Miracle Maker

We all have areas in our lives that only the Father can heal.  Most all of us have some situation that calls for a divine intervention and healing by the hand of the Miracle Maker.  No matter the smile one might wear, and no matter how well put together a person may appear, there is some need, some where that will only be met by Him.

Sometimes it takes a stirring of the waters to put me in a place where the Father can do His work without my constant interference.  It is then and it is there that I recognize that only He can fix things right and fix things wholly.

“I'm waiting here for my life to change,
When the waters stir You can rearrange me.
Just one touch is all I need, I've nothing much but the wounds I feel,
I've come to find the hand of the miracle man.”

Sometimes all I have to offer are the wounds and the hurts that life seems to love to dole out, yet I come knowing He is all I need. It is His touch on any situation that brings healing and restoration.  It is a place of humble humility, recognizing He is the only source of hope and healing. To know that access to the very throne room is mine, is overwhelming.
I found myself watching the rains fall on the water at the lake today and I thought how His healing rain falls on my soul. It moves things around, rearranging, flooding and bringing life giving water to areas that are starved for the oxygen of His spirit.  And that’s when the healing begins, when He takes control. I go from looking for the hand of the Miracle Man to standing with the faith of my Miracle Maker…

The Miracle Maker

I'm waiting here for my life to change,

When the waters stir You can rearrange me.

Just one touch is all I need,

I've nothing much but the wounds I feel,

I've come to find the hand of the miracle man.

Holy, You are holy,

Who was and is and is to come.

Holy, You are holy,

Saviour, healer,

I'm standing at the feet of the miracle maker.

I'm holding on, with Your life in mine,

Living water's come,

And You've rearranged me.

You are holy, You are holy,

Who was and is and is to come.

Holy, You are holy,

Saviour, healer,

I'm staring in the face of the miracle maker.

Holy, You are holy,

Who was and is and is to come.

Jesus, precious Jesus,

Thank you, Saviour,

I'm walking in the shoes of my miracle maker.

Holy, You are holy,

Who was and is and is to come.

Jesus, precious Jesus,

Thank you, Saviour,

I'm standing with the faith of a miracle maker.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd7TtJiuNqE

Teachable Moments

Pondering life and human nature; at times I fail others. At times others fail me. I’ve given this a bit of thought lately. When the soul is hurt, there is a personal choice to be made. That choice defines whether I will be chiseled away at or if I choose to let a situation be a catalyst to a better me. Hurt can easily turn to anger.  Anger if not guarded, can easily turn into a grudge. Grudges simply do one thing and that is turn into poison for the body, mind and spirit. It’s truly a battlefield in the mind and heart. Not holding a grudge isn’t always the easy choice but it’s the right choice. Hurtful times can become teachable moments. Teachable moments add wisdom,  the kind of wisdom that comes with living life through its ups and downs  I see that more clearly the more the years roll by. When the ugly side of human nature rears its head, I’m reminded to talk to my Father. With no doubt, there isn’t a situation I will ever face, that He didn’t face before me. I find myself asking: “I know there has to be a lesson in here somewhere. What are You trying to teach me?” Lately, I’m certain I’m being reminded how I should treat others. I can take those teachable moments and let it sink in to try to never let my behavior or my words make another have to choose: Anger, or teachable moment?  For myself, I’ll try to look at those who cross my path, who dish out hurt and accept this teachable moment is showing me exactly the type of person I cannot be, if I wish to honor Him.

In the Heart of the Thicket-A Bucket List Moment

Mark another one off my Bucket List. The forest floor below the towering pines offers a padding or bed, if you will, of pine needles so thick that even in thirty degree weather, one will not feel the cold that has firmly gripped the ground. It's a reminder of the days of childhood long since faded off into the mist of adulthood oblivion. Today was that day. 

