Right Where We Are

What if God called fishermen
Because they understood the wind
The waves, the tides and the life within

So He could walk upon those waves
Fill their nets on a hopeless day
And calm the storms to teach them faith

What if God calls each of us
Right where we are to learn to trust
That WHO WE ARE IS WHO HE LOVES

And if we give Him all we do
And share His love with others who
Need to know He loves them too

He’ll fill our nets and calm our storms
Teach us to stand and right our wrongs
Because we all to Him belong

No Escape

Insidious they stalk your life

Asking you to shed some light

Their only purpose to fill the need

For the knowledge that sets you free

Some will tease and tickle you

Their purpose only to amuse

Others may just change your life

When all their pieces fit just right

They’re always there to interfere

Pushing you to make things clear

You can’t ignore, avoid or shun

The power of your own questions

Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you

                                                                                                                           Matthew 7:7 (KJV)

Unforgettable Love

My Mom is a great cook, which she would probably deny, but it’s the truth.  That is why it is so odd that one of our family’s holiday traditions is to tease her about burning the rolls.

Her holiday meals always looked and tasted fantastic.  One Thanksgiving she was putting the last dish on the table when someone said that they smelled something burning.  It was the rolls.  She had put them in the oven while she put the finishing touches on the serving platters and forgot about them.  That can happen to anyone and you might think us cruel to never let her forget one simple mistake.  The problem was that for a few years in row she repeated the same mistake which became just too tempting to ignore and the teasing became a holiday tradition.

Knowing it was done in love she took it with grace and patience.  She could afford to be patient, as all parents can, knowing that eventually her children would be the ones serving the holiday meal and that great moment would dawn when they would appreciate all the effort and love that went into it.  I won’t name names but I can remember a few holiday meals that included mistakes by other members of the family that rivaled hers. If they had been repeated I am sure the burnt rolls would have been forgotten.

How gracious and patient our Heavenly Father is to wait for us recognize our sins.  It doesn’t matter what we’ve done or even that we have made the same mistakes over and over again.  He waits for us to ask His forgiveness and accept the effort and love that went into the sacrifice of His Son Jesus, so that we will always know we are loved even when we burn the rolls.

Hope in Deep Waters

We were indoctrinated at an early age.  We sat on blankets with our bamboo poles lying next to us, dangling the tips over the top of the seawall.  The line went straight down to the bobber so that the tiny tug of the child size sunfish or perch would bend the thin tip of the bamboo.  Eventually we were allowed to stand and use the entire pole to try for Striped Bass or Crappies.  We swung them onto the shore at the end of the long poles while learning to duck the flying catches of others.  Bait was everything from tiny pieces of old lace, minnows, worms and even leeches.  I personally drew the line at leeches even though it threatened my status as a proper fisherman.

 A rite of passage was to own our first rod and reel and learning to cast was as important as learning to swim.  It also allowed us to try for the larger deep water fish like Pike and Catfish.  Along the way we learned to read the river.  When the water was too high or the Carp were spawning in the shallows, the fishing would not be good.  When the May flies appeared or the water was very still the time was right.  The reward for all this was a Sunday afternoon fish fry and the satisfaction of knowing that we had provided the delicious, fresh ingredients.  It didn’t hurt that along the way we learned patience and perseverance, and how to be quiet for long periods of time.

As my life stands right now, I can’t even imagine having the time to sit on a riverbank, pole in hand, letting just the sun dictate my time.  I am also pretty sure that the patience and perseverance I remember having back then might fail me.   But I do know where I can go to find the same kind of peace and timeless contentment.  No matter if life is rushing by or its troubles are multiplying I can “Cast my burdens upon the Lord and he will sustain me…..” (Psalm 55:22 KJV)

The Courage to Be Free & the Freedom to Be Courageous

They had the courage to stand and fight
 For man’s most essential rights
The courage to begin again
Down the untried path of a virgin plan

They weathered the tests and trials unknown
 And continued to work, to build and to grow
 A sanctuary where all could find
 Freedom for hearts and souls and minds

The blood bought freedom that we must maintain
Is the freedom to stand and the courage to change
The things that would find us bound again
When power corrupt our freedoms demand

To believe in what’s right – not from afar
But be willing to fight for who we are
May our freedom give us the courage we need
To honor their lives in word and deed

To stand on our honor, our faith and the truth
May Freedom for all be our lasting pursuit

How Cold Was It

When I am tempted to complain about cold weather I always remember just how cold it can get. On one trip to South Dakota, a few days before Thanksgiving, bitter cold, and sub-zero temperatures had settled in.  I lived in Colorado at the time so it was a short flight on a small jet.  Despite the cold and snow everyone on board was in a holiday mood and the flight was smooth.

