AFFIRMATION of 2022: Fruit of the Tree

“A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.”

– Basil of Caesarea

I stood by a tree yesterday that I have loved looking since I moved into this house. When I sit on the porch, I can watch it move with the wind as it stands as a sentinel at the edge of the woods. At one time, it was buried in the midst of many other trees around it; close to the dry bed ravine and not far from the road. But now, it is the tree that defines the border between woods and yard.

It is a poplar tree.  Not a strong tree, but not a weak tree either. Its base is wide and appears strong, but the storms of life has taken its toll.  From further away, I can see the twists and bends that it has made in order to grow so tall.  Yet now, as I stand underneath it, I am picking the bark off of one side of that wide base.  I can guess what has caused it, but that doesn’t matter. The buds have formed for the leaves, and I feel blessed that it will bear fruit of leaves in the spring – at least this year.

As I sit here thinking of that tree tonight, I begin to ponder how close we are to March and the beginning of Lent. The hope for an easier year of peace and joy already fading from our thoughts as the storms of 2022 start to bend and force the trunk of this year to change in ways that we never thought possible. Who would have thunk that a plague of almost 2+ years would still be wreaking havoc, and that we would be watching – almost in real time – a war of possible/probable major proportions? Nuclear war? Peaceful protestors attacked, jailed, while their properties and monies are seized? Inflation eating away incomes? Shortages of some things still occurring in many places or long waits for a new car? Young men deployed to a war-torn land far away, leaving family and friends behind? Young children who have never been to school without a mask – or seen a teacher without one? 

“This is my comfort in these afflictions; Your WORD gives me life.”

Psalm 119:50

It is the fruit of that WORD – a strong tree of life – a tree that continues to stand at the edge of the world’s woods.  A sentinel tree that stands between the dark chaos of the world’s woods, and the well-tended garden that awaits those who pick a bright fruit from the tree. Fruit of the tree. A lamp unto the feet. A lamp that serves to hold back the shifting shadows and reveal a narrow path.  A path dotted with roots, rocks and rotted holes, but now – a lit path – a path making the steps of the pilgrim secure.

As Lent approaches, the lights of Christmas in my windows begin to fade into storage for later this year. The Christmas cards come down from the card tree, but the pictures will remain for prayer.  As I look at my Christmas card tree, I wonder what the world’s woods will look like at the end of 2022. I wonder how many other storms between now and then will attack the sentinel tree.  I wonder how many more signs of prophecies will have to appear in the news before the scoffers realize that the latter days are here.

My prayers are often deep calling unto deep, but I sleep in peace, sheltered under my Sentinel’s branches. His fruited lamp sitting at my bed side as I continue to pray for friends with COVID or other medical concerns.  Praying for those all over the world’s woods who stand for freedom, despite their fears.  Praying for those puffed up on pride and shouting their tyrannical rhetoric. Praying for those I know who are struggling with rising prices and counting pennies between paychecks. Praying for the world’s woods in such a time as this. But most of all, thanking YAH for all His affirmations and for sending His Son, Yeshua Ha’Mashiach and His Breath, Ruach Ha’Kodesh to be the Sentinel standing at the edge of the world’s woods with their lighted fruit so that we might grow fruit as well.     

“Ho! Everyone who thirsts,
Come to the waters;
And you who have no money,
Come, buy and eat.
Yes, come, buy wine and milk
Without money and without price.
Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
And let your soul delight itself in abundance.
Incline your ear, and come to Me.
Hear, and your soul shall live;
And I will make an everlasting covenant with you—”

 

Isaiah 55: 1-3

#BeBlessed #Hedrawethnigh #rapture

• 

  Sentinel tree before it was freed from the woods around it.

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  Christmas card tree.

TABERNACLING 2021: Days of Noah

“Because power corrupts society’s demands for oral authority and character increase as the importance of the position increases.”

John Adams

Between writing, playing the piano, reading, stretching all the arthritic joints (not to mention relaxing inversion board time), puzzling over cryptograms, tossing the ball for the 50^th zillion time as lab girl begs for more, kitty sitting on my lap as she assaults the computer cord, and putzing around the gardens, my day just evaporates.  I scratch my head and wonder just exactly what it is I accomplished, and then I smile.  Whatever it was, I liked it, and when I kneel by my bed at night, I can smile at all the blessings I encountered along the way.