How dreamy the moment is to lie on this bed of pine needles. The minute my head sank into their cushiony depths, the scent of pine wafted up and became an aroma that not only could put one almost to sleep but teased the nostrils with the tantalizing scent of nature at its purest. A pine thicket has a smell all its own. And oh the sounds one will hear here, as the trees blow gently in the wind, allowing the trunks to sing their own melody. Nature's violin. I've always loved to stop to listen as the trees cross trunks and branches to make their own stanza to the bow and the break of the breeze. This is a dreamy place. To lie on one's back and look up through the swaying canopy of green, the blue of the sky transforms into an image of topaz mixing with emeralds! Maybe I'm a hair on the dramatic side but this is the way my mind sees nature in all her glory.  

I lay there and just tried to absorb it all. It's a place in time, I would like to stop still and just stay there. Stay there and hide from all worries and all care. There's a magical quality to the dimness of the thicket, especially when you look beyond the towering trunks to the outer edges. The hues of color seem to come alive and wake the senses! 

The soul is not the only thing that will find shelter in such a place. If you sit quietly, and long enough, you will see others who find solace in the shelter of the pine thicket. Deer are in abundance here. Some resting, some munching on a patch of grass here and there and some simply meandering about with their fellow deermates. In the trees one can hear the call of the red-bellied woodpeckers. Shortly one will begin to hear the persistent sound of beak on wood as the red-belly searches out her lunch.

It's in the magic of the thicket that you will see the wonder of nature and so much that she has to offer. If you're quiet enough and wait long enough, the rewards of visiting here are simply too much for words. I invite you, find a thicket and let time slow down to a crawl. You might just come out of here feeling like you have a new lease on life.

Fifty Years and More

The following is Taylor's final speech for her speech class. There is no doubt the love and the respect my girl has for her Mimi and Papa has no limits. This is just a glimpse into the heritage these two have sewn into their family.
                     
  Today we are celebrating a bond that two very special people have held together for fifty years. These special people are my grandparents. These two people have been inspirational to many people’s lives. They have been outstanding examples of people who know what it means to live and what it means to love.

 

            I have looked up to these two people my entire life. They have shown me as well as many others what it means to love one another. During their marriage they have continually treated each other with utmost respect and loyalty. These are the ingredients to a successful marriage. Every marriage has its downtimes, then is when we see just how strong a bond between two people is. They have proven that their bond cannot be broken, it can withstand anything. They have stood beside each other through thick and thin. They have shown us that sometimes it is better to fix something when it is broken rather than throwing it away. They have maintained a happy and healthy marriage by doing so.

They have also shown how to love others besides themselves. Anyone who knows them will find that they will do absolutely anything to lend a helping hand. They are the first to show up and the last to leave. They are the type of people who would give the shirt right off of their backs to someone without a second thought. They have been examples of what it means to be selfless.

            Spiritually they continue to grow daily in their beliefs and have made it the rock of their marriage. They stand firm on what they believe and have not let anyone ever stray them. They live solely by what they believe and have proven to me as well as many others that it is not as complicated as it seems. I have full respect for their beliefs for the simple reason that they do not push their beliefs on anyone. They do not need to, what they believe is conveyed within their day to day actions. Anyone that is around them for even a short time will see it.

            My grandparents have always inspired me to become more than I already am. They have always worked hard and fully earned what they have been given. They are always grateful and carry themselves with dignity. They have been perfect examples of what a gentlemen and a lady should be, from how they talk to how they walk, sit, and stand.

            In my honest opinion, I believe these people have lived the most close to perfect lives possible. I look at them as if they hold all of the wisdom in the world. They are true inspiration. How they have lived and carried themselves is why they are who and where they are today. This is for all of their years they have spent together and to the more that will come. 

                                                                                                                                        

Thanksgiving Of The Soul

In the dark stands a row of bicycles chained to iron railing. Water drops from the rain pelting down, run rivets across the frames and onto the ground.  Men, women and children, file into the chapel to hear a Thanksgiving message. Here, the décor is clean, pleasant and simple. Inviting.  In this chapel, you hope enough folks file in so that you won’t even have a seat.  

Here, in this chapel, you won’t sit down next to someone and wonder "What is the brand of that tantalizing cologne?" Here, your nostrils will come alive to the scent of humanity.  Folks are vocal and voices of “Amen!” can be heard. The rafters ring with “I’ll Fly Away” and the solemnity of “Amazing Grace My Chains are Gone” drifts into the city streets. In this chapel, a soul finds rest and receives a message of hope, simply stated, and presented with such clarity it will stop you in your tracks. Here, in this chapel, I feel sure my Father walks the isles with a kind smile, knowing, someone has gathered His sheep.

