There are Days

There are days when you just don't want to do.  You just want to be.  Sometimes there are several days in a row that you don't want to do.  It would just be better not to have to bless anyone with your time, your guidance, your voice.

It really seems very selfish.  This not wanting to bless.

You pull sheets up over your head as tears slide to your pillow because somebody didn't read the sign in the kitchen window.  The sign that told them what makes a momma happy.

There is sadness over sin, over gracelessness, and poison talk; over disrespect and unforgiveness.

You wonder about things that don't seem fair.  You question your worth all because of someone's thoughtlessness.

So you just don't want to give.

You just need to be. 
Just for a little while.

be:  • occupy a position in space        • stay in the same place or condition        • attend 
The only way that would be okay is determined by where that position/place/condition might be.  The only way that would be okay is if you are under the wings of the Almighty.
Go ahead.  Stop doing for a little while.  Crawl under those wings and be.

Jesus Love Me, This I Know

They didn't get every word right, but they were getting close.  Three little smelly boys in the back of the van; two old enough to learn the words, one too young to sing but old enough to laugh at their silliness.

Yes!  Jesus Loves Me!

Yes!  Jesus Loves Me!

Yes!  Jesus Loves Me!

The Bible tells me so.

They sang loud and off key, but it was beautiful.  The three girls and I were singing and laughing along with them and then I felt so emotional.  I didn't know how long we would have these precious boys, but my prayer was that it would be long enough for them to learn all the words to that song.

Then, when they go back to their own families - when they grow up into smelly young men - when they are struggling with life; maybe then they will remember these words and it will take them back to a time when they knew what that love felt like.

I came across a photo yesterday of those curls and that dimple.  He was looking down but I knew what those eyes looked like.  Those green eyes.  Those green eyes laughing, crying, angry, hurt, ornery.  I saw lots of ornery!

He's all grown up now standing there - almost eleven.  I looked over every detail of that photo.  For a long time.  Where have the years gone?  Does he remember us?  Why was he wearing an OU shirt?

My prayer is that he will never forget the short time under our roof.  That we had some kind of God-impact on him.  I pray that he remembers rocking in the recliner, playing with the girls, and riding in Michael's truck singing the Songs of the West - really loud with hand motions.  I pray that he remembers going with Jade to softball games on the Pioneer bus and dancing with her in the living room while watching Dancing with the Stars.

There is so much I hope he remembers.  If he forgets everything - if they all forget everything - I pray often that they remember the words to that song.  Oh Jesus, please let them remember the words to that song.




Linking up with: Women Living Well

Brokenness

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: 

a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. 

Psalm 51:17

1) to crush, be crushed, be contrite, be broken
1a) to be crushed, collapse
1c) to crush down
1d) to crush to powder

I think having a broken and contrite heart might mean to be crushed! Crushed to powder. Some might think that is a painful thing. It can be, but I don't think it has to be.

Brokenness should be a way of life. Not a "woe is me" thing, but a servant mind set that desires to meet the needs of others. A practice that daily brings you to the throne of God with a willing heart to be used however, whenever He chooses.

Brokenness means He will increase and you will decrease. It means that you are willing to be inconvenienced. It is in those inconveniences of the past two weeks, that I have seen the Lord show Himself in great ways.  Drawing lost souls His way because they didn't have much time left.  I love seeing Him work like that.

It means that you lay your weaknesses and faults out and don't hide behind a "holier than thou" attitude. You are constantly in a state of sacrifice.

Sacrifice. There is that word again. I can not get away from it. It is constantly in front of me like a carrot in front of a horse. (I need to lose weight.)

What it really means is to bring the body and soul under the control of the spirit.   That process is a process of becoming WHOLE!

I am really glad it means crushed to a powder instead of pebbles or rocks. I am glad, because pebbles and rocks are difficult to work with. Powder, on the other hand, can be mixed with Water and kneaded until a lump of clay can be thrown on to the Potter's wheel. The Potter can then begin to turn the wheel and gently mold the vessel to the shape that is most useful.

There is no better place to be than in the Potter's hands. I just can't see how that is a painful thing. It is a beautiful thing.

That, my friend, is what I am learning in pursuit of brokenness.





Linking up with:  Raising Mighty Arrows, Our Simple Country Life

As Those Who Have No Hope

Where to start.

With the wife of 50 years saying so long to those big gentle hands; one laying perfectly on top of the other?  Her daughters stand lingering; touching one last time, knowing they are separated only for awhile.

With the 24 year old who can no longer move or talk,  his body so weak and consumed with this disease?  He's ready to go on.  His momma begging, pleading for him to stay.  My guess is that he pretty much always did what his momma wanted, even if he didn't want to.  My guess is he is ready to go and needs her to tell him it is ok.  My heart hurts for her.  Could I do that?  Tell my boy it's ok to go?  That I'll see him soon?  Maybe she doesn't know she could see him again?

