Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Far Be It From Me

“Far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by ceasing to pray for you.”

Samuel the prophet/priest/judge said these words to the people of Isreal after they begged God for a king and He gave them what they wanted.  These people wanted a king because “everyone else was doing it”.

They were a whiney group.  Begging for something they didn’t need.  They didn’t trust their God Whom had delivered them from their enemies countless times before.  They thought their plan was better.

Just like the rest of us.

I personally am extremely grateful God didn’t answer some of my whiney prayers.  Like the one in Jr. High when I pleaded to be the wife of David Cassidy when I got big.  Extremely.  Grateful.

I don’t want to be found guilty of the sin of prayerlessness.   I also don’t want to be found guilty of dominating my prayer time with whiney, selfish prayers.  I want to be found faithful of bringing things to the Lord that really matter.  That are life changing for people.

This morning I woke up very early with a heavy, heavy heart.  A heart hurting over people hurting.

     * A 7 year old boy in the hospital diagnosed with depression because his parents decided they would rather chase after their own happiness than keep their family together.

     * A couple who grieves a death.  The death of their precious little one who came into this world with no life breath.

     * Couples who grieve a death.  Not one death, but a new one every month when the womb weeps red.

      * A young lady burying her fiancĂ© today because he chose not to live in this world any more.  Family all questioning what they could have done.

     * A family hurting over actions and decisions of children.  Trying to find peace.

     * A young woman missing a daddy gone too soon.

Such a heavy heart over heavy things.  Then I remembered something else Samuel said.

“Now, stand still and see this great thing the Lord will do before your eyes.”


We pray.

We wait.

We watch.

Most of all we trust.  Trust that the Jehovah God cares when our heart is heavy.  Trust that He will give us what we need to walk through the things we have to walk through.

Please, oh please, don't stop praying.

Or trusting.

Monday, August 29, 2011

I Need Help

She walked by the bathroom door and thought she heard a muffled sob.

“Is everything okay?” she asked through the closed door.

“I need help.”

She pushed open the door and saw him sitting there; elbows on knees, face in hands.  Weeping.

She didn’t have to ask why.  Quickly turning on the shower, she rolled up sleeves and began to prepare him to get in the water.  There was a stool for him to sit on in the tub - if she could bear his weight for the few steps it would take to get him there.

The running water would also muffle the sobs, weak though they were, so the kids wouldn’t ask questions.

“I’m so sorry” he kept saying in between tears.  So quiet, so weak, she could barely understand.  She assured him there was nothing to apologize for. 

After getting him situated, she checked water temperature and closed the curtain so the water could do its work, washing him clean.  Everything down that drain.

The curtain closed in time to hide her own tears. She began cleaning floor, cleaning walls, cleaning sink.  And for the first time since the very first day of this ordeal, she was mad.

“Why????”  she yelled silently, with clenched jaw.  “He lost his hair, he lost his strength, he lost the light of life in his eyes.  Does he have to have his dignity taken too?”

She wasn’t mad at God, because she knew with all her heart He had a plan.  That is what kept her going.  She was furious at the situation.

She scrubbed and cried.  She scrubbed and cried hard.

Everything got cleaned up, never to be mentioned between them again.  Never acknowledged that it had ever even happened.

How many times has Jesus done that for us?  Put our dirty selves under the Water to be cleansed by Him.  Letting the waste of our lives swirl down the drain.

How many times has He cleaned up our messes and made us all squeaky clean and comfortable, ready to live again?

He hears our sobs when we don’t have the strength to clean ourselves, comes in and rolls up His sleeves and gets to work.  He takes off His outer garment, kneels and washes our feet where we have been soiled by the things of the world.

All because we said “I need help.”

And never mentions it again.

Eph. 5: 26-27    John 15:3   Heb. 8:12

Giving thanks with so many others at

So thankful for:

His cleansing Word,
Lessons from life stories,
Girls giggling on the merry-go-round during PE,
Clean kitchen sink, all shiny,
Hymns and Worship on Pandora,
Extra time for Bible study,
New light bulbs, and
BLESSINGS on the wall.