And somewhere in all of the above – is my time digging into these “Days of Noah”.  A few weeks ago, I heard a TV minister describe why he believes that these are truly “The Days of Noah”.  I have been chewing on this concept ever since.

“By faith Noah, being warned by God concerning events as yet unseen, in reverent fear constructed an ark for the saving of his household. By this he condemned the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.”

Hebrews 11:7

He re-told that age-old story that we’ve heard since our very first lessons in Sunday School, You can probably still see the picture of that childhood Ark as Noah and his family loaded all the animals.  An ark that they had spent years building.

In later years, our Bible teachers told us that Noah and his family had been severally challenged as they built this big boat. Neighbors and friends – who had never seen rain fall – let alone try to envision water flooding their desert land – were not afraid to voice their derision and cancel culture of this idea. Imagine the TV shows, newscasts and headlines they would have created around Noah during these days.

Then the Father sealed the doors of the boat, and the rain fell, like tears upon Terra.  A beloved world that had rejected its Creator…again.

“For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark…” Matthew 24:38

Business stopped. 

Death was in the air.

Noah’s family were closed in their floating home.  

It was just them, and the presence of their Father as they rode out the storm together.

The world shut down for the first time in recorded history.

Normal disappeared. 

Life changed forever.

Sound familiar?

“Yet among the mature we do impart wisdom, although it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to pass away.”

1 Corinthians 2:6

I’m sure you’ve already started to see how he was tying all of this together.  We have all been – at one time or another – confined to our landbased home. But while we weren’t sealed in by Our Father, His presence has upheld us every day that passed during this COVID plague. Businesses stopped – some forever. A sea of hospitalizations and death by a disease in the air all around the world. The world shut down for the second time in recorded history.  Normal disappeared.  Life changed. 

The Days of Noah had arrived.

“…and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.”

Matthew 24:39

Tabernacling 2021: Sun and Shield

The sun has been shining bright the past couple of days over this part of the world.  The daffodils are already open in some places (mine are still in the bud stage).  The birds are going crazy in their mating dances outside my windows, catching the corner of my eye even when I’m a good distance from the windows (it’s even better when I’m sitting on the patio swing and they begin dive-bombing me from all sides). 

The sun is like that, right?

Warmth. Light.  Soak deep into all of God’s creation.  Spring is that renewal time when anything seems possible.  The deep darkness of winter is drifting into the recesses of the long term memory banks, and the light permeates its rejuvenating warmth deep inside those places that had been locked away for a period of time  –  as if  –  no good thing has been withheld from all creation.

“For the LORD is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. O LORD of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you.”

Psalm 84:11-12

Between dive-bombing birds and love-struck squirrels playing on the portico above my head, I have needed a shield to sit outside.  I watch my choc lab girl rolling in the wet dirt and sunning herself in between the times she is trying to keep all them critters away from her precious ball. 

Preparing for teaching each week is also a shield of sorts.  It is the shield of something that I have surrounded myself with for many years.  The routine of prayers as I think about what the Father wants me to share with those He has placed in my sphere filters out everything except what He is whispering or nudging me to discover.

Anyway this week, as I was digging through the dark closet’s overhead shelf, looking for some of my old photo essays that I could share with the 7^th graders, I pulled a file down, and things started to fall. Arms and hands immediately covered my head, not sure what else was falling. The sunlight from the window across the room caught a few of the words as they fluttered to the floor. It was the missing part of a chapter that I had been looking for since the beginning of February.

“Praise God from whom all blessings flow;

Praise Him all creatures here below;

Praise Him above, ye heav’nly host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Thomas Ken, “Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow”
Public Domain

If I could still dance without my arthritis haunting me for days, I would have been dancing much like I did when I was little, dressed in my mom’s old lace curtains. I threw down my shield of arms and picked up the pages as the rays of light highlighted the words I had been seeking. Then, like the crazy ol’ lady I am, I hugged my lab girl until she almost fell off the chair (yes – I let my baby sleep on her recliner). 

