Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘A Nation Divided’ Category

IT’S NOT ABOUT ME

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , on July 14, 2012| 11 Comments »

I got nothing from the sermon this morning. Should have stayed home. The music was loud and consisted of fifteen words, repeated over and over. And not a soul spoke to me.

Hmm, ever thought that?

Come on now, ‘fess up. I have.

Last week a friend of mine loaned me a book she bought at a garage sale. The title of the book was In His Steps, by Charles M. Sheldon, published by Moody Press in 1956. This powerful book has caused me to rethink and refocus on the object of worship. And the conclusion is clear. . .

Worship is not about me.

What? That statement begs the question, then who or what is worship all about? What I get out of church? Me feeling good when I leave church? Me hearing the pastor give an acceptable sermon?

Or is my purpose to sit at Jesus feet to learn to become more like Him? Only the Spirit can accomplish that in me—my part is to be quiet, to listen, and then obey. Scripture tells me I am to “Enter His gates with thanksgiving and come into His courts with praise. Be thankful unto Him and bless His name” (Psalm 100:4 KJV).

Worship is for God and about God—not what I get, but what I give to Him.

And to be truthful, if I’m not worshiping before I reach the church building, chances are I’m not going to worship once I’m inside.

So why do I go to church? Several thoughts spring to mind: To hear the pastor’s message and read God’s Word? To sing and listen to the special music, and enjoy the company of friends who believe as I do?

But is that worship?

No. Worship convicts me when I humble myself and recognize my traditions and self-righteousness are like filthy rags before God. I realize the vast chasm between a holy God and a sinner like me, then acknowledge and accept that Jesus paid the debt for my sins and gave me life—eternal life. And I am thankful. Grateful.

Jesus commended the tax collector who stood outside the tabernacle, wouldn’t even look up toward heaven and beat on his breast, crying out “God be merciful to me—a sinner.” But He condemned the Pharisee who said “God I thank Thee that I am not like other people…even like this tax collector,” (Luke 18:11-13 NAS).

I don’t recall thinking, “Lord, be merciful to me. I’m a sinner,” as I’m racing through the church doors before the first song or prayer. I don’t even remember spending those moments in the car driving to church contemplating my desperate need for Him.  

Rogets Thesaurus lists the verb worship as “adore, cherish, respect.”

Who? Him?

Have I? No. It’s been all about me.

Is it any wonder I leave church in worse shape than when I arrived?

Are you tired of sitting in church every Sunday, singing a few praise choruses, reading a few scriptures, praying, then continuing with business as usual Monday through Friday? I wonder if our lives would be changed if we committed to ask Jesus what He would do each day, in every circumstance of our lives—relationships, finances, business?

In this book, In His Steps, the pastor and his congregation found themselves asking that same question after an unsettling experience during a Sunday service brought them to question the core of their worship. They chose to surrender to the power of the Spirit of God. As a result the preacher, the congregation, and their town was changed.

Those believers did not take their commitment lightly, nor should we. When we seek answers from man we receive only what man can provide. When we ask God, we receive wisdom, power, and understanding from the The Lord God Almighty.

But the battle ground camps in our hearts and minds. Our sinful nature shouts it’s  all about me. And that’s the deception we’ve bought into. But when we make the choice to worship God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ and we choose to follow In His Steps victory is certain.

I ask you to search for a copy of In His Steps. Read it, ask God to speak to your heart about worship, then share with us what He says to you.

Read Full Post »

Guest Appearance by Janet K. Brown

Posted in A Nation Divided on July 7, 2012| 5 Comments »

I’d like to introduce my friend and Margie Lawson editing partner, Janet K. Brown. Janet’s novel Victoria and the Ghost will be released July 25th.

Janet, tell them a little about your journey writing this book.

 

Thanks DiAne.

Like my character, Victoria, I discovered the deserted town of Clara, Texas. A church, a rectory and a cemetery mark the town’s once great promise of greatness. I walked the cemetery plots and felt a peace among the memorials. Flat plains with dry grass, crops, and cows stretched across the landscape as far as my gaze could see. There, with the tombstones and flowers that had been planted or placed on graves, I determined to know more about Clara.

