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LOOKIN’ FOR LOVE

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , on April 4, 2014| 5 Comments »

Looking for love in too many places. And some of us never find love because we’re looking in all the wrong places.

Love isn’t glitz and glamour. Love isn’t found in things, people, or the backseat of a car. Nor on the beaches of the world at spring break. Love isn’t a physical act. No, that’s hormones. And those feelings change as often as the weather in Texas.
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Divorce rates in and out of the church confirm we’ve all believed the lie. We’ve all rebelled against God’s Word and Satan sits on the sidelines thumbing his nose at God while over fifty-four million babies have been sucked from the womb into abortionists’ sinks.

Love is belonging. A commitment. A relationship.DSCF2349

Love is Jesus.

The tragedy is, we don’t have the ability to love without Him.

Scripture tells us: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?” (Jeremiah 17:9 NKJ) And instructs, “For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies. These are the things which defile a man…” (Matthew 15:19 NKJ).

Yes, the thoughts of our minds originate in our hearts. And our hearts are diseased from the beginning. We need a transplant. And Jesus is the only Physician on call. No heart, not yours nor mine, is beyond the Father’s mercy and grace to forgive. Jesus died for our sins—past, present and future.

Life-changing choice begins when we lay it all on the table. Sacrifice all. Change all. Give up all of ones self for Jesus, because He is love.

But that means change, and we don’t like the pain of change. And that’s the dilemma.

We don’t comprehend there’s only one place real love abides.
It’s more fun, in the beginning, to live life on the playground. Riding the thrill rides, pretending to be happy, but our souls sob for true love.

DSCF0947The pristine beaches of Pensacola, this week were the perfect example of this evil delusion. Thousands of students invaded the sandy beaches, committing in broad daylight unspeakable acts of lewd, drunken, lust filled behaviors, bringing shame upon themselves, their families, and this nation. Actions I would not begin to describe here. If you watched Fox News you saw the account.

Yet these young people were too consumed with vile amusement and alcohol to understand the impact of their choices. Their mouths hurled vulgar disrespect toward their parents and their own bodies. And their images will be forever recorded on social media.

And their parents footed the bill.

Yes, this rebellion began in the garden, long ago. But the same act is repeated every day in the majority of households throughout our land by parents refusing to parent. Refusing to follow God’s guidelines for health, happiness, and holiness. Refusing to remember their child has only one mother and father—the child doesn’t need another friend.

Lyin’ in bed on Sunday morning, mom and dad, you hear the voice inside saying: “Sunday is my only day to sleep. I’m tired and I need rest. I’ll take the kids to church next week. But next week never comes.

Because it’s easier to listen to the alluring images of our illusions than to get excited about getting up, showering, dressing, and going to listen to the choir and the preacher at the local church.
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So we roll over and go back to sleep. Unaware we’ve just missed the intersection leading to light, life, and love. And Truth.
We crawl out of bed an hour or two later, still tired and irritable, to face mountains of dirty laundry, whiny children or hormonal teens, and a husband more frustrated than we are. And another day of turmoil and chaos begins—just like yesterday, but ratcheted up a notch.

And we’re tired because we’ve vicariously tried to escape. Seeking love in the latest block-buster movie, on evening soap operas, or indecent sit-coms that proclaim immorality and abomination and have no business in the home. Entertainment that day after day teaches children and teens, luring them into the deceptive trap that played out on the Florida beaches this week.

Unaware a battle rages for our families and our lives. A battle between love and hate. Between God and Satan.

Satan has thrown off the disguises he’s worn for centuries and launched a frontal attack on God, marriage, the family, the Bible, and Christians. The world is in a free fall and this roaring lion roams the earth seeking souls to devour. And you and your family are on his menu.

And we still have no appetite for the answer. And our children have no conception of sin or the fact their sins offend a holy and righteous God. And they don’t understand God calls them to be holy. They don’t believe those who reject Jesus will spend eternity in a real place called hell—separated from God and the love of a Savior who died so they don’t have to. Because we didn’t teach them.
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But you can’t teach what you don’t know.