At night’s end, folks shuffle out, into the rain and return whence they came. Some leave on foot, and some leave on bike. The rain continues to pelt. The cold and the wet you can feel to the bone. But, there’s warmth here, that outdoes the cold. They don't leave the same. They came hungry and they came cold. Here, nourishment is offered for body and for soul.

He said to him the third time, “Shim‛on, son of Yonah, do you love Me?” Kĕpha was sad because He said to him the third time, “Do you love Me?” And he said to Him, “Master, You know all, You know that I love You.” יהושע said to him, “Feed My sheep.-John 21:17

"Come Play in the Rain With Me"

My cell phone vibrates. On the line is my boy. A sheepish sounding voice raised the question, "Mom, will you come play in the rain with me?" It's dark, it's cold. The first day or I might should say, night of February, and my son, wants me to play in the rain with him. This wasn’t normal. Had I been a prude, had I reasoned why I shouldn't (I've been sick, a lot lately, and I can't seem to feel 100%, ever it seems like) I might have missed one of the best nights of my life...but instead, I gave him an "Alright, Codeman, I'll play in the rain with you."

And then I realized I was smiling. See at fourteen, almost fifteen, my boy isn’t always concerned with doing things with me. His is a world of music, friends and skating. Sometimes it seems hard to get into that world with him. But for a time, it was him, me, the sound of raindrops pelting on our hoods, squishy footsteps, and the sound of his voice, sharing the things that are going on his world. Not a lot needed to be said on my part. This was one of those, “I know I’m here to listen not advise” times. (Well, I didn’t stay totally quiet...lol :)

Growing up is hard. Sometimes I forget, amidst the dirty clothes, the dirty dishes, and the gruff attitude, is my boy, doing his best to find his way. And while he is sorting out the good from the bad, learning to deal with the pain that comes with experiences derived from growing up, learning his life lessons, every now and then, all jumbled together, I get a glimpse a little boy playing with cars in the dirt and a glimpse of the man he is becoming.

So the next time I hear, “Will you come play in the rain with me?” without a second thought, I’ll reach for my raincoat and walk out the door...

SEASONS

Seasons.

I've been thinking a lot about seasons lately. Whether it's because of the unusually wet and cold winter we're having, mixed with so many people making their desire for greener pastures known, or simply because I feel like I'm at a seasonal change in my own life, I'm not completely sure. I'm searching but I'm also trying to be still, be quiet and listen for His direction.

~And he changes the times and the seasons: he removes kings, and sets up kings: he gives wisdom to the wise, and knowledge to them that know understanding: (Daniel 2:21 AKJV)

~To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 AKJV)

One thing I am certain, my path has crossed with people that will forever have changed me and anchored into my soul that there are lives waiting; waiting for someone to be the hands and feet of Jesus to them. I rest with certainty that Jesus was clear to Peter when three times He instructed him to "feed my sheep" even to the end of leaving the ninety and nine to search for the "one". The "one" who may be waiting for his or her season; whether a season to receive the planting of seed, a season for bloom or a season for harvest. The "one" who is "one" in the sea of souls that make up The Great Commission.

I know that there are lessons I've learned, and verses that have burned into my heart over and over again through the last month or so. So for now, I will wait and listen for the voice that I've learned to recognize, and trust that I'll be sensitive enough to see when a new season has begun.

Play'n in the Dirt Again...

It's spring. I can feel it to the literal sense of "feeling it in my bones." I'm antsy, I'm pacing and I can't stand being inside the house. I "need" to play in the dirt again. There's something about putting my hands in the soil. It never fails to renew in me the magnificence of nature and God's creation. It's healing to the soul...simply put.

So...

It's garden time. In a few days we will see the familiar sight of Daddy on his red tractor turning up the field. We'll smell the scent of the wild onions, the scent of fresh turned soil and experience spring at it's best.