It was then I remembered what I had read in my devotions this morning…Psalm 52: “…no good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly…”  

Tabernacling in 2021 during Lent brings many new shoots of wisdom.  His Son brought Light and Warmth to those around Him as He walked among us.  He continues to bring Light and Warmth to those who choose to enter His sphere. His love providing a shield to cover us when the darkness threatens to overwhelm us, and we begin to feel the new blooms of joy burst wide as we rejoice in His Son’s Light and Warmth.  #Hedrawethnigh

House of Maria Artwork

Tabernacling 2021: The Ancient Paths

“This world of ours must avoid becoming a community of dreadful fear and hate, and be, instead, a proud confederation of mutual trust and respect.”

President Dwight D. Eisenhower

I have a path in the woods – that – when it is not a ‘slip, sliding away’ type of path – I love to walk. Roots stick up out of the ground just waiting to grab the toe of a shoe. Holes left over from decaying roots are covered by leaves. Sharp edges of stones, uncovered by the tons of rain we’ve had this winter, are exposed waiting to twist an ankle. Yet – it is the perfect place to walk my lab girl and listen to He who speaks in a whisper.

When I was little, I went to a lot of Boy Scout camps…Dad was a scout master, so what can I say? I think I was probably the one of the first girls to break the “all boy” rule – even if it was unofficially. I watched and learned as my dad and the other dads taught their boys the skills necessary to be self-sufficient in this life…including prayers and small story-like sermons around the campfires. Never have been sure why I got to go, but the boys never seemed to mind, and being with my dad and brother, was all I wanted anyway.

The neat thing?

There were always ancient paths to walk at whatever campsite we were at in the state. Paths reported to have existed way before the colonists came and settled in the country. Paths established by tribes of people following the food or water source, season after season. Paths used by the wildlife. Paths honored because they were established by the wisdom of those who came before.

“Stand at the crossroads and look. Ask for the ancient paths: ‘Where is the good way?’ Then walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it!’ I appointed watchmen over you and said, ‘Listen for the sound of the ram’s horn.’

Jeremiah 6:16-17a

I have a feeling that we no longer honor those ancient pathways in our culture. The “confederation of mutual trust and respect” seems to be missing if we view things differently. Pathways formed by the grace of Wisdom before any footfall walked them. Pathways followed by generation after generation. Pathways worn smooth by the feet that have traveled it before us. Pathways with no rough-edged stones, out-cropping roots or deep, dark pits. Good pathways where we can find an easy, restful journey.
“We will not walk in it!”

I re-read this a couple times. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that we are pretty overt in our rebellion. We proclaim to all, “we will not walk in it”. We will not follow that path. We will not honor those who have walked this path before us. We are wiser. We are educated. We follow the science not an old book full of superstitious, patriarchal, violent, racist, old-fashioned stories.

How often have I refused to walk the ancient pathway that has been at the crossroad in front of me? How often have I rebelled with similar words – whether evasively, silently or loudly? How often, O GOD, have I thought myself so much wiser than those who have traveled this path of life before me? How often, Poppa-GOD?

Sadly, too many – too many.

Unlike Hadassah, I didn’t listen well in my younger days to my watchman – my Mordechai. Sometimes…even now (He just reminded me) … I still don’t listen well as I should. Blessedly, our loving Abba always ALWAYS – ALWAYS sends a Watchman…a Mordechai. A person who tries to show us, talk to us, remind us of the wisdom that comes from His truth and the Truth of His Son.

The Ancient pathways are still there, and we stand at a new crossroad. Like Hadassah, we can stand and walk forward, listening to our Mordechai’s wisdom, or once again choose another path as we say, “We will not walk on it.”
Haman is still there waiting, watching and plotting to make us a “…community of dreadful fear and hate”.

The appointed time is here.

The crossroad is a step away.

The Ancient Paths await.

Mordechai and Haman watch.

The choice is ours to make.

Tabernacling 2021: A Lenten Story

I am procrastinating.