Father, You are faithful.  I know you are.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Need to Draw Me Close

It's still dark outside when He wakes me to visit.  It's not a waking with a start - or even a couple of nudges.  It's kind of like the Hand just scans up my face and I'm full awake.  If I was to talk out loud to Him it wouldn't be sleepy morning voice.  That is how instantly awake I am.

The first time He did this was about 21 years ago.  The top three were little then all snuggled up in bed chasing dreams in their head when He woke me.  Woke me clean up.  I looked at the clock shining 5:15 am and then began to pray.  Prayed for each of them in their angel protected rooms, then prayed for their dad, wherever he was on his travels that week.  I asked Him to put things in their day that would remind them of Him.  A sunrise or sunset.  A song.  A person.  Anything so they could see Him.

For six straight weeks He woke me.  Every morning.  Five fifteen.  I talked to Him about the ones I loved then I went back to sleep to wait on the alarm.  Same prayer every morning.  The prayer He gave.

Then the diagnosis came.  Six weeks of 5:15 private conversations with Him had not only prepared my heart but prepared their hearts as well.  Helped us all to see Him through the whole journey.

Three little heads with a reality of heaven most adults cannot grasp.

Thank You Jesus.

There have been other times He felt the need to draw me close before I even knew I needed Him.  Like almost every day for a week before son's open heart surgery, and a couple of weeks when daughter was struggling.

Then there are the times I never find out what it is for.

I know it is for something.  Or He wouldn't have bothered.

He loves me that much.

 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
 They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Monday, August 22, 2011

So Much

I'm so blessed.  So thankful for my life.  Here are some things I'm praising God for this week . . .

. . . group hugs,
. . . snickerdoodle birthday cookies,
. . . stylin' guys wearing stylin' glasses,
. . . bulk cooking once again,
. . . and friends.

. . . smart chicken momma wanting only the best for her babies,
. . . re-purposed quilt.

. . . Momma and her boy getting wet.

. . . joy all over faces.

. . .  curriculum.

. . . womb mates.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Icing on the Cake

It seems just like yesterday we took # 6 to the zoo we called home.  Hannah and  
Leah were just taking their first steps; Kyle, Adam and Kayla were in every activity there was to be in at school, and we knew we had an adventure on our hands.  I couldn't have asked for a better baby.  I think Rachel knew I needed her to be sweet.  She was so sweet.  Still is.  

The icing on the cake.


You are precious to me.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Then Sings My Soul

Sitting in the funeral home yesterday with Michael and the girls, I went from one extreme of emotion to the other.  Literally.  We sat close to the back because we didn't know the sweet lady who died, but we did know her sister's family, so we were really there to support them.

Michael usually wears a hat.  Either a cowboy hat or a baseball cap.  Since we were in the funeral home, the hat was in his hand.  I looked over at him and his hair was kind of sticking up in the front, so my eyes went straight to the wayward hair.  I didn't have glasses on so I looked at it longer than I probably should have and he had this look on his face with his eyebrows up, staring right at me and said, "Don't laugh".

He should have never said that.

You know how it is.  
Funeral home  +  wayward hair  +  "don't laugh"  =  uncontrollable laughter.

Oh, it wasn't out loud - except for one little squeak - but I'll tell you what:  I haven't laughed that hard in a really long time.  Too bad I picked that place to do it.
My shoulders were bouncing up and down for a good two minutes.  Tears running down my cheeks, my face all wadded up.

Started a chain reaction:  from Hannah right beside me, to Leah, and on to Rachel.  All sitting there with shoulders bumping up and down.  Not Michael.  He had a smile on his face but he was the king of control.

It was over as soon as it started.  I composed myself as the minister started the service.

There were two women sitting on the row behind us, down the pew a ways.  The younger of the two would talk throughout the service but you couldn't understand her.  I figured out that it was a mother and daughter.  The daughter was probably close to 40 and had special needs.

