Last week I was blessed by an invitation out. Out of the bedroom, out of the house, into a restaurant with friends. I've been so grateful the Lord provided energy for it! I'm paying for it now but wouldn't trade a moment of the time with friends.
It was a balmy 77 degrees when we left the house - equivalent to about 65 degrees with humidity. Very comfortable, the air fresh and crisp with just a slight breeze - not our usual hot winds from hades! Jupiter shone down in all it's magnificent glory against the dark blue velvet sky. The man made constellations of planes lined up for the airport also shone down, bright landing lights in a straight procession from whereabouts unknown, sliding down the sky.
On nights like that I always think of how God loves beauty. I'm so grateful He put a capacity to enjoy it in our hearts. The desert can be harsh and very demanding, but in Springtime it is lovely - the hills take on the slight green blush of new growth, the trees begin to flower, bushes branch out, and my roses bloom. (They quit when the temps get above 90) so I enjoy the exuberance of Spring! How God loves us!
Our friends have a gelding named Blackjack - all black, of course, with a lovely white star on his forehead. They had bought him for hardly anything because he was paralyzed by fear. My friend had worked and worked with him to get him used to stuff - like a rope lying on the ground, water puddles, small everyday things - and had helped him enormously. When they found a place that used the horse whisperer techniques they shipped him out. They went to visit him and found him chest deep in a pond, with a small filly as a friend, afraid of nothing and happy as a horse could be. I could only think how wonderful God is to allow a person to discover a way to reach animals like that.
There are areas a little way from here where you can still see wild horses racing across the mesa. The BLM (bureau of land management) thins them a little more each year, selling them off to buyers for small amounts of money,( among whom are folks who kill them for dog food ) It's very controversial here - the pressure is mainly from the cattle owners who also graze their herds on the mesa. They want the horses out so they have more grazing land. The BLM claims not enough people buy them and it's too expensive to feed and care for them in the pens. The heart breaks for these critters who have run with the wind since birth and now face a terrifying gather and confinement in pens. One of the local prisons has lent non-violent offenders to the BLM to gentle and train the horses, usually it takes a year or more to get a horse that is gentle and lead broken. It teaches the men patience and how rewarding it is to work with their hands and hearts. The horses are never returned as unworkable as some of the unbroken ones are, and garners a few more dollars for the govt.
Why am I telling you all this? I've been thinking about how the Israelites are not the only ones who are stiff necked. We are all stiff-necked before He gentles us and gets us lead broken. His patience is amazing - His approach so gentle. He is compassionate and slow to anger, abundant with mercy - and how grateful I am for that mercy! Like a horse afraid of a piece of rope on the ground, we are afraid of what He will ask of us, afraid of what He will have us do. How interesting that the evil one will fill us with fear so often when we face something difficult - instead of trusting our Master to lead us through whatever faces us. It keeps us from resting in Him and seeing His hand right in front of our faces, ready for us to grab and hang onto.
I've been reading in Isaiah lately - how different the earth will be when its rightful Ruler is once again in command, and the earth is renewed -Isaiah 55 :12 says,"You shall go out with joy and be lead forth with peace, and the mountains and the hills will break forth into singing before you, and all the trees of the fields will clap their hands." For a kid raised on Walt Disney it's not hard to imagine that scene! LOL! But it is one more example of the wonder and joy that lie in our future with Him. We have no idea what He has planned - and I don't think singing mountains or clapping trees are beyond his ability to create. Did you know that if you speed up a recording of a humpback singing, it sounds just like a bird chirping? - and both sounds were created for our enjoyment. When you see a robin in Springtime, he's just gotta sing - he can't do anything else. The joy of life can't be held in and expresses itself in song. Young colts and calves have to run and buck and jump - they're so full of the joy of being that your heart leaps with them.
Just so are we who know the Joy of Life in Jesus - there are times when the heart is so full of joy that there is nothing else to do but worship. And sometimes the heart is so full of sorrow that there is nothing else one can do but worship. He is a God whose everlasting arms are always underneath us. He never pulls away because we have fallen - for the zillionth time - He picks us up, washes us off, and sets us back on the narrow road.
This year a total eclipse of the sun, complete with corona, will occur May 20th - and will be visible in all its glory here. The only other eclipse I have seen was only partial, but I remember how the temperature decreased by 20 degrees - and that was in San Diego! I wonder what will happen in the desert heat? I'm so looking fwd to that - we may go over by the Grand Canyon to view it - or the valley of fire here. But it will be an exciting event.
It never ceases to fill me with wonder to look at the desert sky and know that He knows each star by name. He knows each of us by name, too and has placed us just so, exactly where He wants us, including the state of our health. I keep thinking of the time people were looking at the healed blind man and saying, which one sinned, the blind man or the parents (they believed that illness was a sign of God's ill favor) that this illness fell upon him.. Jesus's next words are lovely to me ; He said neither , that this illness was to show the glory of God.
Those words electrify my heart - to think that it is possible that God favored me with this illness as a means to glorify Him in ways no other thing can. What an awesome responsibility! (of course, people may also say it's possible this illness is because of my sins, which are many, but since Jesus paid the penalty for any and all of the sins I would someday commit on the cross before my DNA ever existed, there would be no reason to punish for sins already forgiven.)
And that alone, to me , is a cause for worship. Forgiven sins and a chance to glorify God in ways the AB have no means to comprehend. But what if I'm confined to a single room? I never have chances to tell people what He does for me, ways to make use of this chance.
In answer to that I say, the One Who placed you where you are, in the exact circumstances He has put you in, is glorified every time we raise our eyes and give thanks when some new hard aspect of our CI becomes known and must be dealt with. It is in the gentleness of spirit we can cultivate by appreciating our caregivers and expressing our thanks. It is in not complaining (the English word for murmuring), and being gracious through the pain, and not excusing ourselves from snapping at others because it is a bad day.
I am not saying I am a paragon of virtue here. Every CI knows that bad days seem to come straight from the pit. They are unsettling and energy consuming and it's hard not to groan when you try to move or watch the last tiny drop of your energy and self-control circling the drain (don't you just hate that?) I am not always walking in the Spirit on those days, and my spirit aches at yet another example of my lack of perfection as His child.
But He has taught me that that sin is paid for, and He sees how yet another blatant failure at the narrow way makes me feel; but what He asks of me at such a time is this: get up, dust yourself off, and start again - forgetting the things that are behind and pressing forward instead.