With the young daughter who watched her dad live a life that cut his time way too short?  She will grow up without her daddy.  She will probably make better choices for her own life because she will always remember this pain.

With the girl in the back seat crying black all over her pillow case, finally falling asleep exhausted?  She held babies for four days.  Babies who didn't belong to her.  She barely made it to the car so others she had showered with grace would be none the wiser to the pain so deep.  How I desperately want to take that pain from the pit of her being and the ache from the inside of her elbows and carry it as my own.  Relieve her for just a little bit.  It's not mine to carry - it is hers.  If I took it, I would be robbing her of strength that will be needed for future.  Robbing her of a confidence that God does hear.  A God of hope.

With the mommy who waited for 18 years to bring breath into this world, but held breathless instead?  I watched as she lovingly wiped his little face and cried.  Held his little feet with the fourth toe on his right foot bending under the third.  So, so precious.  Everything in me wanted to wrap this perfect stranger up in my arms and hold her grief.  I couldn't keep from touching her, hoping it could bring a little comfort.

Forty eight hours of heartache.

Mixed with a little joy.

Heartache for those who have no hope.

Joy for those who know this is just for a time.

One has a life time of beautiful memories of being married to her best friend and lover.  They won't be apart long.  She has hope.

One continues the vigil over her son in a town of strangers.  Not yet willing to let him go because she isn't sure exactly what that means.  Praying for her heart to know before she gets in the car without her boy and heads on home. Thankful that Michael is there with the answers for her.  Oh, please let her know.

One no longer has an earthly daddy, but is in a place where people will show her she has a heavenly Father.

One knows God has a plan and trusts that plan, but there are days that are just. so. hard.  Jesus, be the strength of her heart and her portion forever.

One has cold photos instead of warm body, but at least it is something to help her remember the too few hours she held and loved.  Though her heart is breaking, I still saw joy of knowing what the future holds.  Jesus, comfort her sweet heart.

Thank You, Father, that You are Husband.  You are Comforter.  You are Father to the fatherless.  You can handle all of this when sometimes it gets a little hard to carry on our own.  And Lord . . . please, please, please give a hope to the hearts who have no hope.

My Boys

I came across this picture this morning and felt so emotional as I began to pray for them.

Lord, guide them.  May they be blessed because they do not walk in the counsel of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of the scoffers; but their delight is in Your law and on Your law they meditate day and night.  May they be like trees planted by streams of water that yield fruit in season and the leaves do not wither and that all they do they will prosper. (Psalm 1)


May they be loving; be joyful, peaceful men;  patient, kind, good husbands. Make their soul and actions abound with faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, for against such things there is no law. By Christ Jesus crucify their flesh with its passions and desires. Let them not grow weary in doing good, for in due season they will reap if they do not give up. And may they never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to him, and he to the world (Galatians 5 & 6).

Oh, sweet, sweet Jesus, hear my prayer.  Incline Your ear to me.

Two Days to Live

Last week Michael was preparing to preach on Jesus and His disciples in the upper room.  I was already in bed and he asked what I would do if I had about 48 hours left to live.  Jesus sat with those men He loved so much and showed them how to live by washing their feet and telling them why it was important.   Then He told them to go and do the same for others.

Without hesitation I said that I would gather all our kids.  I would gather them and when they all got here I would talk a lot.  I would tell them every thing they could possibly need to know to be found faithful when they stand before the Lord.

I would give details of all these things that could actually be summed up in just one sentence.

DO THE RIGHT THING.

He has spelled it out for us in black and white.

Boys.  Love your wives.  No one else.  Just them.  Keep the marriage bed pure.  That means you don't have friends of the opposite sex.  Your best friend is your bride and you aren't missing out on anything but heartache if you do otherwise.  Treat her like she is a princess and take care of her heart so she won't find that love somewhere else.  I believe with all my heart you will stand accountable for this first, because she is your first responsibility.  Teach your kids to love and fear the Lord.  Be a godly example to them and to your brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews.  Be a vessel of honor, not a vessel of dishonor.

Please.

Girls.  Love your husbands.  Be an active helpmeet and show him respect.  That's the language he speaks.   Satiate him from your buffet at home so that he won't be tempted to go for dessert somewhere else (love his socks off!).  You don't need friends of the opposite sex. Treat him like a king and take care of his heart.  Just his.  No one else's.   Your first accountability will be how you did this.  Raise your kids to love and fear the Lord.  Show your brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces what it is to be a vessel of honor.

Please.

If I had 48 hours left, that is what I would say.  I would wash their feet with the Word.

Just like Jesus did.




Linking up with:  A Better Mom & Titus 2sday