To plant a garden, that will bear fruit, first the soil has to be turned. There's a reason for turning the ground upside down. The process takes the grass and the weeds (things one definitely doesn't want in the garden) and turns them upside down and inside out, leaving the scraggly roots sticking up and around like tiny twigs in the dirt. Now, the root, in my opinion, most of the time is the ugliest part of a plant. Anyway, by exposing the roots to the sun, the gardener kills the plant. A couple of days later, the tilling happens all over again, or it will if the gardener knows what he is doing. Mixed in with the second tilling, around here often comes the unmistable aroma of manure...Dad is famous for that! And we are just as famous for letting it be known we pray for a south-westerly wind, to blow across Mom and Dad's side, not ours :) Now, comes the back breaking work; getting the weeds out of the soil. It's a matter of shake, rattle and throw. Time consuming, but still, it has to be done. Finally, when the dirt is fine and crumbles through the fingers, the gardener knows he has earth he can work with. And we are blessed. The dirt here is dark and rich, great for a garden! So, hoe the row, drop the seed, scatter the fertlizer...Mark the rows, and wait. Wait, for the seeds that were planted to sprout and stick their heads out of the ground. Green shoots that will produce food that will go on all of our tables for the next few months.

I feel like that's what God sometimes has to do with me. Till me, turn me, and get the ugly upside down, while the Son looks on and cultivates out, what isn't fruit producing. Shake me, rattle me, and throw the useless parts away, so that hopefully, what's left, will yield more to His will, and produce something that will be used for Him.

For now..I'm heading to Lavender Mtn to get a fix...

Lock Down, Lock In, Lock Out...

Unraveling, like a blanket, when a string is pulled, and pulled, and pulled. This person wants this. That person wants that, and I'm needed for this and then needed for that. I feel like I've been pulled until there might be nothing but a shred left. Finally, together, Keith and I said, "Enough." It seems like lately it has been one event after another. Every weekday is spoken for, of course. But the calendar is showing every weekend being gobbled up like some hungry bear fresh out of hibernation seeking his first spring meal. So, we decided to pull things back a little. After all, where does the family fall, when schedules are so go, go, go and there is no downtime?

Yesterday, was, in my mind, "Stolen Family Moments Day". It was lock down, lock in and lock out. It was nice, really nice. Keith and I started out the day just the two of us. In this house, that is a rarity. By afternoon, hunger ruled the day and the ribs we had marinating were destined to find their way to the grill. That in itself became a memory haha. I got the bright idea to heat the charcoal the hard way, and took the pioneer woman route. I spent the next hour and a half feeding kindling to the charcoal warmer...it was slow go and not my best of moves lol, but finally it was hot enough to grill on. Wouldn't you know it? Just as soon as the charcoal was finally ready, the skies turned loose and raindrops as big as quarters began pounding on our heads. Keith was yelling "Close the grill! We'll cook after it's over!" I, on the other hand, had nursed that charcoal and wasn't giving up. No sir, no way. So, in the middle of the rain, the lightening and the hail(Keith declared it was hailing), I pretty much refused to budge until those ribs were all inside Smokey Joe and on their way to becoming a meal! Now, how's that for romance? Aha...grilling together in the rain..with one spouse convinced the other had a death wish...In my defense, those ribs were the best we've ever grilled, hands down!

The day was a good one, each idea of fun lead to another. We went fishing down at the creek, walked in the woods, and decided on next weekend's project. That project is a result of male ego gone awry...It seems my Dad's creek bank looks better than ours...so Keith has to compete and play catch up lol. I'm sorry but if you'd been there, you'd be laughing too :) In his defense...we do have to get it done or the snakes will lurk and chomp on our ankles come summer!

I'm not sure how exactly but I fell asleep and woke up to the smell of chocolate cake baking. Taylor and her daddy pulled that one off...and even the mess they left was worth it, because that cake was like, the ultimate in chocolate! That of course, was to prep Mom for the whooping I was fixing to take in Monopoly. I spent a good long while, rotting in jail, unable to purchase anything and continually forfeiting passing "GO" and earning my much needed 2 mil. But oh well, it was for a good cause :) The day finally ended with an onslaught of xBox wars..."Guitar Hero". You'd have to know us to know that is what we sometimes call fun around here...