I did not write last night, and I haven’t written all day today. 

I looked at the social media, fussed with things around the house, walked the dog a couple times in the rain, stretched my aching bones, ate more than I should have, fussed with some more stuff in the house, looked at the computer and procrastinated…again.

It all come down to this: I lost part of a chapter.  Somewhere between re-writes and up-dates over the past month, an important part of a chapter vanished, and I am beyond frustrated. 

• Hard copy gone.
• Handwritten copies gone.
• Ancient hard copy gone.

Ugh. Kicking myself in frustration as I open old notebooks looking for those really ancient handwritten copies. But – when you get down to it – well – this is just down right idiocy, and I need to get over it.  (I did find some really old stories that I hadn’t looked at for awhile and a couple poems written for me by others, which were treasure chest memories that made me laughcryandsmile – all at once.)

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” Prov 16:9

This book has been sitting idle – off and on – for almost 30 years. Like many parents, I would read to my kids, sing songs and pray with them before they closed their eyes.  Sometimes, if we didn’t have a book close at hand, I would tell them stories.  Hence, the start of a book emerged.

As the adventures grew and the characters took on their own lives, the kidlets wanted to listen to stories every night as well as read books, sing songs, and say prayers.  Let me tell you, that didn’t always happen.  A wife, mother, teacher wasn’t always up to spinning tales after giggling, talking, and hugging our way to dreamland. So as their reading abilities gained strength, the kidlets eventually asked me to write the stories down, so they could read them when my yawns and heavy eye-lids had more control at bedtime than I did.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” Jn 10:10

Of course, long before there ever was ever a twinkle in my eye of having kidlets, stories and poems existed in my head. I have no idea when they began, but after my mom and dad or on rare occasions – my big brother – read stories, sang songs and said prayers with me, I told myself stories and sang poems in my head until I fell asleep. And when I was really lucky, I think I remember my guardian angel telling me stories of a little cherub named Chrisis.

I’ve had things “disappear” off my computer before.  I’ve probably lost hundreds of hand-written poems, essays and starts of stories. And when I broke up with boyfriends in high school and college, I usually burned them. So – this is nothing new.  When it does happen, I have learned to shrug my shoulders, put on my thinking cap and start again. Almost always, when I get done with that “second/third/fourth/or whatever” re-write, I realize that Poppa God was behind it all the time. I hear Him laugh and that peace that He always gives when we are tabernacling together fills me, and I wonder why I fussed so much.

Thus – being frustrated or angry with myself – is just stupid. I just need to open my heart, throw wide the sides of my tent and invite Him in once again.  He gave me the chapter in the first place, so I know it is still there.  I know basically what I’m missing.  I have the chapters before and after it, so I know where I have to start and where I have to end up. I just need to set my butt in the chair and let the story roll out in a better version.

There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before. –Willa Cather

Lent has begun. The rain and cold are passing through tonight. I have taken one Christmas light from my windows, and I will continue to do so until they are all gone on Palm Sunday.  The Lenten Story began long ago.  It will continue until the Bridegroom calls His Bride home.  #Hedrawethnigh

The Tent of Meeting

VISION 2020: The Chisel

Wasn’t it just Christmas?

Didn’t we just leap into a new decade?

I look at the calendar. The blank pages of the calendar have been chiseled with notations.
Gym.
Friends.
Doctors.
Grands.
Library times.
Snow days.
Goals completed/not completed.

It is all there and yet –
– it has flown by on such swift, silent winds that I –
failed to take note of how many of those carvings etched out this or that in the past few weeks.

“…do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” Matt 10:19-10

With words tumbling around in my mind, I check in with My Father tonight in prayer. It is the birthday of two special Grands who made me a grandma for the first time 20 years ago. It is a day of working with students and reading books. It is a day of walking dogs. It is a day of wonder at the complete joy that seems to surround me amid all the chiseling that has been shaping me and leaving pieces on the ground around me. It is not joy as the world knows nor probably can comprehend, but it is His joy. Joy of being exactly where I am supposed to be at this time in space and eternity.

