our Worship Center as a result. Thoughts and Scripture are conveyed clearly and effectively without judgement or apprehension. With confidence and boldness, we approach the throne of grace each week to learn more about this great God that we cannot fathom.
One of the more recent principles proposed to our church family has been the concept of becoming a grape versus remaining a marble. Within the body of Christ, we seem to have both. Marbles are wonderful, smooth, shiney, colorful objects, but they have no potency, they are cold, hard and they have no attributes that can mix with any of the grapes; at the core, they are really nothing. A grape, over time, becomes very soft, somewhat pliable, the inside begins to come out and mixes with the contents from within the other grapes. A grape gives off a strong scent after a while, which tells everyone exactly what it is and possibly even where it came from before they are able to see it.
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples (or grapes!), if you love one another.”- John 13:34-35 We as Christians can be hard and cold, or soft and potent. That is the choice. You must select which it will be for it can never be both. "No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money." - Matthew 6:23-25 It is a matter of deciding who you want to be as you grow up in Christ. Even though we are described as being "branches" in the Bible, we have clear direction as to the nature of the fruit we bare. Is your fruit spoiled? Time to take up that cross! Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." - Matthew 16:23-25
I recently was involved in an auto accident. You would be surprised at how much you actually think about as you are waiting for a Ford F-150 to plow into your '87 Escort. How cool (and surreal) to be able to say, "I didn't think I would die this way, Lord, but I'm okay with it. I'm ready," and to actually be confident and at peace in this realization. I had a brief hospital stay and was ecstatic when my pastor visited me. He refers to himself as "too little butter over too much bread." In the midst of his crises with church business ordeals, family life, quiet time with the Lord and just trying to find five minutes to brush his teeth, he still made this time for me. He reminded me that when you are faced with life's challenges, it is the grapes that come forth....not the marbles. It is the grapes who call you to see how you are doing, who visit you, who send you cards, who pray for you.....they do it all. The juices begin to mingle and flow and you realize that the grapes are a full service operation. I want to be a grape! The grapes remind us of the vine (Christ). Sending His Son to die in my place, only to repeatedly redeem, protect and restore me again and again, Christ is a full service operation; why would He even care about me after His initial sacrifice? I cannot possibly scratch the surface of grateful. I am reminded of a song with the following lyrics, "You [Christ] saved me once, You save me still." He still works. There is a vast difference between believing and knowing something. I know that my Redeemer lives because He's still working on this grape!
- Selah