It's not often the family pulls it all back and just spends that good ole quality time together. For yesterday, I am thankful! And I'm very thankful our kids didn't even buck at the idea. Yes, they are great kids indeed! Now, for next Saturday? I'll be getting the Icy Hot ready because Keith has plans for us to be up early and cleaning out the woods most of the day. Hard work, necessary, but fun too! Hopefully we'll end it with a HUGE bonfire and weenie roast to reward our efforts! And if I'm lucky, maybe somebody will go canoeing with me!

There's Mud in My Mud Boots!

Yesterday was sunny, 70 degrees, and the irresistable urge to be outdoors won over everything else. The kids had found this "cool" place over the weekend, just north of the house. You know, it's one of those, go thru the woods, cross the neighbors yard, follow the creek, treks that I wasn't going to stop hearing about until I let them show me for themselves. So, here we go...And laugh if you want to...t-shirt, hiking shorts, and mud boots up to my knees. You know the ones, the black rubber ones. I had no idea we were going to end up on the side of Martha Berry Hwy or I would have re-thunk that look hahaha. I'm thinking, "I'm ready for this, outdoors, bring it on!" Of course, I'm never as ready as I think I am. There were inclines, and mixed with boots that had no grip, I spent too much time trying to figure out how to get up this and get down that without riding it out on my behind. And the shorts were a really dumb idea because the briars left me looking like I danced with a mountain lion. But, I'm not one to give up, or let my kids out-do me so I find myself tromping across streams, up hills, over mounds of brush, and into a tunnel, full of mud and water, and of a height that even my ridiculously short stature had to bend over to go thru. It wasn't long before I felt it. The mud boots had cracks in them. In comes the cold water, and the mud. Of course I was raising a rucous. I've never grasped the concept of being quiet, and the tunnel made for a pretty good magnified echo affect of my discomfort lol...
The fun though, outweighed the uncomfortableness, and before long, I didn't really notice the water and the mud squishing around my feet. Back through the tunnel, wack!!...nearly busted my head off a drop down, and up the hill to the top of an old train trussel. The kids and I were having a blast. It was a good day for sure! We backtrack to the creek and decide to see who can get to the rocks out in the water without overflowing the top of their boots. Water over the top meant "epic fail" and a definite loser. Taylor and Cody make it and of course began to taunt me. They know how clumsy I am so they were hoping, I'm sure, for some show of mom falling off the log and into the water like a turtle on it's back or something. But ha! I made it. Although when I stepped into the creek water, the cold once again, rushed into the boots, and this water was much colder than the water before. Oh well, it was all for the sake of a great afternoon, so I let it go and kept on playing, and I'm glad that I did. It seems like the days blend into each other too often, and sometimes I feel like I don't make as many memories with my kids as I should. From there, we went on to explore the rocks that jut out into the creek. It's an awesome place of huge rocks full of little caves that so many different critters could be hiding in. It brought back memories from my own childhood of exploring those very same rocks with my dad and my aunt. I was thankful for a day of sun and a day of fun, I wouldn't trade that spot in time for anything, really.

I was just thinking back over yesterday, and it hit me, that lives can be kind of like those mud boots. They "looked" functional. When I put them on, they "felt" functional, but when I stepped into the muck, and the water, there were cracks in them that let in what I would have preferred, had stayed out. Kind of like things that I may not realize can creep into my life, that need to stay out. And just like I got used to the feeling of the mud and the water, and didn't notice it after a few minutes; the same goes for those other things that creep in. I didn't notice the water in the boots after a while, until I stepped in "colder" water. That's almost like what happens to us when we allow for things, that we shouldn't, and get de-sensitized, and eventually don't pay attention to the Holy Spirit's nudging, until we step in a little deeper and feel Him again, and the process repeats itself. I got used to the colder water, just like I got used to the mud and water the first time.