The evil one, of course, wants us to continue looking behind, and, I am convinced, keeps a detailed list of our failures for just that purpose. Things you haven't thought of in years come bustling to the front dressed in red, waving their arms. Every embarrassing one, every cruel thing you've ever said, anything to make us feel unworthy, And he hits it on the head because, of course, we are unworthy. What he doesn't want us to think of is that God doesn't even see our unworthiness - He sees His Son, spotless and pure, He sees His child, stuck in the mud, just waiting for us to reach up and take His offer of help. He's already separated our sin from us as far as the East is from the West,
And so He waits. Waits for us to get up, dust ourselves off, and trust Him to lead us on the path that draws us to Him.
What an Awesome God we serve!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The Soaring Spirit
Isaiah 45:2-3
"I will go before you and make the crooked places straight; I will break in pieces the gates of bronze and cut the bars of iron. I will give you the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that I , the LORD, Who call you by your name, Am the God of Israel."
This spoke to my heart today - for what is chronic illness if not gates of bronze and bars of iron?
This passage was originally addressed to Cyrus, hundreds of years before he was born, and resulted in his giving permission to his Israelite captives to return to Israel and rebuild the temple in Jerusalem.
But the words stood up and waved to me today - the bronze gates and iron bars may be present but the Spirit of the Living God is certainly able to remove them - physically, yes, but more importantly, the shackles of the spirit. Our bodies may be held fast by the parameters of our illnesses - but our spirits need not be, if our faces are lifted to the the One Who calls us by name.
I'm not chirping here in the corner, as if any of this were easy. Those who have been ill for some time know it is not. But captive bodies need not be enslaved in their spirits, even though chronic illness is filled with darkness.
Some days it seems to shroud the sun in the sky, and some days warrant lying in a darkened room, shut away from the busy lives that go on right outside the door; but in the secret places of the heart there are hidden riches - the treasures of darkness.
Superficial relationships with the God of Israel don't cut it when CI takes over your life. And the secret places are secret because there is no way, no words yet invented that can explain the difference to those who have never tasted CI. Many times our illnesses dictate plans and activities - its influence reaches every second of every day.
But inside of that dark imprisonment, there are riches no one else can find - riches that lift the spirit from its cage and send it soaring to the Father's presence. I have found this to be true especially during hard days, when the will must be wrestled into submission, when prayer and praise are done through faith alone - no warm fuzzies here - this is a battle, make no mistake about it.
And then - then His peace comes - not always, but often, when the bruised heart is at rest, when the songs in the night Job speaks of fall gently on the soul, when He calls you by name and reveals Himself as Adonai, as the Great I Am, as the God so personal He whispers your name and sings over you.
The next time the darkness tries to swallow you whole, listen - and wait for His riches to come to you, remembering it takes time for the eyes to get accustomed to the darkness. Pour out before Him the pain, the brokenness, the unfairness you feel - He knows it already anyway, and it cleanses the soul to speak with deeply felt honesty. Bring before Him the self-pity, the sullenness, the hopelessness that sometimes rules the weakened spirit - then wait before Him, trusting Him to touch those places blistered by solitude and touched by the sour taste that being dependent carries in its back pocket.
I pray you will be overwhelmed by treasures, and find the bronze gates and iron bars crumble to dust before you.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
In everything give thanks...2Thess 5:18
We are thankful here that our dear fur ball has had a reprieve and seems to be doing much better. He's a sweet orange striped old man and has begun purring again with just a slight limp.
The emotional turmoil has taken its toll, however, as is usual with my CI. So today after a sleepless night I have treated myself to a trip to Mitford.
For those of you unfamiliar with Jan Karon's series, they are set in Mitford, North Carolina and patterned after the city of Blowing Rock. The first book in the series is At Home In Mitford. I've had the great pleasure of meeting Ms. Karon several times and going to Blowing Rock - and being charmed by the tiny town nestled on a green, forested mountain top.
The books tell the story of an Episcopal priest and the everyday things that he encounters - and are the first books I've ever read where someone actually consults God when facing troubles or being blessed by joy. He speaks of the Holy Spirit as though He were concerned with the smallest details of our lives - which, of course, He is! Every once in awhile I reread the whole series, I highly recommend them.
Today I have been reading In This Mountain, and one section has really spoken to me, bringing me to the Throne in gratitude.
Father Tim, the main character, has been dealt a hard blow. He needs a sermon for the next day and he is spiritually dry. He has struggled with a depression and pain that cut very deep. He struggles with God, and, finally, as he opens the Word, God speaks to his heart, giving him the crux of his sermon - and this is what He says, using the verse from 2 Thessalonians 5:18 - and I think it most appropriate for us CIs:
"In everything, give thanks. That's all. That's this morning's sermon.
"If you believe, as I do, that Scripture is the inspired Word of God, then we see this not as a random thought or an oddly clever idea of His servant, Paul, but a loving command issued through the great apostle...
"Though we don't do it often enough, it's easy to have a grateful heart for food and shelter, love and hope, health and peace. But what about the hard stuff, the stuff that darkens your world and wounds you to the quick? Just what is this everything business?...
"Everything is the word on which this whole powerful command stands and has its being.
"Please don't misunderstand; the word thanks is crucial. But a deeper spiritual truth, I believe, lies in giving thanks in...everything.
"In loss of all kinds, In illness. In depression. In grief. In failure. And, of course, in health and peace, success and happiness. In everything.
"There'll be times when you wonder how you can possibly thank Him for something that turns your life upside down; certainly there will be such times for me. Let us, then, at times like these, give thanks on faith alone...obedient, trusting, hoping, believing,..
"Some of us have been in trying circumstances these last months, Unsettling. Unremitting. Even, we sometimes think, unbearable. Dear God, we pray, Stop this! Fix that! Bless us - and step on it!
"I admit to you that although I often thank God for my blessings, I haven't thanked Him for my afflictions.
"I know the fifth chapter of Thessalonians pretty well, yet it hadn't occurred to me to actually take Him up on the notion. I've been too busy begging Him to lead me out of the valley and onto the mountaintop...
"Why have I decided to take these four words as a personal commission? Here's the entire eighteenth verse:
"'In everything give thanks...for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you'"
"His will concerning you, His will concerning me...
"Let's look once more at the four words God is saying to us...by looking at what our obedience to them will say to God.
"Our obedience will say, 'Father, I don't know why You're causing, or allowing, this hard thing to happen, but I'm going to give thanks in it because You ask me to. I'm going to trust You to have a purpose for it that I can't know and may never know. Bottom line, You're God --- and that's good enough for me.'"
For a CI, these are words to take to heart. It is never easy to thank Him when the pain hits and seems to stretch each minute until an hours worth of pain seems encapsulated in a few minutes, or when the world is gray and hopeless looking, or the heart breaks with the absence of another. Yet, as Father Tim reminds us, it is a loving command - one that reminds us Who is in charge, and can change the face of our CI if we let it.