While there’s time, because Jesus is coming soon, please pick up your Bible, turn to the Book of John and begin reading the exciting news of Jesus’ love. And Sunday, when the alarm goes off, determine beforehand to get up and go to the nearest gathering place of love—your local church. No, those who attend aren’t perfect, but God is there and He’s still working on all of us.

If you come seeking Jesus, He will write His love story in your heart, in your family, and for your future.

I know, because He did that in my life one Sunday in January of 1989.

“Now consider this, you who forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver. Whoever offers praise glorifies Me. And to him who orders his conduct aright I will show the salvation of God” (Psalm 50:22-23 NKJ).

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KERSPLAT–INTO THE MUD PUDDLES OF LIFE

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , , , on March 22, 2014| Leave a Comment »

“Well, I found him.” My husband left the house an hour before swallowed in aggravation. Now his eyes sparked a twinkle and a slight smile tickled the corners of his lips.

I look behind him. “Where?”

A grin captured his face. “Oh no. First you’ve got to promise you won’t be upset.”

Too late. With that statement I’m upset. “Why didn’t you bring him home? Is he all right??”

“Come on, I’ll show you—after you promise.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “Promise?”

“Yes. I promise. But hurry up. We’re late.”

I followed my husband out the door, down the drive, up the street, and over to the edge of the woods.DSCF4560

“Where are we going? And where is Michael?” Every step ratcheted my angst.

“Shhhh.” Husband stepped carefully and put finger to his lips. “Be quiet. We’re almost there.”

We followed the dirt trail another few minutes before I heard DSCF4561shouts, giggles, and the KERSPLAT of filthy bayou water, punctuated by objects larger than a small rock dancing across this muddy excuse for a river.

Stifling a chuckle, this man I married pointed proud toward the boys.

Eyes blazing and hands on hips, I became Sergeant Mom. “What are you—”

“Honey, they’re just being boys. Let ‘em be. So what if we’re late?”

Stepping closer, I saw my son grab hold of a gnarled old rope and swing from an overhanging tree branch. He turned lose and dropped into this yucky swimming hole, wiggling and shouting ‘til he plunged into the brown sludge.

My first impulse was to drag him kicking and screaming home. But DSCF4565bless his heart, husband grabbed my hand and pulled me away.
Two days later son woke up with a dreadful earache. A trip to the doctor confirmed an ear infection. Hmmm. Wonder how he contracted that?

Dinner that evening was not a pleasant family gathering. And future swims in the bayou were outlawed by Sergeant Mom. Father sat quiet, but I didn’t miss the wink and smile exchange between those two culprits.

From this side of problem, I wondered if those brief moments of fun were worth the pain suffered.

Life can be like that. Surrounded by dirty swimming holes. Puddles of mud luring us to jump in, stomp around, and have a good time.

Murky pools of gossip disguised as prayer requests. Roasting DSCF4567God’s anointed ones over Sunday lunch. Binges of toxic foods and alcohol consumption that leave harmful effects long after they are consumed. Secret addictions we’d die if anyone knew. Pornography. Adultery. Anger. Unforgiveness. Covetousness. The list is endless. And all are prevalent within the church. There’s sin in the camp, folks.

Yep, we all surrender to quick dips in puddles of sin. Then we hop out, soap up, and rinse off. Thinking we’re squeaky clean—no one will ever know. But sin’s nasty germs tuck themselves in dark corners of our hearts and minds. Places no one but me, you, and God can see. Left to thrive, they multiply and manifest themselves physically, mentally, and emotionally.

God calls us to holiness.

I know I struggle with a critical spirit and with exchanging the important for the urgent. Before my eyelids open in the morning my brain is already racing through the days schedule. My feet hit the floor, and if I don’t stop and take “…every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (II Corinthians 10:5 NAS), I end up leaving my Lord Jesus in the dust of my self-created turmoil. Pride in my ways, my thoughts, my plans.