I think the wisest choice would be to do two things. Number one: Keep the boots or "life" maintained and the cracks and holes in good repair so that the things that shouldn't be in, stay out. And, number two: when I find myself stepping into something that I shouldn't, at the first nudging of the Holy Spirit, pull back and repair the cracks in my life before moving forward.

So many times, life requires us to walk throught the muck. There may be no way around it, over it or under it. We just need to make certain that we are prepared, protected and covered while we go through it.

That's My Boy...14

Monday will mark fourteen years ago that we were blessed with a baby boy. We weren't expecting him, at all. He was predicted to be a girl. So much so that there was only one boy outfit period in all that we had. I was so shocked when the doctor announced he was a boy, I knocked the sterile drapes down because I didn't believe him! I wondered what on earth I was going to do with a little boy. I was used to bows and dresses and dolls. Girl stuff was what I had known since Taylor was born. I shouldn't have worried though because I was a tree climbing, frog gigging, lizard hunting, fish catching little tomboy myself. But there we were, and there we held, the little boy who took us by storm in the delivery room that day...he has continued to be a never ending source of entertainment and at times button pushing to the max, adventure. That little boy of mine just happens to be a lot like his mom. Don't let him know I said that though, or the eyerolling and denials will commence on the spot. He definitely has his mom's stubbornness, and his mom's ability to contribute more vocabulary words daily than surrounding ears are equipped to absorb. And yes, like his mom, he seems to always strive to have the last word. It's been an amazing thing to watch him grow from a little blond haired Tonka, Lego, helicopter loving youngster into the teen who loves nothing better than to whip everyone around him in Xbox games. He can spend hours proving his worth against any competitor who dares to enter his domain. Very few walk away in triumph, after an encounter with him. He welds a pretty nasty guitar in Guitar Hero too, although his sister has him on that one! Along with the normal teenage striving for independence, has also arrived the sometimes sullen, grumpy for no reason, I'm mad at the world attitude we all as parents dread. In and out of the normal ups and downs are some tear jerker episodes, and then, there are times that make me say..."Hey! That boy right there? That's my boy!" See, it seems sometimes, God opens the window just a little, and I see the character that is developing inside him. For a time it may be hidden by his longer hair and clothing that we seem to fight and fight over...but it's in there. And it's growing, day by day. One thing I'm finding out, is that this boy, is quickly growing into a young man. And some of the observations that come out of him every now and then astound me.

Most all of us have been affected by the economy, in some way or another. One of the things Keith and I decided was that we needed to become better stewards of the money that comes into the household. This brought on some changes. Some changes were forced by the economy and some we felt would just form better habits for us and for our children. We aren't as quick, to hand out money as we used to be. Now, our kids have to think about the different things coming up and decide which things they are most interested in doing. Sometimes they choose things like youth trips with the church, and sometimes they decide on things that involve other groups of friends. They know, though, that when they have earned the money for something, that's it and they may have to sit some other things out once their money is spent. Sometimes (it's the mom in me) I would like to do more for them. This, brings me to the moment I want to share with you. Cody and I were discussing what he'd like to do for his birthday. He had three things he would really like to do and/or have. I told him I really would like to do every one of those things, but because of different reasons, mainly financial obligations coming up, he would have to choose one idea. His attitude really surprised me. He made his choice and he seems pretty happy with it. Then, my fourteen year old boy looked at me and said "Mom, I'm okay with the ten or twenty you and dad give me every now and then. I think, that if you guys handed me money all the time, I think that I would have a really rotten attitude." I guess that really struck me as awesome coming from him because Keith and I don't hand either one of the kids a ten or a twenty very often. They really have learned ways to stretch their money. It's really more of a priviledge and definitely a treat to even have the chance to earn it. Just to hear that come from Cody, was like a window opened for just a moment, letting me see how this boy really looks at things. Would he love to do everything every friend of his does? Sure he would! And I'm sure sometimes, he is disappointed to sit some things out. But we've started sticking with, when the spending money is gone, it is gone...no if's, and's or but's about it.