It is my prayer that you, gentle reader, will join me in doing just that.
The emotional turmoil has taken its toll, however, as is usual with my CI. So today after a sleepless night I have treated myself to a trip to Mitford.
For those of you unfamiliar with Jan Karon's series, they are set in Mitford, North Carolina and patterned after the city of Blowing Rock. The first book in the series is At Home In Mitford. I've had the great pleasure of meeting Ms. Karon several times and going to Blowing Rock - and being charmed by the tiny town nestled on a green, forested mountain top.
The books tell the story of an Episcopal priest and the everyday things that he encounters - and are the first books I've ever read where someone actually consults God when facing troubles or being blessed by joy. He speaks of the Holy Spirit as though He were concerned with the smallest details of our lives - which, of course, He is! Every once in awhile I reread the whole series, I highly recommend them.
Today I have been reading In This Mountain, and one section has really spoken to me, bringing me to the Throne in gratitude.
Father Tim, the main character, has been dealt a hard blow. He needs a sermon for the next day and he is spiritually dry. He has struggled with a depression and pain that cut very deep. He struggles with God, and, finally, as he opens the Word, God speaks to his heart, giving him the crux of his sermon - and this is what He says, using the verse from 2 Thessalonians 5:18 - and I think it most appropriate for us CIs:
"In everything, give thanks. That's all. That's this morning's sermon.
"If you believe, as I do, that Scripture is the inspired Word of God, then we see this not as a random thought or an oddly clever idea of His servant, Paul, but a loving command issued through the great apostle...
"Though we don't do it often enough, it's easy to have a grateful heart for food and shelter, love and hope, health and peace. But what about the hard stuff, the stuff that darkens your world and wounds you to the quick? Just what is this everything business?...
"Everything is the word on which this whole powerful command stands and has its being.
"Please don't misunderstand; the word thanks is crucial. But a deeper spiritual truth, I believe, lies in giving thanks in...everything.
"In loss of all kinds, In illness. In depression. In grief. In failure. And, of course, in health and peace, success and happiness. In everything.
"There'll be times when you wonder how you can possibly thank Him for something that turns your life upside down; certainly there will be such times for me. Let us, then, at times like these, give thanks on faith alone...obedient, trusting, hoping, believing,..
"Some of us have been in trying circumstances these last months, Unsettling. Unremitting. Even, we sometimes think, unbearable. Dear God, we pray, Stop this! Fix that! Bless us - and step on it!
"I admit to you that although I often thank God for my blessings, I haven't thanked Him for my afflictions.
"I know the fifth chapter of Thessalonians pretty well, yet it hadn't occurred to me to actually take Him up on the notion. I've been too busy begging Him to lead me out of the valley and onto the mountaintop...
"Why have I decided to take these four words as a personal commission? Here's the entire eighteenth verse:
"'In everything give thanks...for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you'"
"His will concerning you, His will concerning me...
"Let's look once more at the four words God is saying to us...by looking at what our obedience to them will say to God.
"Our obedience will say, 'Father, I don't know why You're causing, or allowing, this hard thing to happen, but I'm going to give thanks in it because You ask me to. I'm going to trust You to have a purpose for it that I can't know and may never know. Bottom line, You're God --- and that's good enough for me.'"
For a CI, these are words to take to heart. It is never easy to thank Him when the pain hits and seems to stretch each minute until an hours worth of pain seems encapsulated in a few minutes, or when the world is gray and hopeless looking, or the heart breaks with the absence of another. Yet, as Father Tim reminds us, it is a loving command - one that reminds us Who is in charge, and can change the face of our CI if we let it.
It is my prayer that you, gentle reader, will join me in doing just that.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
The Price He Paid
It is late, we are a watchful household tonite.
One of the four-legged furry loved ones who live here is ill. He is no spring chicken at 14, a grand old age for a cat.
In two days he has gone from well and spunky but fading away - he lost 1/2 lb in two days. And then on Monday things were a little off - he kept licking his paw, licking his paw, licking his paw - when to our horror we discovered an abscess draining on that paw.
He visited the vet , came home, and 3 hours later another has appeared, this time on a hind leg. He has spent the day curled up in one spot - this from a little ball of fire interested in everything you do and having to be there in on it. For the last 8 hours he has neither drank nor eaten - and he is the one who hears distant paper crackling and is convinced it has something to do with food. For him.
If he makes it through the night, he will be put down in the morning.
We know it is time. We know it is necessary. We know it is the last and greatest kindness we can show him, to end his downward spiral before the pain becomes too severe.
So why does it feel like it's murdering someone who trusts you to make sure he is safe?
The heart recoils in horror, stomach tying itself in knots that will not loosen for a long, long time
For this dearly loved little furrball, it will be a difficult thing to do.
It set me thinking about the One Who had to watch a much more treacherous and painful death.
For the Father set His Son on a path that would lead to a viciously evil torturous way to die. Because if He didn't, all of those whom He loved would be denied His presence, and suffer eternal torment.
And so, on the night before the Day of all days, He went to meet His Son in a garden. His Son begged of Him, "If there be any other way, any other way, please, Papa"
And His beloved Papa could not say, "yes, there is a kinder way to do this. " He steeled Himself and simply said, "There is no other way."
So Papa watched as it began. He clenched His teeth and watched as His Son was spat on, mocked, and had a thorny crown crammed down on His head - the thorns were approximately 5-7 inches long, tearing , slicing through veins, releasing little trickles of blood down his forehead, matting His hair.
Watched the "High Priest"- the" guardian of truth" - sell that privilege of guardianship to retain his political power. He valued God's Son, the Messiah of Israel, at 50 sheckles of silver, the price of a slave.
His Papa watched 3 separate trials, each one illegal in the manner in which it was executed. Watched a magistrate wash his hands - as if that would make him guiltless in the sentence of death he would pronounce on an innocent man. Watched the man condemn His Son after a dream had been sent to his wife to warn him.
Watched as He was scourged with the Roman Cat o' Nine tails - strips of leather imbedded with nails and sharp stones, pieces of glass - anything that would tear flesh in the most excruciating way.
Tears began to stream down His face; yet still He watched.
Watched them put Him on a cross. Watched Him slowly suffocate in agony. Watched Him plead for those who crucified them, saying they had no way of knowing what they were doing - pleading "Abba, forgive them."
As the pain got worse for His Son, it began.
They came, sin upon sin upon sin, every sin anyone had ever committed. Every sin anyone would ever commit. Sin upon sin upon sin - my sin, your sin for 3 hours they had been coming. And then, for the first time in eternities before, and the first time in all the eternities to come, the Father could not bear to look upon His perfect, loving Son as sin filled every cell, every corpuscle, every iota of His being.