And BTW, the sin of pride is on God’s top seven hate list. (Proverbs 6:16-19 NKJ) Have I overcome all my dirty ponds? Oh my, no. I’m better than I used to be, but not as good as God’s going to make me when all my mud puddles have been conquered.

Yes, we are saved eternally from the penalty of sin, but we must DSCF3337daily wash with the soap and water of the Word. We must take time, every day, to sit before the Lord and listen. We must praise and worship Him for who He is and for what He’s done. Only then can The Holy Spirit produce eternal fruit in our lives.

What puddle of mud whispers your name? Please share with us your struggles and successes as confirmation and encouragement to other readers that Jesus never leaves or forsakes us—even when we choose to dive into bayous of sin. “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and toDSCF3351 cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9 NAS).

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endures forever” (Psalm 136 NKJ).

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SHATTERED, SCATTERED, BROKEN

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , , on March 13, 2014| 4 Comments »

A beautiful lady appearing on the cooking channel this week made a scrumptious looking orange pudding cake and I thought that looks yummy. I can make that recipe.

So, last evening I gathered the ingredients and combined them, step-by-step. I placed the ramekins in a baking dish and filled the container with water for their thirty minute beauty-bath.

Fifteen minutes into the cooking process I turned around and, holy-moley, hisses of steam gushed out the seams in the oven door, followed by an explosion, and the sound of shattering, breaking glass.

I yanked open the door and gawked at a baking dish in a zillion DSCF4450pieces on the racks, falling into the sizzling water filling the bottom of my oven. A fine layer of glass slivers lay scattered across the top of the partially baked cakes.

Slamming the door shut I reached for the cancel switch, punched it, and stood cemented to the floor. Shocked. Conferring with myself I asked, What happened? What should I do? And answered, Can’t do anything ‘til the temperature cools.

Oh my beautiful cakes. What a waste. What a mess.

I cleaned up the fragments, slivers and pieces of glass after dinner and thought how much worse it could have been. The dish could have held a grits, eggs, and cheese—not just water.

Thank you, Lord.

This morning I described the accident to a friend and she asked, “Did you put hot or cool water in the dish?”

“Why, I put boiling water in the dish. Aren’t you supposed to?”

“No.” She said, “The temperature difference must have caused theDSCF4452 dish to break.”

“Fifteen minutes into the process?” I asked.

I’m so thankful God doesn’t plunge us into boiling water to transform us into what He intends us to become. However, the moment we come to Jesus, confessing, repenting, and trusting Him DSCF2349to save us and wash us clean from the guilt of sin, the water bath of our sanctification begins.

Day by day—moment by moment, God controls the temperature of the conforming process, just like the silversmith purifying silver.

The smith heats the silver warmer and warmer, little by little, skimming the dross as it separates and floats to the top. Always controlling the heat. Not too hot, nor too cold. Watching as the impurities come to the surface, he scoops them out of the pot. Over and over this process is repeated until the silversmith can gaze into the pot and see his reflection in the purified silver.
Just like Jesus does with each one of us.

Does the refining process at times seem unbearable? Oh yes. And the whirlwinds of life tragic? Certainly. But God has promised He will never leave us or forsake us and “God causes all things together for good to those that love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son…” (Romans 8:28-29 NAS). And all includes even the bad stuff.

I’m not a quick-study and sometimes I don’t listen or follow directions. As evidenced by the mess in my oven last night. But my Father in Heaven is merciful and patient. Scripture tells me, “The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, forDSCF3352 His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23 NAS).

He shapes and molds my character everyday, changing me into the image of His Son. But I often don’t learn ‘til He turns up the heat, allowing painful situations to surface, sending me running back to my Savior and Lord—Jesus Christ.