Anyway, this is my moment to have more than a little pride in my son, and share a glimpse of the man he is one day going to be...I"m proud of him (most of the time :) longer hair, funny faces, weird sayings, skinny jeans and all....He is my youngest; he is my baby (I hope he doesn't read that or I'm in so much trouble)...Yes,that boy is MINE! I will enjoy this feeling today...for tomorrow I'm sure I will be pulling my hair out!! Lol...

A friend posted this...it fits the mood I've felt about the ups and downs of being a parent...get your kleenex ready...

Snow Day February 12, 2010

Finally, a snowfall special enough to write home about! This deluge of white was enjoyed through the lense of the camera, rolled in, rolled up, thrown around, sculpted into the strangest of forms and last but not least, it was eaten as snowcream. This blanket of white transformed our dreary winter world into a wonderland of white...awe inspiring in beauty that only God could create...and thoroughly enjoyed by adults and kids alike...Relished for a moment, and remembered for a lifetime...

The Ants Came Marching...

The ants came marching one by one, hoorah, hoorah! Well no hoorah but they are marching and they are in the house. For those of you who know me, you know that ants adore me...something about the body chemistry I guess, but they seek me out...wherever I am. So yes, I am disturbed. They move from place to place, upstairs and down...We spray for them and the survivors relocate. Today however, I found them coming out of the wall by the fireplace and traveling under the track in our shower...yes the walls back up to each other. I attacked them with shampoo, bleach, air freshener and lysol because I am out of ant spray...It has been entertaining and I've done nothing but toy with them and only destroyed a few. And then I remembered. FIRE ANT KILLER! So outside I go and bring it in. I put some on a square of foil and put it by the trail running on the hearth. It was like I hung out a neon sign that read "POISON!" And not a one took even a taste. So I got some syrup and mixed it in with the bait. I made sure just a little of the syrup touched the very edge of the trail and right behind that, yep, was the poison. A couple of ants went by...nothing...Then one little ant stopped. He tasted. I guess he sent out his little ant signal bc slowly all his little buddies were joining him...tasting. That one ant had the power within himself to take out his entire colony...or whats left of them. At least that is my hope!

So I got to thinking about what I had done, and the result of it. Taylor was in the recliner so I called her over and told her my thoughts. I'm a little disturbed that in the next few sentences I will compare myself to satan, but oh well...hopefully the lesson out-weighs the comparison lol. What I was thinking was this: What I did with those ants is so similar to how satan tries to come against us. He puts his poison [[sin]] right there in our path. His hope is to steal, to kill and to destroy. So many times we see that sin for what it is and steer clear of it, maybe even for a long time. So he tries a little harder and he gets a little smarter...and somehow makes that sin look sooooo good. Until finally, if we keep playing around it, it's like the urge to taste...just a little, overcomes the conviction of what is right and wrong. And BAM! Before you know it there we sit...neck deep in it and many times we find ourselves in that spot with people who trusted us sitting right there along side of us just like that ant. Of course, the other side to this would be to turn those temptations over to God and let HIM give us the strength to deal with our weaknesses. Too bad that little ant didn't have that option...

I told Taylor there's a pretty good lesson to be learned from this. Poison is poison no matter how good it looks, and no matter how good it tastes. Play with it...you are dead. It's the same way with sin. Sin is Sin, no matter how good it looks...it's still sin.

Prodigal

Luke 15: 11-24
And he said, “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.
“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.



Today...the first day of 2010...I bow to my knees and claim this will be the year of my prodigal.

Christmas Night Hike

Last night the kids...Taylor, Evan, Cody and Taylor R went on a "Christmas Night Hike." They were following the creek bank and went out on Berry Wildlife Preserve where they ran into some low areas with standing water and tried to work their way around them. It didn't take long before the kids were turned around with no sense of direction and the temps were dropping. Thank goodness for cellphones...kind of like our direct line to God...they can reach Mom anytime, anywhere! So Keith and I set out to bring our lost kids home. We went over to the Texas Valley side of the reserve armed with a hiking stick, cell phone and a whistle. The plan was for them stay put for the moment and listen for the whistle. They had said they could barely hear when a car would every little while cross the old metal bridge, but not often enough to be able to follow the sound. So our plan was to blow the whistle and beat on the bridge to bring the kids out. We blew that whistle and made sure by cell phone the kids could hear us. First though, we made sure their right shoulders were lined up with the moon...the same as me and Keith (for direction.) Then we kept blowing that whistle and we beat on that bridge...until we could tell the kids were following the sound and making there way to safety. It took a long time...and it took them crossing through some cold, deep and dark, muddy waters...but eventually, they were in our car, half-frozen but safely heading home.