Years ago when I was teaching in OH, we had to use door stops to keep our doors open. Mine kept disappearing, so when I got a new one, one of my ornerier 8th grader (with a few of his cohorts adding to it) decorated it. I think he was tired of hearing me complain about never having a door stop when I needed it – either that or the door slamming shut in his ears. I know it was on of my ornerier students because on one side, it says “Kaufman’s Quick Lube”, on the other side – in big clear letters – “The Chisel”. When I asked him why those two things, he laughed mumbled something about the one side, but then turned serious as he pointed to the other side, “Because that’s what you do with all of us.” He nodded his head as he went back to his seat. The room was quiet as I turned away and dabbed at my eyes.

I have never forgotten that moment. Little did I realize, at that moment, the chiseling that was going on in my own life. Needless to say, I took the door stop with me when I retired.

Today I pulled out that chisel to hold my door open. The warmth flooded inside. Dogs and cat wandered in and out at will. Curtains swayed. Birds sang. Squirrels chattered (and ate bird food)…bugs slept on (thankfully). However, the end of the week is coming and will bring another northerly wind, so the door stop will return to my bookshelf.

“As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.” Lk 9:51

It seems like I was just reading the Gospel of Luke for the 24 days before Christmas. Now I am opening that epistle and looking at it with the eyes of the Passion. Time passes and Ash Wednesday is – so it seems – suddenly upon us. As ways, Rabbi Yeshua blended the linear and eternal lines into one – especially in Luke’s account,
The teachings became more intense.
The miracles full of the visible and invisible battles of the world. The Transfiguration testimony and blessing.

Prophecies pointed and passionate.

Yeshua Mashiach is my chisel. Although He has been my chisel all my life, His tools have been carving more deeply these days – in ways I couldn’t have imagined a few months back. His words, love and grace purposely defining a new shape. Cutting away the marred pieces to reveal the faith that He saw hidden away.

As Lent begins, it is time to honor in prayer and sacrifice, the time of Rabbi Yeshua’s earthly chisel coming to an end. He purposely and lovingly turned His feet towards Jerusalem, all-the-while knowing what was ahead. The good new is He also knew His eternal chiseling would continue to carve and illuminate whenever anyone asked Him to walk through their door.

“Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” Lk 9:57

[personal images]

LENTEN INSIGHT 2019: #2

When coughing, sniffling and feeling overall yukky, just sitting in a chair and watching your preacher on TV (plus a few others), a few movies and a couple of your favorite TV shows seems like a very good idea.

 

Have I mentioned that I hate being sick?

 

I had all these plans for the weekend. A weekend in the high 50’s, bright sun, Carolina blue sky and perfect for getting those early spring clean-up/planting chores on the road to completion – not to mention a few lazy turns on the patio swing.

 

Have I mentioned that I really hate being sick?

 

So – here I am on a totally “nothing accomplished at all” Sunday night, drinking my cabernet, munching on a cracker or two while a warm cat sits on my lap loving me in her own special way.

 

And…

That is when it happens.

God speaks.

In the sweetest way ever.

 

I laugh and

Sit down in the middle of doing nothing

Until I realize –

I may not have accomplished anything this weekend,

but He accomplished a whole lot in me.

 

Sometimes –

We just need to…

Be slowed down.

Slowed to a bumpy stop…

And notice how broken our path has become.

 

Sometimes –

Coughing out the gunk that has accumulated,

Blowing the stuffiness that clogs our thoughts,

And looking up

Reminds us…

It’s not our world or our plans…

 

It’s His.

 

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”~Jn 3:16-17

 

I’m still blowing the gunk out of my way,

Rubbing Vick’s on my feet,

But somehow –

Feeling a whole lot better as I look at my hiking shoes.

 

However –

 

If I don’t quite get those shoes on tomorrow,

It just means I have another day.

Another day to be still.

Another day to listen.

Another day for my Father’s voice to speak.

Another day to be loved unconditionally.

 

Despite my broken path,

Despite clogged ears,

Despite my near-sightedness,

Despite my whining.

I am His.

 

Can’t say I love the way He knocked me off my path this weekend, but as a teacher in this world, I understand teaching methods that work the best often are the ones that force us to find our knees and lean on a Rock in a dark garden. A Rock that is ever so much stronger than we are.