Have explosions of disobedience and rebellion left shattered slivers of sin’s fall-out scattered over your not-done-yet image in the mirror? Please don’t despair, God’s grace, mercy, and love is extended to you this day.

By the confession of your mouth and repentance of your heart, allow the water-bath of His Word and the fire of trials to bring the dross to surface. He gathers the sins of His own people, DSCF4115casting them behind His back—into the depths of the sea. Never to be remembered again.

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DUMPSTER-DIVING

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , on March 5, 2014| 12 Comments »

A scream, like only a teenaged girl can vocalize, sliced the stillness of the afternoon. I raced toward the bedroom where her petulant voice echoed, “MO—THER!”

Daughter stood in the doorway of her closet swatting, scratching, and stripping off clothes. “Ants!” she shouted and smacked herTop hands up and down her face, neck, and body. “Everywhere. In my closet. In my clothes. Do something!”

“The kitchen, under the sink.” I motioned to the horrified girlfriend plastered against the opposite wall, “Get my rubber gloves and a plastic bag.”

I opened the plastic bag she offered at arms-length and stuffed shoes, socks, shirts, and an assortment of objects attempting to find out where the nasty creatures were coming from. And then, there it was. Laying on the bottom of her junky closet floor, underneath a hubble of rubble—HER GYM BAG.

“But Mom—” Her face colored sorry.

I glared first at her, then at the angry ants. Pulling open the bag I found they had built an ant condominium around her left-over candy bars, crackers, and fruit. For how long? Who knows?

“Open the window and push out the screen,” I ordered and heaved the ants, rotted fruit, and gym bag out the window. “Get the bug spray, the vacuum, and anything else you need to clean up this pigsty and don’t you ever—”

Years have passed and I laugh about the incident now, but isn’t that where we live every day? In a garbage heap of sins and lies that sting, bite, and torture. A place where enemies lurk to demoralize and destroy our families. A place that can be fatal. And a place where we shrug our shoulders passively and dumpster-dive into the growing heap of filth, rather than clean up the rubbish.

But we’re not the first, God’s ancient people did that too. In Jerusalem.

God said their nation was beyond repair because they persecuted the prophets and continually rebelled and sinned against a holy and righteous God. So God sent the Babylonian army, under the rule of King Nebuchadnezzar in 605 B.C., to take Judah captive for seventy years. In the final siege, the king’s army took the rest of the Jews to Babylon and burned the temple, Jerusalem, and tore down the walls of the holy city and burned its gates.

Seventy years later, King Cyrus of Persia signed a decree that allowed the captives to return to Jerusalem, just like God said they would. They began to rebuild the temple, but enemies had moved into the land who refused to accept the returning refugees. The temple work was halted for fourteen years and finally finished in 516 B.C. But the city was a mess. The walls were still broken and the houses destroyed. Ninety-three years after the Jews returned to Jerusalem, with the exception of the temple, the holy city—God’s chosen city—was a dump.

‘Til God called Nehemiah in 445 B.C. to return and rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. Nehemiah prayed and fasted and God gave him a plan and, together with the help of the Lord, under the leadership of Nehemiah, the refugees rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem in fifty-two days.

How did they do it?

Nehemiah instructed each family to clean the rubble and rebuild the portion of the wall in front of their home. If you read the 3rd Chapter of Nehemiah you will find the repeated phrase “next to them,” “next to him,” “after them.”

Ah, that’s the answer. God’s people working shoulder to shoulder. Choosing to be holy. Choosing to clean up their life, their family, and their home. But that would mean choosing to denounce and repent of the deep, dark valley of lies that have deceived our minds and hearts and tuning our ears to hear, believe, and stand for God’s truths.

Because America has become a garbage landfill. A dump of everything ungodly.

We face hoards of voices screaming their lies every day: Homosexuality. Abortion. Same sex marriage. Drugs. Murder. No consequences for sin. No hell. All roads lead to God. Everyone goes to heaven. The list is endless.