He turned away. And when He left, He took the light with Him.
He heard His Son's cry of anguish ring through the darkened universe He had created, calling "Abba! Papa! Why have You forsaken Me?"
The perfect Lamb of God, alone in a cosmic darkness, bleating with pain and fear and the taste of sin in His mouth,the stench of it in His nostrils. One upon one upon one,endlessly stretching through every shattering moment of pain.
It lasted for 3 more hours. Sins being nailed to His cross. The sins of His mother, of His brothers, the sins of Judas, the sins of Pilate, the sins of those who drove the nail into His shredded flesh.
My sins. Your sins. The world's sins. This sinless Lamb of God choked on them, He saw them, felt them.
Became them.
Then suddenly His cry of triumph rang through the endless corridors of time: "It is finished!!!!" "Totelestai," the Roman word for a prisoner who had served his time, paid for his crime, forever carrying with him the piece of paper that proved he could never again be arrested or tried for that crime: it had been paid in full.
At the sound of His Son's death, the Father tore His clothes - a Jewish form of mourning, symbolically baring the mourning heart for all to see.
And so He grabbed the 6 foot thick veils to the Holy of Holies and tore them from top to bottom, baring His broken heart, opening the way for all eternity, opening His arms to all who accepted the sacrifice His Son had made.
It is an amazing thing to be washed in the Blood of the Lamb, to be free for all eternity because that Blood paid my way and made me worthy to enter the Holy of Holies any time I want.
And yet, as we approach the day commemorating that sacrifice, that gift, my thoughts often go back to the Father, also alone for the first time in eternity - aching over His Son, wanting so badly to wipe these people off the face of the earth, holding Himself back to make a way for us. Enduring it. Having those pictures, those moments, burned into His memory.
That horrible night that cost both Father and Son so much, paid my way in full. O my Father! I have no idea what that cost You - or Your Son - and I know I could never repay it! So, to the best of my ability, I will spend the rest of my life thanking You. I would, truly, be lost without You.
Baruch haba Hashem Adonai! "Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of the Lord."
One of the four-legged furry loved ones who live here is ill. He is no spring chicken at 14, a grand old age for a cat.
In two days he has gone from well and spunky but fading away - he lost 1/2 lb in two days. And then on Monday things were a little off - he kept licking his paw, licking his paw, licking his paw - when to our horror we discovered an abscess draining on that paw.
He visited the vet , came home, and 3 hours later another has appeared, this time on a hind leg. He has spent the day curled up in one spot - this from a little ball of fire interested in everything you do and having to be there in on it. For the last 8 hours he has neither drank nor eaten - and he is the one who hears distant paper crackling and is convinced it has something to do with food. For him.
If he makes it through the night, he will be put down in the morning.
We know it is time. We know it is necessary. We know it is the last and greatest kindness we can show him, to end his downward spiral before the pain becomes too severe.
So why does it feel like it's murdering someone who trusts you to make sure he is safe?
The heart recoils in horror, stomach tying itself in knots that will not loosen for a long, long time
For this dearly loved little furrball, it will be a difficult thing to do.
It set me thinking about the One Who had to watch a much more treacherous and painful death.
For the Father set His Son on a path that would lead to a viciously evil torturous way to die. Because if He didn't, all of those whom He loved would be denied His presence, and suffer eternal torment.
And so, on the night before the Day of all days, He went to meet His Son in a garden. His Son begged of Him, "If there be any other way, any other way, please, Papa"
And His beloved Papa could not say, "yes, there is a kinder way to do this. " He steeled Himself and simply said, "There is no other way."
So Papa watched as it began. He clenched His teeth and watched as His Son was spat on, mocked, and had a thorny crown crammed down on His head - the thorns were approximately 5-7 inches long, tearing , slicing through veins, releasing little trickles of blood down his forehead, matting His hair.
Watched the "High Priest"- the" guardian of truth" - sell that privilege of guardianship to retain his political power. He valued God's Son, the Messiah of Israel, at 50 sheckles of silver, the price of a slave.
His Papa watched 3 separate trials, each one illegal in the manner in which it was executed. Watched a magistrate wash his hands - as if that would make him guiltless in the sentence of death he would pronounce on an innocent man. Watched the man condemn His Son after a dream had been sent to his wife to warn him.
Watched as He was scourged with the Roman Cat o' Nine tails - strips of leather imbedded with nails and sharp stones, pieces of glass - anything that would tear flesh in the most excruciating way.
Tears began to stream down His face; yet still He watched.
Watched them put Him on a cross. Watched Him slowly suffocate in agony. Watched Him plead for those who crucified them, saying they had no way of knowing what they were doing - pleading "Abba, forgive them."
As the pain got worse for His Son, it began.
They came, sin upon sin upon sin, every sin anyone had ever committed. Every sin anyone would ever commit. Sin upon sin upon sin - my sin, your sin for 3 hours they had been coming. And then, for the first time in eternities before, and the first time in all the eternities to come, the Father could not bear to look upon His perfect, loving Son as sin filled every cell, every corpuscle, every iota of His being.
He turned away. And when He left, He took the light with Him.
He heard His Son's cry of anguish ring through the darkened universe He had created, calling "Abba! Papa! Why have You forsaken Me?"
The perfect Lamb of God, alone in a cosmic darkness, bleating with pain and fear and the taste of sin in His mouth,the stench of it in His nostrils. One upon one upon one,endlessly stretching through every shattering moment of pain.
It lasted for 3 more hours. Sins being nailed to His cross. The sins of His mother, of His brothers, the sins of Judas, the sins of Pilate, the sins of those who drove the nail into His shredded flesh.
My sins. Your sins. The world's sins. This sinless Lamb of God choked on them, He saw them, felt them.
Became them.
Then suddenly His cry of triumph rang through the endless corridors of time: "It is finished!!!!" "Totelestai," the Roman word for a prisoner who had served his time, paid for his crime, forever carrying with him the piece of paper that proved he could never again be arrested or tried for that crime: it had been paid in full.
At the sound of His Son's death, the Father tore His clothes - a Jewish form of mourning, symbolically baring the mourning heart for all to see.
And so He grabbed the 6 foot thick veils to the Holy of Holies and tore them from top to bottom, baring His broken heart, opening the way for all eternity, opening His arms to all who accepted the sacrifice His Son had made.
It is an amazing thing to be washed in the Blood of the Lamb, to be free for all eternity because that Blood paid my way and made me worthy to enter the Holy of Holies any time I want.