A story turned over in my mind of a girl who feels a mother’s rejection, a father’s unreasonable requirement, and the loss of friends and familiar landmarks. When I heard about the legend of the ghost of Colonel Specht, called the baron of Clara, I decided this girl and this ghost bore common problems. They needed each other. Along the ride, the reader will meet a colorful German pastor’s wife, a good-looking cowboy and a redheaded jerk who would tempt any Christian to revenge. Come learn with Victoria. Watch out for intrigue, romance and chickens. Through the sad story of a displaced German who loved Clara, Texas, Victoria will learn about reality, love, and truth.

I began this story fifteen years ago, but my job and obligations kept me from finishing it until after I retired as a medical secretary and coder here in Wichita Falls. I dove into learning the writing craft. I wrote short stories and books and submitted them. Five years of rejections papered my study’s walls before the story of Victoria and the Ghost caught the publisher, Vivian Zabel’s attention. In 2011, she offered me a contract. The reality of this book releases July 25, 2012. I am beyond excited.

Join Victoria and me on a horseback ride across North Texas plains and a chauffeur-driven limousine ride through North Dallas. I hope you enjoy the book.

With God, hope rises.

Janet

To preorder: http://tinyurl.com/4RVStore

Janet K. Brown

http://www.janetkbrown.com

 

 

Read Full Post »

Janet K. Brown Guest Appearance

Posted in A Nation Divided on July 7, 2012| 1 Comment »

Read Full Post »

THE ROOT OF THE MATTER

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , , , , on June 28, 2012| Leave a Comment »

We purchased a home in Texas where four pear trees stood like sentinels between the sidewalk and the road. It was September and the trees had pears on them. Mmm, I could taste the soon-to-be pear preserves. There was not an abundant harvest that year, but the trees were young and there would always be next year.

The following spring there were few buds and the sprouting leaves unfurled to reveal withered, yellow-brown ones instead of the expected abundance of spring green.

Being city folks we checked with a neighbor. He suspected root knot and said the only choice was to cut them down and dig up the trunks and roots. Sure enough, his diagnosis was correct. The roots were knotted and dying.

Growing trees in Texas is a challenge. It takes a hardy tree to withstand our heat and long dry spells and the belligerent soil was certainly no help. The ground turns to mush after a good rain, then hard as rock the day after. And, then it dries up, cracks open, leaving bottomless craters in the landscape.

With this wild fluctuation, roots can’t form the necessary network to support the weight of the tree. Like our pear trees, if roots aren’t healthy, the tree will die.

But isn’t that true with of all of us? When my foundation isn’t strong and healthy in the Lord, my roots aren’t able to support and sustain me during the storms of life. I will be like a tree, twisted and broken, possibly uprooted when winds begin to blow.

Many of us travel through life with root-knotted hearts caused by unresolved abuse, injury or grief.  Pain of fear and loneliness that has pressed down on us, layer upon layer for years. Pain of guilt sequestered in dark corners of our hearts. Pain of anger left to fester and seep poison into every area of our lives and relationships.

Unlike root-knotted trees, root-knotted hearts can be healed. The Lord created our hearts for eternity. He alone can cure the diseases we bury deep inside. But we must expose each one of them to the brilliant light and healing balm of the Lord Jesus Christ. The Word of God will be the water, the fertilizer, and the stimulator that encourages new roots to develop and grow. God stimulated roots that will anchor us in the flowing river of His love. Strong roots that will carry His healing power to transform our hearts.

I know well the misery of famished roots, stunted growth, slow death. For much of my life there were gnarled layers of anger and anguish lurking in the dark chambers of my heart. Scarred roots entombed in my subconscious.

Until the moment of my daughter’s death.

My heart exploded like a shaken-up can of soda pop. Those acid strings of heartache and turmoil I had stifled so many years ago now resurrected the ghosts of injuries past—abuse by an uncle in my childhood, lies, unrealistic expectations, verbal and emotional abuse from a spouse, divorce, four deaths in three years—all beyond my ability to deal with. The abuses and sorrows trampled over me and I had no strength to shove them back into the crevices where I’d kept them hidden for more than forty years.

They had to be dug-up, one infected root at a time. Just like I had to dig up those pear trees. The good news for me—Jesus will not throw me on the trash heap like I threw those trees, nor does He play the three strikes—you’re out game. No. He tells me to bring my anguish and afflictions to Him, with open hands, and leave them there. On the altar. In the care of my loving and righteous and just God who will deal with the pain, with the cause, and with me in a loving, righteous, and just manner. Then He will wash me and fill me with His joy. His hope.