And yet we knowingly permit ourselves to be lulled, in the darkness of a movie theater or at home in front of our wide screens, by pretty people, gushing half-truths, involved in abhorrent behavior, while beautiful background music sears and dulls our conscience. And we’re not smart enough to discern a half-truth is a whole lie.

America needs tribes of Nehemiahs. Men and women, and young people ready to become valiant warriors for God. Warriors who will stand, focused, and ready to obey their Lord. Servants who will lead God’s people in cleaning up the rubble at their house, throwing it on the trash heap, and rebuilding walls of righteousness and justice and holiness around this nation. One house at a time.

“Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people whom He has chosen for His own inheritance” (Psalm 33:12 NAS).

Trust God—And clean house. Your house. Before we too are beyond repair.

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In the Blink of An Eye

Posted in A Nation Divided on February 25, 2014| Leave a Comment »

Most helpful information to handle those blink-of-the-eye emotions. Thank you Kathleen.

atimeformiracles's avatarAlzheimer's: Hope and Help for Caregivers

Most caregivers discover that’s just how quickly moods can change. In the proverbial blink of an eye, those with Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia can go from sullen and uncooperative to relaxed and quiet. Just as quickly, conversation and smiles may become shouting and restlessness. Obviously, it’s not too challenging for caregivers to keep up with positive change. But how do we shift gears when a positive mood suddenly becomes negative?

  • Listen

After a morning of easy talk, easy smiles, easy cooperation, Mom scowls, first at me, then at the plate I’ve just set before her. I study the plate but find nothing that might have upset her.

“It’s just lunch, Mom,” I tell her.

No doubt she can’t hear my upbeat, positive voice over her own shouting. “What is that? I don’t want it. I don’t eat here.”

sun and lightning

I’ve learned to pay close attention to what Mom says…

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TREASURES, TRASH AND MEMORIES

Posted in A Nation Divided on February 21, 2014| Leave a Comment »

TREASURES, TRASH AND MEMORIES.

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TREASURES, TRASH AND MEMORIES

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , on February 21, 2014| 8 Comments »

I stood in the middle of our third bedroom, in just enough space for my two feet, and surveyed the neglected collection of plastic tubs filled with fabric, beads and thread, boxes of memories, and piles of liter. The floor must be under there. Somewhere.
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Dust had accumulated on everything with a flat surface. The closet was stuffed to capacity, and the second bedroom looked no better.

What a garbage heap. Will I never learn?

In a few weeks our grandson will be here and would need a place to dump his suitcase and lay his head at night.

There was only one solution. The words I swore would never come out of my mouth again—GARAGE SALE.
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Sigh.

So, I’ve spent the past two weeks, separating, organizing, and boxing trash, treasures, and memories. Agonizing over which stack to sentence each discarded object. I’ve troubled my own trouble by putting off this arduous task month, after month, after month.

The mission now encompasses the entire house. Every room is upside-down-and-backwards. And tomorrow—Garage Sale Day—looms like a gigantic storm for which I am totally unprepared.

I have miscellaneous stacks of items by the back door, waiting to be carted onto the driveway as soon as the sun rises in the morning. And I dread the process.

I laughed, imagining the size of the camel caravan when Abram and Sarah packed all their stuff (and that’s what my translation calls it—stuff) and set out on a journey to only the Lord knew where?

Then I thought about Nehemiah going back to Jerusalem. He set out by himself, at night, to survey the damage to the walls of the Holy City. As he passed the first two burned out gates he came to a place where the rubble was so deep his horse couldn’t make it through.

That’s how I felt as I looked at the growing inventory of treasure, trash and memories. An insurmountable mountain. How would I get everything out the door? But I’d come too far to back out now.DSCF4422

Sometimes our hearts and minds also become so mired with the junk of this world and stuff from our pasts, we can’t make it over, around, or through the brain clutter or the heart stutters. And we’re forced to either stop and clean our spiritual house or run the risk of sliding into a quagmire of addiction, anger and bitterness, or depression.