Close to the end of the service, a song was played that touched this daughter's heart.  And mine.  I didn't realize it until after the first couple of lines:

Oh Lord, my God
When I, in awesome wonder

I heard her as she began to sing along.

Consider all the works Thy hand has made.

Then she was quiet a little bit.

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayed

Then, even though her words I wouldn't have understood if I didn't know the song, she sang:

Then sings my soul, my Savior, God to Thee,


Then sings my soul, my Savior, God to Thee,


She didn't hit every word, but there is no doubt her heart knew every word.  She had a connection to her Lord we all should envy.

She probably never went to public school, knows nothing of politics or world events, but she knows the Creator of the Universe.  Personally.  And she told Him how great He was. It almost felt like we were eavesdropping on her conversation with her Savior.

Blessed my heart.

I started the service with tears of laughter and ended the service with tears of praise to the Father for blessing me with a song from a beautiful heart. 

Then sings my soul . . . . . . . . . HOW GREAT THOU ART !


Monday, August 15, 2011

Squeezing in the Thanks

I'm a little short on time this afternoon but I wanted to share a few things that I am grateful for today.  

Early morning walks.

Wad of baby in daddy's helmet.

Old lamps in every corner.  EVERY corner.

New wide margin Bible.  Yeehaw!

Tomatoes and peaches ready for freezer.

And today, especially grateful for sisters still living.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Be All There

There probably hasn't been one day in the last 40 something 100 degree plus days that I haven't mentioned that I can't wait for fall.  I'm so ready for the cool in the air and the smells and the leaves and the colors.

Especially the cool in the air.

It seems I am always looking ahead to something.


Several weeks back I was reading about Elizabeth Elliott.  Ms. Elliott was one of the first christian authors I ever remember reading.  As I was reading, I came across something she said that has honestly stayed with me and I remember on a daily basis:

"Wherever you are, be all there."

I constantly think ahead.  To the next project, chore, or meeting.  When my body is one place, my mind is usually already on to the next.

Sometimes when I'm really busy Hannah will come in for a hug.  I stop what I'm doing and give her a hug.  Then I do the "pat on the back because I'm busy" so I can get back to work thing.  To which she promptly replies, "Don't pat, Mom".  It's not a real hug unless I'm all there.  And she knows it.

Who am I fooling? 

 She knows it, others know it. 

 God knows it.

If I could only hug without pats, listen without glances, study without distractions, pray without interruptions.

Matt 22:37 says that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our strength and with all our mind.  


I kind of think that if I do it right with Him, I'll do it right with them.  I want to do it right.

I don't want to thrive on the busy.  I want to take advantage of every minute.

So bad, I want to be all there.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Multitudes on Mondays

While loading up photos from family reunion, I filled up a couple of pages of gratefulness.  Thanking Him for . . .

# 161 . . . brother love.

#  162  . . . uncle love.

# 163  . . . fried potato love.  Nanny to granddaughter - to great grandson.  Eli peeling potatoes with his little tummy sticking out.

# 164  . . . finding grandbabies in random places.

# 165  . . . Monty and Cathy with their kids and their extra kids.

# 166 . . . our new personal family chef.

# 167  . . . Christy and Cary, mom and daughter close.

# 168 . . . smiles for mommies playing games.

# 169 . . . short legs hanging with long legs.

# 170 . . . KP fellowship.

# 171  . . . KP fellowship with Jade and Lynn.  I love them.

#172 . . . KP fellowship from Eli who wanted his name on the list every meal.  Precious to me.

# 173 . . . gravy in iron skillet

# 174 . . . bacon dipped in gravy

#175 . . . gravy all over baby face

# 176 . . . games under lights

# 177 . . . lights over games

# 178 . . . water reflecting moonlight

#179 . . . life verse given at a young age to a boy who would rest in it often, even in to manhood.

# 180 . . . the boys men in my life

Looking back at the laughter with happy tears.