I encourage you to ask the Spirit of God to bring to your mind those debilitating wounds tucked into the hidden hide-outs of your heart so that you can surrender every heartache and shame to the One who created you, loves you, and longs to heal you.

            “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper” (Psalm 1:1-3 KJ).

                       

 

Read Full Post »

THE NECK THAT TURNS THE HEAD

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , on June 16, 2012| 6 Comments »

I’m a product of the sixties. The I am woman. Hear me roar generation. While watching my mom bow and scrape to my father, I determined. Nope. Not me. I will not be a doormat. I’ve been liberated.

During the following tumultuous years, I attempted to walk that treacherous tightrope between what I knew God said and what the world offered.

The teacher of our young married Sunday School class often repeated, “Yes, my husband is the head of our home. But, I’m the neck that turns the head.”

Being immature and illiterate in the Word of God, I thought what a brilliant woman and I used her words as permission to hone my aggressive and manipulative behavioral skills.

Until a divorce and second marriage was in trouble. Then I read 1 Peter 3:16:

“Wives, likewise, be submissive to your own husbands, that even if some do not obey the word, they, without a word, may be won by the conduct of the wives. . . Do not let your adornment be merely outward— arranging the hair wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel—rather let it be   the hidden person of the heart, with incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God. . .”

In my mind, submission conjured those doormat images. And a gentle and quiet spirit spoke of a mousy little woman who brought nothing into a relationship.

I needed truth.

I pulled my Strong’s Concordance off the shelf and began to dissect 1 Peter 3:4.

According to Strong’s, “Quiet indicates tranquility arising from within, causing no disturbance to others.”

Tranquil would not have been the adjective of choice to describe me. A porcupine with quills aimed and ready to fire would.

Strong’s said gentle or meek is, “the opposite of self-assertiveness and self-interest.”

I didn’t qualify in that category either.

The book continued. “A gentle or meek disposition trusts in God’s goodness and control over every situation. This is a work of the Holy Spirit, not human will.”

I had missed the mark of understanding so many years ago, but knew if I didn’t find it, this second marriage would also be doomed. I prayed—Please God, let me understand what your Word says and what that teacher meant.

I understood the neck is a column of tissue, muscles and vessels that support and allow the head to pivot. It connects the head to the rest of the body. To be functional it must be perfectly aligned, strong, and able to bear and bolster the head.

The Word tells me He appointed my husband as the overseer of our family and that the man I married remains accountable to God—whether I agree or whether my husband accepts the job God gave him. Because, “His word is forever settled in heaven” (Psalm 119:89).

In order to make wise decisions for our family, my husband must be able to survey every situation with unrestricted vision. Now a pain in my neck inhibits my range of motion and my ability to see without restraint.

The Spirit spoke to my heart.

Had I placed limitations on my husband’s ability to see because of my stiff and prideful neck? Had I prevented him from following God’s instructions? Had I inserted my words in place of God’s Word?

My answer had to be yes. More times than I dare admit, I colored his judgment with my coarse words, distracted him by my ungodly actions, and diverted him with my perverted understanding.

But our Lord is a God of second chances and has forgiven me and given me a formidable assignment. I am accountable to be that stable support for my husband. If my spiritual life is ramshackle and out-of-plumb, my husband and children, will suffer the pain of costly repairs or perhaps even life-altering consequences.

My spirit needs to function in serene quietness and that’s not my nature. Only God’s Spirit can accomplish that in me as I allow Him to transform my deceptive heart.

How about you, precious wife? We have only to look at the family unit in America today to know that something is very wrong. Our God is a God of order. Look at the universe and contemplate its order. Could it be we’ve been deceived about our marriages? Our homes? Our mission?

God did not call us to be weak, mousy, doormats. Nor did He call us to be obnoxious, roaring lionesses, but women filled with His grace and strength.  Will you let God give you the ability to be that tranquil, gentle, and courageous neck that supports and turns the head of your family?

Read Full Post »

WAITIN’ AND A WAVIN’

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , , on June 10, 2012| 6 Comments »

The phone call instructed I must come quick. Daddy’s hours on earth were coming to an end. I pressed the accelerator to the floor and headed for the convalescent center. “Lord, please give me a word, a sign, something to know my dad belongs to You and we’ll be together again in heaven.”