Take heart if you’re there, dear friend. God promises to give us courage as we allow Him shine the light of His love into those dark, scary places.

But we must open the closets.

And that first closet is prayer. Your prayer closet. Perhaps the only prayer you can utter at this point is “Help me, God.” I did that in 1988 when our marriage was in trouble, and those were the most powerful and quickly answered words I’ve ever uttered. God did exactly what I asked. He reconstructed our lives and our home.

Then you must pull out and dust off your Bible. Place it by your favorite chair and commit to a definite time, each day, to read and study God’s Word. The interruptions may seem unending, but spending time in His presence will be the best investment you can make—I know. I’ve been there.

And then to listen. Listen as the Spirit, through the Word, nudges your thought process. That still small voice inside reminding you of rebellion, disobedience, and unfaithfulness you’ve let slip in unnoticed.

Confess it. Whenever the Spirit convicts, right then and there. Tell God you’re sorry. Ask His forgiveness and know that because of the blood of Jesus Christ, shed for your sin, God puts your sin behind His back. He casts your sins into the depths of the sea. As far from Him as the East is from the West. Forever.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us” (I John 1: 9-10 NAS).

Then move on to dismantle the piles of past pain you’ve stashed for safe keeping in the dark alleys of your heart. Hurts you occasionally pull out, when reminded, to rehearse and prod these grief’s, injustices, or injuries, to resuscitating and keeping them alive.

Rip those secret things from the shadows. Hold each one in your open palms and with arms lifted, give them to God. Tell Him they’re too painful to keep and allow Him to take them away.

Will it be hard?

Yes, but God promises:

“…I will never desert you, nor will I ever forsake you…” (Hebrews 13:5 NAS).

When we clutch our fingers around painful emotions, holding onto them like buried treasure, it just hurts more when God pries them from our hands.

Just like empty closets need to be filled with clean, fresh linens, we must trust God to wash, make-like-new, and fill those stinky strongholds in our hearts and minds with His light and His grace.

Then perhaps we will be more selective in what we choose to hang on to in the future. And then again, next time, maybe we won’t wait so long between cleanings—physical or spiritual. Because grief and pain don’t sell at garage sales. Everyone already has enough.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:19-21 NAS).

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DON’T PACK YOUR UNDERWEAR!

Posted in A Nation Divided on February 7, 2014| 4 Comments »

DON'T PACK YOUR UNDERWEAR!.

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DON’T PACK YOUR UNDERWEAR!

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , on February 7, 2014| 22 Comments »

The only words worse to hear than “I’m sorry, your flight has been cancelled,” are the ones that say, “Ma’am, we don’t know the location of your luggage.” And last Wednesday at Ft. Lauderdale’s Airport, three hundred twenty-five miles from our destination, we heard both schedule-shattering-statements.DSCF4389

My husband went directly to car rental, while I attempted to retrieve our luggage. All Jacksonville bound passengers stood and waited. An hour passed while three claims agents searched records, made phone calls, and searched the plane for our luggage.

With no success, one threw her hands in the air and said, “I have no idea where any of your bags are. We have no numbers on them. They’re probably sitting on a runway in Houston or on their way to Baltimore.”

My heart plunged to my boots as I realized during the chaos I misplaced my jacket that held a pin I had given to our daughter DSCF4418the Christmas before she died. Distraught would have described me. Perfectly.

I’m sure many of you feel my pain, but we’re first-timers. I’d love to tell you my reaction was one of mercy and grace. Not so much.

Now I understand why those hundred pound sweet things tote their roller bags down the plane aisles, hoist them to the seats but can’t lift and smash them into tiny overhead bins. I’ve viewed them with disdain through the years and checked all my luggage. Never again.

In the rain and at night, it took seven hours to drive to Jacksonville. And the reality of the situation soaked into my brain.