And yet, as we approach the day commemorating that sacrifice, that gift, my thoughts often go back to the Father, also alone for the first time in eternity - aching over His Son, wanting so badly to wipe these people off the face of the earth, holding Himself back to make a way for us. Enduring it. Having those pictures, those moments, burned into His memory.
That horrible night that cost both Father and Son so much, paid my way in full. O my Father! I have no idea what that cost You - or Your Son - and I know I could never repay it! So, to the best of my ability, I will spend the rest of my life thanking You. I would, truly, be lost without You.
Baruch haba Hashem Adonai! "Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of the Lord."
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The Very Hairs of your head are numbered...
My sister-in-law is out of town again for grandkid's birthdays. She'll be gone for a week - so I've been having to go to the store and get meds etc. Usually my sil drives me so I've been praying before I go anywhere that God will keep me safe and not let me kill anybody. I'm exhausted.
I have been grocery shopping, which leaves feeling me dried up, spat out, and left by the side of the road. Then I had to go today to Costco, which for those of you who don't know, is a ginormous warehouse full of foods and appliances and, of course, the pharmacy is at the very back, a mile and a half away (at least that's how it feels) and today there were no putt-putts (they actually have little electric carts for those of us who are standing and walking challenged). My Rx wouldn't be ready for a half hour so, brilliantly, I decided to wander the acreage and look around - then wandered back (uphill) when the beeper went off ( yes, they hand out beepers, just like some fancy restaurant).
Needless to say, I was a weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee bit tired by the time I was through.
Now, there's a Greek takeout place with wonderful food somewhere around there - I can never find it - but after getting my meds I thought I'd try to find it - again. Why? Dunno. Seemed like a good idea at the time.
So I'm driving down different streets looking for this place and suddenly the warning light for extreme low pressure in my tires goes off. I don't know about you, but when a warning light goes off on my dashboard, blinking red or yellow to get my immediate attention (which, incidentally, works really well) I panic.
I know there's a car place also somewhere in my vicinity - but I don't have a clue where, my brother usually does all my car stuff, God bless him. Anyway I pray immediately Lord what do I do??? I don't even have a tire gauge!!
At the moment, I'm in a turn lane and, as I turn, I notice there's a gas station opposite me. At the next intersection I make a u-turn and go back. It's like one of those mini-mart-free-shower-with-fill-up places which, in California, is usually run by a surly person of indeterminate species and only carries bizarre snacks and alcohol.
But I drive in and park in front of the air hose. Above the hose is a bright red sign stating it can only be used after inserting 75cents in quarters - they charge for air now!!! I was aghast! (But then, since I didn't know how to use it anyway, it was sort of a moot point.)
I enter the mini mart. I ask the cash register person, who is built like a bodyguard/biker and has a long grey skinny braid halfway down his back and a cherubic face surrounded by short salt and pepper hair, if they have a gauge. "Yup. Right down that aisle, on the right."
Happily, I at least knew what they looked like, so I could identify what I wanted to purchase! I found it, took it to the register and, fully aware that I'm being really pathetic, asked him if he could tell me how to use it.
"Yes ma'am," he said.And then, in the kindly tone you use to comfort a 7 year old who has just been told by a classmate that there is no Santa Claus, he added, "I'll take it out to the car and take care of you."
Handel's Alleluia Chorus begins playing in my head - in full stereo!
He rang up the sale, got someone else to cover the counter and came outside with me. He showed me how to read the gauge, checked the tires, showed me how to use the air pump, and filled the one that was low (after I deposited 75cents of course). On the outside I thanked him several times - on the inside I was thanking God and alleluia chorusing!
Yes, Virginia, THERE ARE ANGELS AMONG US!
And may the Lord reward his kindness.
Here I'd been completely terrified, close to tears and totally lost - and God had it allllllll under control. (I even found the Greek place!!)
The thing is, I knew that He was in control.
You probably do, too - but in the middle of life's crises, we forget.
So here's a little handy reminder that whatever you're going through today, from CI to facing your worst fears: God knows. You are not alone in the cosmos.
God has it alllllllllllllllll under control.
Trust Him.
Monday, March 5, 2012
I was reading in Deuteronomy today - and I noticed the way remembering the Passover was stressed and stressed and stressed again -" Do not forget that you were once a slave in Egypt." Moses was speaking to people who were children at the first Passover, and now were 40-60 years old. The ones who were the slaves had all died in the desert. Yet they were reminded that they had been slaves in Egypt - and reminded of the God Who frees from servitude.
Jesus did the same thing - at the "Last Supper" which in actuality was a Passover celebration, the One Who frees from servitude said to His apostles, "Do this in remembrance of Me."
At every communion service, He is remembered - and He is remembered for setting us free - the children of slaves, and slaves ourselves until the moment when we realized we needed our Passover Lamb to save us.
Coming up on Passover time, we do well to remember how much Jesus is represented in the Passover itself. I think this is especially true for those of us who are CI.
We are in a sort of slavery to whatever our particular CI is - and yet, He has made a way for us to be free, even as we wear the 'shackles" of illness. He bought us out of the marketplace as slaves, washed us with His blood, and freed us - from sin, yes, but from being bound also. On bad days this is often difficult to remember - all we see is the hedges that close us in, whereas if we look up, we see freedom. All hedges are for our protection as well as a means of confinement. He is creating something special in us - for all eternity we will be an example of His keeping power, His freeing power and, when and if He heals us, His healing power.
Now, on to the feast!
The lamb, of course, is central to the ceremony - and an unbroken bone is included in the Passover plate as a reminder that the sheep was to be sacrificed without breaking a single bone. In the original ceremony, the lamb's blood is put on the lintel (the top of the door), then the sides of the doorway - in one motion making the sign of the cross. The matzos - the unleavened bread at dinner, is striped and pierced, the same way Jesus was. The father of the house searches everywhere to find the leaven - for they are commanded to have no leaven in their houses for 7 days, and leaven is a type of sin, found everywhere in the OT and NT. Father searches everywhere with a lit candle (the Holy Spirit.) When a ceremonial piece of leaven is found, it is put in a paper cup and burned outside of the house. Children run wild in the house, "helping" Father find the forbidden lumps of bread left here and there.
Bitter herb - a bit of parsley - and salt water - representing the tears of the slaves, are taken - each dipping the parsley in the saltwater. This is what Jesus referred to when pointing out to John who His betrayer was - "He who dips in the bowl with me..."
And then we have the three matzos. Father pulls out a bag with 3 compartments. One whole piece of matzo in the top, one whole piece of matzo on the bottom. But, in the center compartment, the matzo is broken in half. Only half goes into its pouch, the other half is wrapped in linen and is "buried" by Father. This is the piece Jesus broke and said "this is my Body, broken for you." The piece that is buried is called the Afikommen. That is not a Hebrew word. It is a Greek word that means, "He will be back."