Daddy came to live with us after Mama died, bringing his impatience and ill temper as roommates. I was desperate for assurance that he was heaven bound.

Daddy had long since quit going to church. I never saw him open his Bible or pray, other than grace over a meal. Yet, “Amazing Grace” had been his life’s song. He taught the lyrics to his first grandchild. And to Daddy’s delight this toddler ran up and down in his crib at dawn each morning  singing “’mazing grace, sweet da sound, ‘mazing grace, sweet da sound.”

A few days before his death I found the courage to ask, “Daddy, are you afraid to die?”

He retorted with his usual impatience. “Of course not.”

I pressed the issue. “Daddy, when God calls a believer home, He sends His angels to bring them to the other side.”

“Well, I’m just standin’ here waitin’ and a wavin’,” he said,  then refused to listen to another word on the subject.

Two days later that dreaded call came and I sped toward the nursing facility.

“Not yet, Lord please—not yet.”

I crept into his room and sat rigid and motionless in that universal plastic covered hospital chair. My eyes shifted from his frail form to those troublesome monitors beeping irreverent sounds.

Daddy lapsed into unconsciousness before I arrived so there were no goodbyes. My mind swirled from loneliness to fear as I sat helpless—watching him slip from this life—nothing to do but wait in that place where time becomes meaningless and death is a breath away.

A slight rustling brought me back to reality. Daddy rolled from his side to his back. His arm shot from beneath the covers.  With eyes still closed, an ear-to-ear grin enveloped his face. He waved and waved—then he was gone.

Numbness shrouded my heart and mind.  Nurses and medical personnel rushed in and out of the room, asking questions, giving instructions.  It was over. And it took every ounce of strength to finally walk out of that room, to my car, and drive out of the parking lot. God had given me no answer. Dark waves of anguish and grief swelled then crashed over my conflicted soul.

A traffic light ahead changed to red and I slammed on brakes with Daddy’s words echoing in my ears, “I’m just standin’ here, waitin’ and a wavin’.”

God had answered my prayer—I hadn’t been listening! Sweet peace and joy flooded my soul. Tears of relief and release washed away the anguish and God’s understanding comforted my grieving heart. His angels came. At their appointed time. Daddy’s waitin’ over, they carried him smilin’ and wavin’ into the presence of  his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

“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.” John 3:16

Read Full Post »

FRIED GREEN TOMATOES

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , , on June 3, 2012| 4 Comments »

I decided to grow tomatoes this summer. So I visited the nursery, picked out six different varieties of tomatoes, and took them home to plant in their assigned pots. I gave them a drink of water, and dreamed of eating the fruit of my labor in fifty to sixty days.

At the first light of dawn each day I gave them another drink and inspected the amazing new growth that appeared overnight.

Until the morning the first worm appeared.

I plucked the yucky creature from the plant, squashed it, and mourned over the sculpted bite marks the varmint chiseled in the leaf.

My routine continued ‘til tiny green lumps replaced the yellow blossoms. Now the wait for my soon-to-be yummy tomatoes. I licked my lips, anticipating the taste of those home-grown delights.

Sunny days transformed the spheres from small to large and pale green. They hung heavy on their stalks and began to change color as they ripened. I counted the days and envisioned salads garnished with tomato wedges or sliced tomatoes sprinkled with fresh basil and goat cheese. My taste buds danced a jig of anticipation.

Then, the day before yesterday, Memorial Day, with a cup-of-coffee in hand, I walked into the garden just as the sun cleared the tree tops to give my treasures another drink and see to if this was the day.

I gasped. Horrified.

One enormous, lovely tomato hung sideways on its stem, half of it gaped open, the other half dripped its juice on the leaf below where hungry ants gobbled their breakfast. The villain—a mockingbird—sat in the tree above my head screeching at me for interrupting its breakfast, eyeing the labor of my days—intent on stealing what was mine.

I’d show him.

I plucked the maimed fruit and tossed it far away from the pots. That bird swooped in like it was the last particle of food on the planet. Through the day I peered from every window to be sure he contained himself to the cast-away fruit. But yesterday morning, he returned  before the sun rose and pecked at three more of my soon-to-be-delicious-darlings. This was war.