I had no clean clothes. No cosmetics. No clean underwear. Not DSCF4356even a comb or toothbrush. And we had to be at a celebration early next day at an Air Force base in Georgia where my son was to take his “fini” flight in his A10 Warthog.

The jeans and sweater on my body were it. I had lost my jacket. So I wallowed in poor-pitiful-pearl mode, contemplating what I would look like by morning.

In the middle of my despair that small voice whispered, “Think about those wandering the streets tonight who only have the clothes on their back.” I know, I whined, but I have to go to a party tomorrow and that brand new outfit I bought to wear is who-knows-where. How could I possibly go in the clothes I had on? What would everyone think?

We arrived at 10 PM to spend the night with my BFF, Pat, and her husband, Rick. Pat had a pot of chicken soup on the stove, our bed turned down, and pajamas laid out for both my husband and me. With my last conscious thought and a full tummy Wednesday night I thanked the Lord Jesus for caring friends.

In the wee hours of the morning I startled awake and scriptures began pouring through my mind:

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety upon Him, because He cares for you” (I Peter 5:6-7 NAS).

Hope was resurrected. I shouldn’t be anxious. God knew the DSCF4347location of our luggage. Maybe the bags would be at the airport in the morning and we could pick them up on the way out of town. Then Paul’s words came:

“I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:11-13 NAS).

My stomach knotted. Anxiousness rushed back in and I knew the luggage would not be there in the morning. And I cried, “but God—”

And these words flashed neon.

“And if we have food and covering, with these we shall be content” (I Timothy 6:8 NAS).

I lay there stunned as my whole being digested God’s words and I squirmed. His words hung in my mind, reprimanding me. My whole focus had been on me. My new outfit. My trip. My son. And I was ashamed.

Glancing around the darkened room, familiar, treasured objects from years past caught my attention and reminded me I was warm, dry, fed, and with friends who loved me and I loved them. Memories of our families and past good times lined up and marched single file through my melting heart. And I thanked God for Pat’s warm jammies and she and Rick’s friendship.

Next morning Pat laid out a lovely lavender sweater and jacket for me to use. In the bathroom she shared her stash of makeup samples and we left for the festivities, relatively put together.

This day was not about me, it was a celebration of our son, Michael, and his successes. Who would even notice what I had on. And I flushed that streak of pride down the toilet.
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It was a grand day with family, giving honor to our son and daughter-in-love, and to the men who give their lives for our freedom to be Americans. And I was grateful to them and to the Lord God. And delighted to be included in this Air Force tradition.DSCF4399

Late Thursday evening our luggage was located, in Jacksonville, and we picked it up on our way back to Ft. Lauderdale to return the rent car and catch the returning flight to Dallas. As we pulled into the Lauderdale airport I told Dick I wanted to check lost and found for my jacket. He said, “Honey, don’t get your hopes up.”

A very nice young man asked if he could help. I gave him a description of the jacket and the pin. And he returned in a moment with my jacket, complete with the pin. I cried tears of gratitude and joy! He smiled and said, “And it was a passenger who found it.”

Yes, a passenger who may or may not have known that God guided DSCF4384their heart and actions that day to teach this old lady to wait on the Lord. He’s in control of all things. I am not.

However, next time I fly I will not pack my underwear, nor my cosmetics, nor a clean change of clothes. And I’ll be first in line this weekend to purchase one of those detestable roller bags to stuff in those crowded overhead bins—just in case.

I know many of you reading this blog have likewise suffered painful experiences that taught you humbling lessons. Please share them with us in the box marked comments. God allows us to go through hard lessons so we can share what He’s taught us.

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THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , , on January 28, 2014| Leave a Comment »

The moment our feet hit the floor in the morning we have the freedom to make choices. Every day, from morning ‘til we pull the covers under our chin at night, we make countless choices.

We choose our attire for the day—physically, mentally and spiritually. Every time you interact with another person on the planet, you choose your course of behavior. The problem with this statement is we’ve allowed ourselves to be desensitized to the fact we are making choices.