                We landed on schedule and as we got up to leave the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.  He thanked us for flying on behalf of the airline and asked for our patience because there would be a slight delay before we could get off the plane.  Everyone settled down again and waited.  It was snowing and blowing outside so we couldn’t see anything but the lights of the terminal windows.  We had taxied in and the plane was right outside the gate so we didn’t understand the delay.  About 20 minutes later the pilot once again asked for our cooperation, explaining that due to the bitter cold, de-icing would be required for our safety.  Most of us had heard of de-icing a plane before a flight but it seemed strange to do it after.

                There were only two more announcements during the hour and half we sat on the plane. Each time the pilot tried to sound encouraging but sounded more and more as though he was talking through clenched teeth. The holiday moods were fading and the less patient were getting ornery.  No one had cell phones back then so the only information we had, came from the pilots short statements.  Finally the doors were opened and we were hit with a blast of icy wind and snow as we made our way down the metal stairs and into the terminal.  Our equally frustrated friends and family explained that it wasn’t the plane they had to de-ice it was the stairs that we had just walked down.  They couldn’t be rolled up to the plane because they were frozen to the ground under several inches of solid ice.  When the normal de-icing chemicals had not freed them, they went to plan B – blow torches and sledge hammers.  We couldn’t complain about that kind of effort and we were truly thankful to everyone who braved the storm to free us.

Silent Memories

I don’t know about anyone else, but during a concert or sporting event when they ask for a moment of silence for someone who has died, I have a hard time quieting my mind. Surrounded by all of the activity and with feelings of anticipation and excitement, it takes almost that long for me to try to focus my thoughts. Silence doesn’t seem to come easy these days.

  When I was growing up there was one day when no music, TV or games were allowed in our house from the time we got up until 3 o’clock in the afternoon.  It was Good Friday.  It was not normal for the four of us kids to be quiet so the day was long and frustrating.  When I got bored I would usually go outside which was my favorite place to be anyway.  Funny thing though, I remember so many Good Fridays when it rained all day.  Mom always said the angels were crying for Jesus. Not long after 3:00 someone would turn on the TV on but not as loud as usual and it seemed like it took a while for things to get back to normal.  

I asked her once why we could turn everything back on at 3:00 and she said that it was because that was the time when it was believed Jesus had died on the cross.  It didn’t make sense to me then that the saddest moment of the day would be the time when the music and games could start again. But I began to understand that when I read what Jesus said on the cross, “It is finished”.  The pain was over and death defeated now all there was to do was to wait for the Glory of Easter.

I wish that I could say that I carried on that tradition for my own children but I really only told them about it.  Now on Good Friday no matter where I am my mind always goes back to the memory of that quiet time and I think about Him because I know that through all His suffering on that day He was thinking about us.

Faithful Waters

One of my earliest childhood memories is of a tiny cottage that sat at the end of the road near our house.  It wasn’t much to look at but I couldn’t wait to visit the neighbors who lived there just so I could get a drink of water from their magic well.  I thought it was magic because the water was always on but it never ran out.

As you got close to cottage you would start to hear the sound of running water coming from the back yard.  It flowed from a small curved pipe that served as a spigot standing in the middle of a crumbling square of cement.  The water rushed out and drained through a metal grate and into a wide pipe in the ground, echoing off the sides as it met the waters deep below.  The Pipe, the grate and even the cement were covered in rusty orange from the iron rich water.  A thick glass beer mug hung from a wire hook on a wooden post nearby.  I remember how hard it was to hold the mug up under the furiously flowing water at just the right angle to capture a cold drink on a hot day.

The water never stopped flowing even during the coldest part of the winter.  It looked as though it had frozen in mid-air as ice reached from the mouth of the pipe to the ground, but you could still hear the sound of the water coming from the hollow center of the frozen flow.  That was over fifty years ago and the last time I took a drive to the old subdivision it was still flowing just as it had when I was a little girl.