 

It is what it is. We are a stubborn lot, afterall.

 

We just have to remember the Voice that continues to seek companionship as He wait to walk with us in His garden.I may still be coughing, but His voice caught my attention. I will get to tending my earthly garden eventually. The yard will get cleaned eventually. And Shadow-Spooky-Sparkle will – eventually – get off my lap so I can get up and go to bed.

 

This broken path can be smoothed and straightened.

This cold and brain fog will dissipate in the Sonshine.

His WORD, love and grace is eternal.

Easter is just around His corner –

We just have to roll away a few stones.

 

“Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,

Guard the bed that I lay on.

Two to guard and to pray

And me to wake at break of day.” 

  [personal photo – Golden book of Hymns, c. 1950]

LIGHTS OUT #3

Advent lights are all put away for now. Spring is supposed to be in the air, but right now – not so much.  The gas log are on, the small heater is pumping out heat and my hands are curled into the sleeves of my sweatshirt…when I’m not typing. Feels like I should be putting candles in the window instead of taking them out of the window. Errrr….

Cold weather makes me very lazy. All I want to do is curl up with a blankie, a book, and my babies…well…not all the babies. Big Lab girls cut off the circulation in my legs if they sit on my lap for more than a minute or two. Luckily, Shadow-Spooky-Sparkle cat wanted to cuddle tonight, and I could tuck my hands under her for extra warmth. Awwe….

I really shouldn’t be whining. After all, when there are earthquakes in Colorado, snowstorms north and east of us, tornadoes to the south of us, I should be able to handle a couple of nights in the mid-30’s. Errrr…

“Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”~Matt 26:41

Sometimes I just have to remind myself to get up and move in the Awesome Spirit of GOD instead of being content to sit in the Whining Spirit of the World. So tonight I took myself back to the piano. Played some of my favorite songs and hymns, letting the melodies and the memories swirl around me like a warm blanket. Awwe…

“[The Lord] loves, and cares, and sympathizes, and understands, and seeks, and saves, and forgives, and helps, and encourages, and walks by our side… taking care of us in life when we can’t take care of ourselves.”~W. A. Criswell

The Advent lights may all be packed away. There may be a deep chill in the air. There may even be storms wreaking havoc on all my horizons. But – and this may be the “Awwe” part of this “Fat Tuesday” insight so read this slowly:

GOD’S      GOT      THIS!!

Enough said…

Ponderings His WORD…

Feet walking His path…

Following His Light…

Singing His Praise.

AWE.

“…And I’m going there to see my Saviour,
to sing His praise forevermore. 
I’m only going over Jordan,
I’m going home; I’m going home.”~“Wayfaring Stranger” 1935 [google images]

LIGHTS OUT #1

“HE can turn the tides and calm the angry sea.
HE alone decides who writes a symphony.
HE lights every star that makes the darkness bright’
HE keeps watch all through each long and lonely night.”

The wonderful thing about having the house and time to myself is digging into some of my stacks of sheet music and sitting down at the piano. The fingers are not so limber these days. The mono-vision contacts sometimes cause a blurry second or two as I turn a page. The voice is not consistent – some days good – some days cracky – some days not there at all. And yet – once the fingers begin the familiar chords, the body relaxes and joy radiates from the inside out.

“HE still finds the time to hear a child’s first prayer;
Saint or sinner calls and always finds Him there
Though it makes Him sad to see the way we live,
HE’ll always say “I forgive”.

The other night, I stumbled across one of mom’s old songs. It was in Reader’s Digest Faith Songs, but it wasn’t the same as I remembered. The harmonizing power and sequences were missing from that digested form. So I got up and started digging into a stack of sheet music that I hadn’t pulled out in years. Songs my mother sang. Songs I played for her when she sang at different venues. Songs I played so often that I could see the cover page in my mind almost 60 years later.

“HE can touch a tree and turn the leaves to gold.
HE knows every lie that you and I have told.
Though it makes him sad to see the way we live,
HE’ll always say, “I forgive.”