I ran—yes, ran—to the closet where the Christmas ornaments waited for next season, grabbed a box of shiny red balls, dug a roll of wire out of the drawer, and cut pieces to thread each scarlet sphere. With arms full of Christmas cheer, I made haste back to the garden and tied them onto the tomato cages, hoping to fool the bird with fake red circular objects.

And while I was gone, that bird pecked holes in the top of yet another ripening tomato.

These tomatoes would never make it to a salad. But the aroma of fried green tomatoes wafted through my senses. Ah ha! Even though the fruit was mangled, I could salvage the good portions and repurpose them into a delectable delight.

Just like my plan changed those damaged tomatoes into a scrumptious meal, God uses broken, battered, blemished people to accomplish His magnificent plan. He created us in His image and we are His treasures. Though we all bear the bruises of sin, He loves us and knows the plan He purposed for our lives.

But like that rascal mockingbird bent on gobbling up my tomatoes, Satan eyes us, lurking, waiting to subvert God’s plan and destroy the object of our Lord’s affection.

Jesus stands ready to answer our cries for help. He will rescue us, clean us up, and set us back on solid ground. We are the object of God’s love and He will transform us into the image of His Son. God’s love is wide and deep. No attack or scar of sin is beyond His mercy and grace to forgive and heal.

My Mama used to say, “You can’t stop the birds from flying over your head, but you can sure keep them from making a nest there.” My tomatoes had no defense in a battle against the birds—but we have a defense against Satan by placing our faith and trust in The Lord Jesus Christ.

It’s your choice. Run to Jesus when Satan lobs those flaming arrows or you can allow this enemy to build a nest in your mind, deceive your heart, and destroy your eternal soul.

I’m on my way to the garden again this morning to see if those red Christmas balls solved my bird problem. But first, I must spend time with my Lord for an attitude adjustment, in the event more fried green tomatoes are on the menu.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity, to give you a future and a hope” (NAS Jeremiah 29:11).  

Read Full Post »

CLEAN, DRY, TOWELS

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , on May 28, 2012| 10 Comments »

Tall and lanky, Roberto joined our Vacation Bible School at an inner-city park in Houston, Texas. This sixth grader’s enormous dark chocolate eyes spilled-over with a sadness that made him appear older than his twelve years. But Roberto was the first to arrive each day for VBS.

Now summertime in Texas arrives the day after Easter, so by the time school was out and Bible School began the temps were scorching by 10 AM. Add humidity to the equation and it was a recipe for wring-and-droop. What I would have given for a clean towel to wipe the sweat that dripped from every pore.

The week progressed and I learned this young man was a budding artist. He had five brothers and sisters and their family lived in an apartment complex and shared a bathroom with two other families. Paper, paint and brushes were not on this family’s shopping list.

The last day of Bible School we had a picnic for the children complete with food, games, and gifts. Roberto’s gift was paper, paints, brushes, and socks—three pair of athletic socks. Those sad brown eyes turned to sparkles and he exclaimed “thank you” over and over again. Would any of our children be exuberant over a small sack of inexpensive gifts like those? Probably not. Hugs were shared and we boarded the bus back to our church in the suburbs.

I arrived home hot and grimy. The first thing on the agenda? A bath. Filling the tub to the top I slid into the refreshing water and Roberto’s family—sharing a bathroom with more than fifteen people—flashed through my mind. Face to face with his reality had made an indelible mark on my heart.

A tornado ripped across town the week before and many of those folks were displaced from their homes—no personal soak time for them either—and no clean, dry, towels.

I pulled a fluffy towel from the rack, inhaled the scent of my favorite fabric softener, and was ashamed of my ingratitude. Like those lepers Jesus healed who forgot to say thank you, I had never even thought to say thank you for my bathroom, the water, or the clean, dry, towels.

Surrounded by a mountain of provisions from my Lord God I had failed to thank Him for running water, a pantry filled with food, plates to eat on, a car to drive, grass to run through, flowers to enjoy, family, friends—the list of blessings goes on and on. For goodness sake! A washing machine to do the laundry. And I don’t thank Him. The majority of people all over this earth lack these conveniences. God has blessed my family beyond measure and I haven’t even thought to thank Him. How about you?

I learned from Roberto never to complain when I must wait for anyone to vacate a bathroom. And I’m now grateful to fold a load of laundry—anytime—‘specially those clean, dry, towels.