I’ll give you an example. Mom and Dad are seated in front of HDTV with their thirteen year old daughter and fifteen year old son. What should be an X-rated soap opera covers the screen and they all sit and watch the entire program.

Mom thinks, these are things the kids probably shouldn’t be seeing and hearing. But quickly shuts that voice off and counters, they probably hear much worse than this at school. And dad sits in silence too. Watching the garbage week after week after week. And we wonder why daughter and son think it’s okay to choose to have sex, drugs, and alcohol with whomever they choose, whenever the urge manifests.

And Dad and Mom, you’ve taught them by your silence.

I laid in bed this morning, talking to the Lord about the state of our nation. Thinking how we’ve just recognized Sanctity of Life Sunday, at least some churches did. My heart and mind mourned over the catastrophic numbers of precious infants murdered—ripped from the safety of their mother’s wombs—under the guise of choice.

And the Spirit convicted my heart—you’re lukewarm!

I gasped and my heart shattered. Lukewarm? Me?

Right!

And so are you brothers and sisters in Christ.

We’ve lived with this abomination so long we’ve become desensitized to the horrific nature of this crime. We’ve grown calloused and accustomed to politically correct, inane words like, A woman’s right to choose.

Each woman, and man, does have the right to choose—whether to clothe themselves in provocative attire that stimulates the opposite sex. The choice to engage in behavior that arouses fiery passions in another. The choice to take what God calls holy and make the union profane. Yes, each person involved makes that decision. That choice.

What the woman or man does not have the right to do is choose the consequences of their choice. Only God does. And the consequence is very often a baby. Not a fetus. A flesh and blood replica of themselves. With their DNA. Their features. And their reaction very often is murder. Getting rid of the evidence of the sin.

And church, we’ve approved this gross infanticide by our silence.

My heart is twisted and wrung out this morning over my failure to pray daily for those on the front-lines of this battle. My failure to financially support Christian pregnancy centers, not just on Sanctity of Life Sunday. My lukewarm attitude and failure to support single moms who choose to give birth and life to their precious babies.

But our far greater sin is going into the voting booth, election after election, and pulling the lever for candidates we know support abortion. You can salve your conscience by calling it choice, but you know in your heart, abortion is the reaction to the consequences of a wrong choice made months before.

God says:

“Innocent blood will not be shed in the midst of your land which the Lord your God gives you as an inheritance, and blood-guiltiness be on you…you shall purge the blood of the innocent from Israel, that it may go well with you” (Deuteronomy 19:10-13 NAS).

Well Americans, could it be abortion is one of the reasons it’s not going well with our nation?

“There are six things which the Lord hates, yes, seven which are an abomination to Him: Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that run rapidly to evil, a false witness who utters lies, and one who spreads strife among brothers” (Proverbs 6:16-19 NAS).

America is in trouble! We have slaughtered well over fifty-five million innocent babies. And a disturbing statistic is the percentage of Christian women who have believed the lie of Satan and have themselves aborted babies.

Let me be quick to say abortion is not the unforgivable sin. That’s why Jesus had to die. And all of us have pushed that painful crown of thorns into His head. Caused those nails to be hammered into His hands and feet. That sword to be thrust in His side. He bled and died. For us.

God forgives our sin when we come to Him, through the blood of Christ, repenting and confessing and asking for His forgiveness.
So who better to lead the fight than those who know the lifelong consequences abortion brings and have come through the blood of Jesus love and grace into life?

Let their be no mistake, when we allow ourselves to be lulled unaware and unconscious to the screams of millions of tortured, murdered babies—we’ve become lukewarm.

It’s long past time to tear off the rags of complacency. This is a vicious battle and we must recognize the few are manipulating the majority. We can no longer hope someone else will do the work. They haven’t. You. Me. We must shine the light of God’s truth on the lie of choice.

Abortion isn’t a choice. Abortion is a reaction to the consequence of a previously made wrong choice.

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