This is also the time of year when I begin pulling the candles out of the windows and putting them away until next Halloween. The batteries have been slowly dying as if they have known all along that Lent is almost here. One candle a day until the windows are bare. A rainy week makes it even bleaker as night closes in, and the windows no longer flicker their meager light into a world that grows darker and darker – in more ways than one.

Darkness.
Bleakness.
Emptiness.

“HE can grant a wish,
Or make a dream come true.
HE can paint the clouds,
And turn the gray to blue.”

Rabbi Yeshua knew Darkness well. HE knew his children stumbled in darkness. HE knew they also trembled in darkness. But fear not – HE also remembered the beautiful world that HE had created. The world that was meant to be full of Light for the children His Father loved beyond compare. So HE prepared the world for this darkness. HE presented His lit candles to shine in eye-windows of His People’s world, and then offered them to all the people who wanted to light a candle in His name.

Light in the face of Darkness. 
Light that reflects on all it touches.
Light that shines even brighter with His Word.

“HE alone knows where
To find the rainbow’s end.
HE alone can see
What lies beyond the bend.”

Before HE touched the tree, He knew the end. HE had already looked around the bend as HE shined His Light even brighter.

I tried to remember that tonight as I removed the first candle from my windows and later as I sang this old song. It is still raining and not a star in sight. Darkness has gathered and hovers close as I walk the dogs one last time. My feet stumble a little.  My trembles curl my toes in my shoes. I feel His sadness within my own tonight. And yet – I fear not – even though HE knows every lie, every dark spot in my life, HE has already seen around the bend. His Grace lights my steps and I do no fear.

HE has already prepared us. 
HE has presented the Light.
He has put down the Darkness.
He has pour out His Light upon us.

“HE can touch a tree
And turn the leaves to gold.
HE knows every lie
That you and I have told. 
Though it makes Him sad to see the way we live,
HE’ll always says, “I’ll forgive.”~Songwriters: Jack Richards / Richard Mullan

https://www.last.fm/music/The+Righteous+Brothers/_/He

 

 

BREADCRUMBS: Little Things

For the past few months, we have not been able to figure out why the dogs go crazy when we let them out at night. They run into the side yard and start barking. The youngster, torn ACL completely forgotten, runs into the woods and comes back with the biggest smile on her face.

One of my friends came over last night and as we sat outside, kitties started appearing at our feet. One, two, three – We petted them and enjoyed their company as we talked. Later, I remained outside for a little bit and started counting again. There was a herd of kitties.

Our yard was a kitty amusement park.

You see – I haven’t taken down my last Christmas light that shines into our woods. It is one of those star projectors with dancing red and green lights. They roam all over the trees, bushes, shed and grass right off our porch. Hubby and I enjoy watching those silly lights bounce around. Apparently, the kitties do, too.

So last night, I spent some time watching kitties run hither and yon while pouncing on every light they could see. Laughter gurgled. I closed my eyes and let the little kitties tamp down the sadness of our broken world and resurrect that peace that the Shepherd always brings.

It is in the little things, right?

“He made everything beautiful in its time.”~Ecc 3:11

Prayer doesn’t come easy for me. Since I was little, I haven’t felt like I am good at it. My mind skips around to everything under the sun except being still. It even as the audacity to yak at me when I already told it a thousand time to shut up because I need to listen. Even after reading tons of – alright – maybe not tons – – but quite a few – devotionals on how to pray, I still end up with a stumbling tongue and a frustrated head.

It is then – in that choice moment – that I start giving thanks.

Thanks for a stumbling tongue that makes me work a little harder. 
Thanks for role models in my life who can string pearls as they pray. 
Thanks for the WORD who lifts me up from my bruised knees by His grace. 
Thanks to the Holy Spirit who groans – probably with a chuckle at how often she has to jump in for me – speaking the words I cannot find. 
Thanks for a millisecond of quiet from my brain every now and then when I can hear My Shepherd call my name. 
Thanks for a Savior who carved my true name in the palm of His hand and cradles me when there is sadness beyond explanation.

Thanks for the little things.

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”~Phil 4:6-9 

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