This kind of made me think about the lengths God sometimes has to go thru to guide us back to Him, when we step off His path. Sometimes we don't even realize until it's too late that we are "lost." And then we have to get still so we can hear His voice. I wonder if He ever laughs at the craziness that we, His kids get into? I know I did last night with mine. But I also know I was really relieved when we finally heard the voices of the kids, all-be-it, very distant. I also know that I couldn't wait for them to be back in my sight and safe in my home. I'm betting God feels the same with His children, probably even more so.

Where are the footsteps going...

I was taught from a young age...to give respect where respect is due. That meant to render respect to my parents, my elders, my teachers, my bosses, my pastor, my sister, my husband and now even my children. But the most important area of respect I was taught was to give respect and honor to God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. I was taught and have taught my children; place nothing on top of the Bible...it is to be treated with respect and honor. Also that God's name should only be used in reverence...as a witnessing tool...to give honor to...or in prayer. The same goes for the name of Jesus and for the Holy Spirit. It seems society in general has been stripped of that ideology. Not only does disrespect seem to be prevailant in secular areas but I am ashamed to say, it is finding it's way into our churches. And even scarier to me is the realization that the respect for God's name and respect for the gifts of the Holy Spirit are even being put into a comedic arena by some and we simply should know better. If we as adults don't sew the seeds of respect where is this younger generation going to learn it? Kids look to adults for the example that they should follow. There are always eyes watching...and learning. To see someone...any one...do anything that makes fun of God, Jesus or any kind of worship...Well that just makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I know that God is a God of mercy...I don't believe He is sitting there waiting to strike us down for every little mistake...nor do I believe He is without humor. He created me so I know He has that! But I have to believe...that if He thought it important enough to make it one of THE TEN COMMANDMENTS...then He meant business when He said "Thou shalt not take the name, of the Lord thy God in vain." Just a thought...Just thinking about the footsteps of my walk...and where they will lead for other feet to follow in...

Empty Promises

I'm wondering if, by the end of my stint as a mom of teenagers, I will have any hair left on my head? It seems as if every new day introduces, along with its joys, it's share of disappointments too. And so I began to wonder...do I, as a one of God's children leave Him with the same feeling? Does He ever wonder..."By the time I get her where I want her...Will we be on the other side of eternity?" How many times lately have one of my children used something I want to see them do, as a bargaining chip, for something they want to get out of me? Something like, "But Mom, I will clean the whole basement tomorrow night...If you will just say yes and let me go to my friend's house to spend the night." And when tomorrow night rolls around...the boy, who was so full of promises the night before, walks in the door and collapses on the couch...exhausted from cavorting around with his buddy all over town...and promptly...falls asleep. I'm left holding a handful of empty promises. I know how disappointed I feel when I realize that I gave and got nothing in return. So I outsmart the child and begin to require more of him BEFORE I give the reward...Then, I began to think...How many times have I promised God that I would do better? Or begged Him for an answer to prayer and followed that with "God I will do anything!" And then He answers and over time I forget the promises I made? How many times have I told Him I would prioritize things and put His desires for me above those I have for myself? And how many times, later...do I realize that I am still putting Him on the backburner...and leaving Him standing there with a handful of broken promises...from me? I can only imagine the hurt that I feel, must be minimal compared to the hurt He feels...To even compare a dirty room...or unfinished school work to the magnitude of what God did for me is pretty much incomparable ...God's bargaining chip was so much more...The life of His only Son...Rejected...Ridiculed...and Crucified...so I know the pain He must feel from my disappointments must be magnified to incomprehensible proportions. And yet, His mercies are new every morning. I stumble; He picks me up. I fail Him; He holds me fast...and once again, I will try to remember...not to leave my Father holding a handful of empty promises.