Meanwhile, 3 cups of wine are passed. The 3rd cup, which is our communion, is called "the cup of Redemption". It is this cup that Jesus held when He said, "This is My blood, shed for you"
Then Father "suddenly" finds the Afikommen, and it is broken and passed to all.
The youngest child in the house gets to as the 4 questions of Passover, beginning with the well=known, "Why is this Saturday different from any other Saturday?" Then at the end, taking note of the table setting in front of the empty chair, the child runs to the door to see if Elijah is standing there, because Elijah is prophesied to come before Messiah comes. Finding no one (yet) the youngster comes back and the Hallel Psalms are sung on the way out, as Jesus and His apostles rose and went to Gethsemane.
The garden at Gethsemane was actually a large portion of the hill opposite the temple. Passover is one of the feasts of Israel where each male must appear before the Lord . The population of Jerusalem would swell , as some estimate, from a few thousand to close to a million people, and many could not afford a hotel room - if there was one to be found - and so the families and single men camp out amidst the olive trees.
It is here Judas comes, leading a crowd of unruly men, presumably with torches, to the grove where Judas knew He would be. It would have awakened all those in the garden with the noise and the torches - they would be staring and pointing and whispering to one another.
The humiliation had begun.
Those in the garden would have seen Peter chop off the High Priest's servant's ear - and seen Jesus heal him. The servant would have been covered in blood all over his tunic. I've often wondered what kind of man could have an ear chopped off in an instant, screaming with the pain and horror of it- then in another instant, cut off in mid-scream, be perfectly healed - no pain, no more blood, reach up and feel the ear completely whole and pain free, and then in another instant, arrest the and beat the One Who healed you.
It's an amazing feast - and I've really left most of it out! If you want to check it out online at zolalevitt.com you will find many resources, from a book on the feasts of Israel to a video of the full ceremony. This feast was fulfilled so perfectly by the Messiah - and more and more Jews - and Arabs(all the children of Abraham) - are coming to know Him, as He has begun to lift the veil that has covered their eyes for 2 millennia. Soon the cries of "Baruch haba Hashem Adonai" will once again ring out from the temple mount "Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of the LORD!"
We live in an exciting time, as prophecy is fulfilled before our eyes - we slaves who were not only set free, but adopted into His family. We have become His brothers and sisters - all children of the Father, indwelled by the Holy Spirit, and saved by the Blood of the Lamb.
"Do this in remembrance of Me..."
Selah.
Jesus did the same thing - at the "Last Supper" which in actuality was a Passover celebration, the One Who frees from servitude said to His apostles, "Do this in remembrance of Me."
At every communion service, He is remembered - and He is remembered for setting us free - the children of slaves, and slaves ourselves until the moment when we realized we needed our Passover Lamb to save us.
Coming up on Passover time, we do well to remember how much Jesus is represented in the Passover itself. I think this is especially true for those of us who are CI.
We are in a sort of slavery to whatever our particular CI is - and yet, He has made a way for us to be free, even as we wear the 'shackles" of illness. He bought us out of the marketplace as slaves, washed us with His blood, and freed us - from sin, yes, but from being bound also. On bad days this is often difficult to remember - all we see is the hedges that close us in, whereas if we look up, we see freedom. All hedges are for our protection as well as a means of confinement. He is creating something special in us - for all eternity we will be an example of His keeping power, His freeing power and, when and if He heals us, His healing power.
Now, on to the feast!
The lamb, of course, is central to the ceremony - and an unbroken bone is included in the Passover plate as a reminder that the sheep was to be sacrificed without breaking a single bone. In the original ceremony, the lamb's blood is put on the lintel (the top of the door), then the sides of the doorway - in one motion making the sign of the cross. The matzos - the unleavened bread at dinner, is striped and pierced, the same way Jesus was. The father of the house searches everywhere to find the leaven - for they are commanded to have no leaven in their houses for 7 days, and leaven is a type of sin, found everywhere in the OT and NT. Father searches everywhere with a lit candle (the Holy Spirit.) When a ceremonial piece of leaven is found, it is put in a paper cup and burned outside of the house. Children run wild in the house, "helping" Father find the forbidden lumps of bread left here and there.
Bitter herb - a bit of parsley - and salt water - representing the tears of the slaves, are taken - each dipping the parsley in the saltwater. This is what Jesus referred to when pointing out to John who His betrayer was - "He who dips in the bowl with me..."
And then we have the three matzos. Father pulls out a bag with 3 compartments. One whole piece of matzo in the top, one whole piece of matzo on the bottom. But, in the center compartment, the matzo is broken in half. Only half goes into its pouch, the other half is wrapped in linen and is "buried" by Father. This is the piece Jesus broke and said "this is my Body, broken for you." The piece that is buried is called the Afikommen. That is not a Hebrew word. It is a Greek word that means, "He will be back."
Meanwhile, 3 cups of wine are passed. The 3rd cup, which is our communion, is called "the cup of Redemption". It is this cup that Jesus held when He said, "This is My blood, shed for you"
Then Father "suddenly" finds the Afikommen, and it is broken and passed to all.
The youngest child in the house gets to as the 4 questions of Passover, beginning with the well=known, "Why is this Saturday different from any other Saturday?" Then at the end, taking note of the table setting in front of the empty chair, the child runs to the door to see if Elijah is standing there, because Elijah is prophesied to come before Messiah comes. Finding no one (yet) the youngster comes back and the Hallel Psalms are sung on the way out, as Jesus and His apostles rose and went to Gethsemane.
The garden at Gethsemane was actually a large portion of the hill opposite the temple. Passover is one of the feasts of Israel where each male must appear before the Lord . The population of Jerusalem would swell , as some estimate, from a few thousand to close to a million people, and many could not afford a hotel room - if there was one to be found - and so the families and single men camp out amidst the olive trees.
It is here Judas comes, leading a crowd of unruly men, presumably with torches, to the grove where Judas knew He would be. It would have awakened all those in the garden with the noise and the torches - they would be staring and pointing and whispering to one another.
The humiliation had begun.
Those in the garden would have seen Peter chop off the High Priest's servant's ear - and seen Jesus heal him. The servant would have been covered in blood all over his tunic. I've often wondered what kind of man could have an ear chopped off in an instant, screaming with the pain and horror of it- then in another instant, cut off in mid-scream, be perfectly healed - no pain, no more blood, reach up and feel the ear completely whole and pain free, and then in another instant, arrest the and beat the One Who healed you.