When I read about Jesus offering the woman at the well streams of living water I think about that old artesian well.  What He offers is not a slow trickle but a never ending rushing flow so full of love and so powerful that we could never stand under the fullness of it.  It has been there throughout all of the seasons of our lives waiting for us to reach for a drink of His refreshing grace and mercy and it will never run out, because He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.

It's a Cynical World Virginia or All That and A Bag of Chips

           As a single mom Christmas could be a little lean.  The year my daughter turned 5 was no exception.  We were home on Christmas Eve preparing for the extended family’s gathering on Christmas Day.  After we finished baking cookies and wrapping gifts I brought out some snacks which included a bag of potato chips.  We settled down in front of a Christmas movie and reached into the bag.  My fingers touched something that felt like a postcard.  Pulling it out I saw the words, “You are an instant Winner!” written across the top.

I scratched off the silver prize circle expecting to see a free bag of chips or 10% discount written underneath.  To my amazement a one followed by five zeros appeared.  Reading both sides of the ticket and the bag I realized that I had just won a thousand dollars. My daughter had no idea how much money a thousand dollars was but she could tell by my excitement that it was better than a free bag of chips.

  Too excited to keep the new to myself I called my mom and told her what happened.  She said she had gotten those kinds of things before and that I should read the small print because it probably said to mail it in for a chance to win.  I told her that I read everything but she still ended the call by saying that she hoped I was right.  My need to celebrate was not satisfied so I called my sister.  Her reaction was much the same and came with an additional warning about giving out my personal information or sending money.  It was only after I had received the check that everyone seemed willing to rejoice with me.

Knowing something wonderful but not being able to convince others that it is true is an awful feeling.  That’s how I feel about knowing the Lord.  I understand that people don’t want to believe what they cannot see so I have learned that all I can do is try to show his love and serve others in the hope that someday they may see Him in me and join my celebration.

The Secret

                Cactus and sagebrush covered most of our property in Northern Colorado.  So when my husband got a part time job at a garden center I was anxious for him to bring home information about what else we could grow.

Instead, the first thing he brought home was a dozen dead roses. At least they looked dead to me.  The garden center was going to toss them out but his boss thought they could be saved if someone wanted to try. I had no idea how to grow healthy roses let alone roses at death’s door.  My husband said not to worry because his boss told him the secret to beautiful roses was to never feed the dead. I was underwhelmed.  I wanted to know how much water, how much light and how to prepare the soil not learn a gardener’s platitude. Depending on my garden books for information, I planted the roses in front of the house.

                After a few weeks, compared to my garden, the cactus and sagebrush looked lush. I knew my books had failed me so I decided to give his platitude a try.  I pruned gently at first but then staying true to the secret I hacked off every dead cane and dried up leaf.  All that remained were a few short, barely green stems with some ugly thorns on them. My husband was shocked by the carnage when he came home and I felt awful.  He took over watering what was left as though protecting them from me.  Then one morning he called me outside.  Every single one of the plants had stretched out at least an inch or two of green stems with brand new leaflets.  In just a matter of weeks they were healthy and blooming.

                It was years later that I realized the ultimate truth of that platitude. After being widowed and then suffering the death of another marriage through divorce, I felt as though there wasn’t very much life left in me. The pain was like a shadow that silently followed me around.  It grew larger after each new loss or failure in my life as I fed it with regrets, anger, bitterness and fear.  At times it loomed so large that it seemed as though it would consume me. Finally there was only one direction in which I could still see a glimmer of light.  I reached out to God and He began to replace the dead hopes and dreams that clung to my life like the dry leaves of the roses.  I felt new hope growing in me and the bitterness and anger beginning to fade.  If you have suffered loss don’t risk feeding the dead.  He is gentle, He is kind and He wants us to grow and flourish. He will change your life into something beautiful and healthy if you let Him do the pruning.

A Question of Praise

A man asked God how to praise Him in humble adoration and God asked Him these questions:

How would you praise me if you had no voice?
The man answered, I would lift my hands Lord.

How would you praise me if you had no arms?
The man answered, I would fall on my knees Lord.

How would you praise me if you had no legs?
The man answered, I would fall on my face Lord.

Finally, the Lord asked:

How would you praise me if your life was ending?
The man answered, With all my heart and mind and strength Lord.

Begin there, said the Lord and you will praise me with humble adoration.