It's an amazing feast - and I've really left most of it out! If you want to check it out online at zolalevitt.com you will find many resources, from a book on the feasts of Israel to a video of the full ceremony. This feast was fulfilled so perfectly by the Messiah - and more and more Jews - and Arabs(all the children of Abraham) - are coming to know Him, as He has begun to lift the veil that has covered their eyes for 2 millennia. Soon the cries of "Baruch haba Hashem Adonai" will once again ring out from the temple mount "Blessed is He Who comes in the Name of the LORD!"
We live in an exciting time, as prophecy is fulfilled before our eyes - we slaves who were not only set free, but adopted into His family. We have become His brothers and sisters - all children of the Father, indwelled by the Holy Spirit, and saved by the Blood of the Lamb.
"Do this in remembrance of Me..."
Selah.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
A Grateful Heart
Wow! two months since last I wrote!
Things have been rough for awhile. I am filled with gratitude to be able to say the sciatic nerve pain has been extinguished for the moment. This was my second attack, so I figure it can attack again when God wills it. For now, my soul is awash with the thanksgiving of less pain to deal with!
My energy level has been sucked dry by all the above. I have had to stop attending church, and have been grateful for the Internet broadcast our church has. I have to say that my pastor is one of the best teachers I've ever been honored to listen to - He researches all the backgrounds, the places , the customs, mixes it with humor, the tenderness of God's heart, and the joy of being His child. You can listen as well - the website is http://www.ccgreenvalley.org/ and the time (all Pacific standard) of the broadcasts is noted. Wednesday nights are Old Testament, Saturday nights and Sundays are New. There is also a video archive of all his teaching, and an audio one down loadable to your smartphones, whatever they are (can you tell I am not a great whiz with electronics?) He is also on the Calvary Chapel radio station - his program is "Through the Word".
I feel in a way as if I were emerging from a tunnel. The colors of Spring, which come early to the high desert, are everywhere. The town was planned; so the mulberry trees and the Palo Verde trees are putting on their show at present - wild profusions of lacy pink blossoms dance on the breezes (and hang on for dear life during our frequent windstorms!). The Palo Verde are trees with chartreuse green bark (lifelong) and chartreuse green spring flowers that have a touch of yellow in them. The branches and limbs are as fine as a flower stem, and when in bloom look like they belong in a fairyland. Hummingbirds with flashes of bright purple and brilliant reds dip in and out of the gossamer blossoms and delight the heart. And our quail (as many as 15-20 at a time, the babies of babies of babies of our first group of 4) cluck and chortle their way through our days, bringing laughter and delight. We also have two male mockingbirds who seem to stake out our feeders as "theirs" every spring, strolling on our back cement block wall until they see each other. Then they stop, not a feather moving, not a muscle twitching and give each other "the stare." And then they run full tilt at one another and chest bump, for all the world like two tipsy Bubbas trying to impress a lady. The first time I saw that "display" I roared with laughter and tears filled my eyes. I've never heard of such behavior among birds - elk, yes, mountain sheep, yes, but birds? I should film it and put it on YouTube!
For us CI's, little things become big things. If we're housebound, every excursion is precious. Paths in parks that are wheelchair accessible are wonders, chairs in libraries, individual go carts in grocery stores, all are wonderful gifts which, I must confess, I tend to take for granted. I've been blessed to visit a few countries "across the pond" and I certainly was pleased to return to the smoke-free and handicap accessible portion of the USA where I live.
And that's the point of this devotional today - gratitude and thanksgiving.
When I lost my eyesight for awhile, I was so deeply grateful for its return. Now, once again, I find myself taking it for granted, although it was in my heart and on my lips frequently at its return.
The same thing happens when my pain medication works especially well, not just decreasing but eliminating the pain for awhile. To suddenly realize the pain is gone is a miraculous thing for me. You would think that the first thing out of my mouth would be thanksgiving, wouldn't you? Yet that is often, to my shame, not the case. I often don't realize it's gone until it hits again, unexpectedly and with vigor. After all these years, you would think I had it down pat.
Nope.
When I attended my first Christian Writers' Conference, I found Dr.Ruth Vaughn's books. She is a contemporary and friend of Eugenia Price, one of my favorites. Dr. Vaughn's doctorate is in creative writing. She had been a professor at the same college as her husband for years.
Then cancer struck.
She had cancer of the pituitary gland, almost died more than once, and was confined to bed for quite awhile as it got worse - then gradually the treatment began to work and she was cured. During this time she wrote letters to her children with things she wanted them to know- Letters In A Lockbox was the result. Letters Dropt From God and Even When I Cry were two others that resulted - plus My God! My God! , the cries of a frightened sheep, like you and me, bleating with fear at the edge of a precipice. What's a Mother to Say? is her answer to the questions, sometimes difficult, that children can ask that really make us think, and then shares her answers - from a strong Christian position.
But way back then at the Writers' Conference I stumbled on her book Writing to Discover Yourself . It was an amazing journey in writing - guidelines for any writer, written soon after her diagnosis when she was bedridden for the most part. It changed the way I looked at life, the way I wrote, the way I processed the world - all a long-winded way to share this piece she included in the section on the senses. I've been reading her again and stumbled on it - and it left me face down in worship before my King, confessing my thankless heart and using her words to praise Him.
I invite you to join me - this is Dr. Vaughn's piece, "Lord, Accept My Belated Thanks" from Write to Discover Yourself copywrited 1980, page 51.
"I thank You, Lord, that You have not diminished the beauty of the rainbow, the grace of the cottontail, or the luminous loveliness of summer for lack of praise from me. I am grateful, Lord, that You have not withdrawn a note from the haunting music of the wind, the excitement of the cold, wild spray of blowing rain, the enchantment of the breeze and oaks exchanging secrets, because of my negligent gratitude. I thank You, Lord, for not leaving unfinished one golden leaf, one tickling raindrop, one mischievous, slender moonbeam because of my sleeping thankfulness.
"I am grateful, Lord, for grumbling thunder which rattles winter stars together, for the lazy coils of morning that unwind slowly into a lovely day, for protesting jays and sequestered thickets, for sprinkles of stars, scatter-pinned on the velvet folds of the heavens, for the giddy, gay robins to announce the arrival of spring, for the glory of a young pear tree in bridal veil.
"I thank You for the diverse radiances of the dawn, the crystal-ringed fishpond, the laughter of little children, the bedstead initialed by small convalescents, the quicksilver moments of love and happiness.
"Lord, now I pause in a moment of thanksgiving. I know that it is long overdue. For the beauty with which You have filled my world has been taken for granted by me far too long. Accept my gratitude for Thy salvation, a place to serve, friends who love and care, a challenge for which to work, a hope to hold to my heart, a dream to hang onto the very loveliness of spring.
"And, most of all, Lord, thank You for taking time from engineering Your planets, Your moons, Your suns, Your stars to bend above me listening to my cry for help; and even though I am often ungrateful and always unworthy, You care for me. You love me. You answer my prayer!
Though belated and long overdue, Lord, accept my thanks!"
To which I add, "Amen, and Amen."
Things have been rough for awhile. I am filled with gratitude to be able to say the sciatic nerve pain has been extinguished for the moment. This was my second attack, so I figure it can attack again when God wills it. For now, my soul is awash with the thanksgiving of less pain to deal with!
My energy level has been sucked dry by all the above. I have had to stop attending church, and have been grateful for the Internet broadcast our church has. I have to say that my pastor is one of the best teachers I've ever been honored to listen to - He researches all the backgrounds, the places , the customs, mixes it with humor, the tenderness of God's heart, and the joy of being His child. You can listen as well - the website is http://www.ccgreenvalley.org/ and the time (all Pacific standard) of the broadcasts is noted. Wednesday nights are Old Testament, Saturday nights and Sundays are New. There is also a video archive of all his teaching, and an audio one down loadable to your smartphones, whatever they are (can you tell I am not a great whiz with electronics?) He is also on the Calvary Chapel radio station - his program is "Through the Word".
I feel in a way as if I were emerging from a tunnel. The colors of Spring, which come early to the high desert, are everywhere. The town was planned; so the mulberry trees and the Palo Verde trees are putting on their show at present - wild profusions of lacy pink blossoms dance on the breezes (and hang on for dear life during our frequent windstorms!). The Palo Verde are trees with chartreuse green bark (lifelong) and chartreuse green spring flowers that have a touch of yellow in them. The branches and limbs are as fine as a flower stem, and when in bloom look like they belong in a fairyland. Hummingbirds with flashes of bright purple and brilliant reds dip in and out of the gossamer blossoms and delight the heart. And our quail (as many as 15-20 at a time, the babies of babies of babies of our first group of 4) cluck and chortle their way through our days, bringing laughter and delight. We also have two male mockingbirds who seem to stake out our feeders as "theirs" every spring, strolling on our back cement block wall until they see each other. Then they stop, not a feather moving, not a muscle twitching and give each other "the stare." And then they run full tilt at one another and chest bump, for all the world like two tipsy Bubbas trying to impress a lady. The first time I saw that "display" I roared with laughter and tears filled my eyes. I've never heard of such behavior among birds - elk, yes, mountain sheep, yes, but birds? I should film it and put it on YouTube!
For us CI's, little things become big things. If we're housebound, every excursion is precious. Paths in parks that are wheelchair accessible are wonders, chairs in libraries, individual go carts in grocery stores, all are wonderful gifts which, I must confess, I tend to take for granted. I've been blessed to visit a few countries "across the pond" and I certainly was pleased to return to the smoke-free and handicap accessible portion of the USA where I live.
And that's the point of this devotional today - gratitude and thanksgiving.
When I lost my eyesight for awhile, I was so deeply grateful for its return. Now, once again, I find myself taking it for granted, although it was in my heart and on my lips frequently at its return.
The same thing happens when my pain medication works especially well, not just decreasing but eliminating the pain for awhile. To suddenly realize the pain is gone is a miraculous thing for me. You would think that the first thing out of my mouth would be thanksgiving, wouldn't you? Yet that is often, to my shame, not the case. I often don't realize it's gone until it hits again, unexpectedly and with vigor. After all these years, you would think I had it down pat.
Nope.
When I attended my first Christian Writers' Conference, I found Dr.Ruth Vaughn's books. She is a contemporary and friend of Eugenia Price, one of my favorites. Dr. Vaughn's doctorate is in creative writing. She had been a professor at the same college as her husband for years.
Then cancer struck.
She had cancer of the pituitary gland, almost died more than once, and was confined to bed for quite awhile as it got worse - then gradually the treatment began to work and she was cured. During this time she wrote letters to her children with things she wanted them to know- Letters In A Lockbox was the result. Letters Dropt From God and Even When I Cry were two others that resulted - plus My God! My God! , the cries of a frightened sheep, like you and me, bleating with fear at the edge of a precipice. What's a Mother to Say? is her answer to the questions, sometimes difficult, that children can ask that really make us think, and then shares her answers - from a strong Christian position.
But way back then at the Writers' Conference I stumbled on her book Writing to Discover Yourself . It was an amazing journey in writing - guidelines for any writer, written soon after her diagnosis when she was bedridden for the most part. It changed the way I looked at life, the way I wrote, the way I processed the world - all a long-winded way to share this piece she included in the section on the senses. I've been reading her again and stumbled on it - and it left me face down in worship before my King, confessing my thankless heart and using her words to praise Him.
I invite you to join me - this is Dr. Vaughn's piece, "Lord, Accept My Belated Thanks" from Write to Discover Yourself copywrited 1980, page 51.
"I thank You, Lord, that You have not diminished the beauty of the rainbow, the grace of the cottontail, or the luminous loveliness of summer for lack of praise from me. I am grateful, Lord, that You have not withdrawn a note from the haunting music of the wind, the excitement of the cold, wild spray of blowing rain, the enchantment of the breeze and oaks exchanging secrets, because of my negligent gratitude. I thank You, Lord, for not leaving unfinished one golden leaf, one tickling raindrop, one mischievous, slender moonbeam because of my sleeping thankfulness.
"I am grateful, Lord, for grumbling thunder which rattles winter stars together, for the lazy coils of morning that unwind slowly into a lovely day, for protesting jays and sequestered thickets, for sprinkles of stars, scatter-pinned on the velvet folds of the heavens, for the giddy, gay robins to announce the arrival of spring, for the glory of a young pear tree in bridal veil.
"I thank You for the diverse radiances of the dawn, the crystal-ringed fishpond, the laughter of little children, the bedstead initialed by small convalescents, the quicksilver moments of love and happiness.
"Lord, now I pause in a moment of thanksgiving. I know that it is long overdue. For the beauty with which You have filled my world has been taken for granted by me far too long. Accept my gratitude for Thy salvation, a place to serve, friends who love and care, a challenge for which to work, a hope to hold to my heart, a dream to hang onto the very loveliness of spring.
"And, most of all, Lord, thank You for taking time from engineering Your planets, Your moons, Your suns, Your stars to bend above me listening to my cry for help; and even though I am often ungrateful and always unworthy, You care for me. You love me. You answer my prayer!
Though belated and long overdue, Lord, accept my thanks!"
To which I add, "Amen, and Amen."
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