            “Enter into His gates with thanksgiving and into His courts with praise. Be thankful unto Him and bless His name. For the Lord is good. His mercy is everlasting and His truth endures to all generations.” KJV Psalm 100:4-5

Read Full Post »

MOTHER’S DAY–AGAIN?

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , on May 5, 2012| 8 Comments »


Oh dear, Mother’s Day—again. One of the most difficult days of the year for me.

February 17, 2001, forever changed my life. Our twenty-eight year old daughter suddenly died from a hemorrhagic stroke in her brain stem.

Gone in an instant.

She left behind a four-and-a-half-year old daughter, a seven month old baby boy, a grieving husband and family.

For you who have experienced tragic loss, you understand. You know the tsunami of grief and the secondary losses that bring chaos to your life and to the family. I’m sure you’ve asked the same why questions I asked—with one exception.

Thirteen months earlier our Michelle was three months pregnant with this now motherless seven-month son, Noah. She and her husband had gone for a routine sonogram one Friday. After reviewing the images the doctor learned the baby was horribly deformed with organs outside the body.

The doctor recommended an abortion.

He gave them ‘til Monday to make a decision—abortion or life with a special needs child.

After the tearful phone call I received from our daughter I caught a plane so I could be there for the follow-up visit Monday. Before I left, we called our church family and asked them to pray.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped off the plane was the set of my daughter’s jaw. They had made the decision. After a shower of hugs and kisses, Michelle announced. “We are keeping this baby. Whatever God gives we will receive and love. This little one…” she patted her tummy, “…is a gift from Him. There will be no abortion.”

The appointment time arrived Monday morning. Clint and Michelle left for the doctor while I treasured time with our first grandchild, then two-and-a-half year old Ashton. The minutes turned to hours. I prayed, laughed and played games with this precious, blonde-haired child of my child.

Until Michelle and Clint burst through the door. Their faces bathed in joy, both talking, laughing, and crying.

God had answered our prayers!

Michelle told us how the doctor repeated the sonogram, then slumped onto his stool, and signaled other nurses and doctors to come and see. Monday’s picture showed a perfect baby—all organs in place—like a three-month-old baby in the womb should be. He placed the image from Friday beside the image from Monday. They appeared to be two very different babies. He had no explanation. But Michelle and Clint did. God healed Noah—in the womb. Just like we had asked Him to do.

But now I stood by her grave site and cried “Why God? Why would  you heal this baby and then thirteen months later take his mother?” There was silence. The heavens were brass—for months.

Then one morning I sat with the Word of God opened in my lap and read “The secret things belong to the Lord God, but the things revealed  belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law” (Deuteronomy 29:29).

The quiet voice in my soul asked, “Do you trust Me, DiAne?”

With trembling heart and lips I replied, “Yes, Lord. I trust You.”

“Even with this secret thing?”

“Yes Lord, even with this secret thing.”

And then there was peace, the beginning of acceptance and a giant step of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.

This scripture has been a life-ring for me. Have I asked why since that time? Oh yes. But I answer—quickly, “Yes Lord, I know. It’s one of those secret things that belongs to You. I don’t need to know, because You know.”

Other moms are surrounded by their children on Mother’s Day. My child is with the Lord and I feel alone, very alone.

However, I have learned to remember there are millions of moms, just like me. Moms whose children no longer celebrate this special occasion with them. A few years back I was prompted to send a Mother’s Day card to those mothers who have lost a child. A card to let them know someone loves them and remembers.

My daughter’s best friend remembers me each Mother’s Day with a card that carries a bitter sweetness that fertilizes blossoms of joy in my heart that grow and bloom out of the soil of pain.

If  you know a mom who has lost a child, why don’t you send a card to them this Mother’s Day. God will bless the sender and receiver. I know because He has blessed me.

Read Full Post »

A QUIET SERVANT, A GENTLE FRIEND, OR A FIERCE QUEEN – CAN’T I BE ALL THREE?

Posted in A Nation Divided, tagged , , , on April 29, 2012| 2 Comments »

 

 

For years I have desired and prayed for a gentle, quiet spirit.

Those who know me chuckle and say, “Ain’t gonna happen. Not in this lifetime.” My husband’s recent comment stung a little more. “DiAne, I don’t see any evidence of a gentle, quiet spirit. Why sweetheart, you’re just like your daddy with his hair-spring temper.”

Of course, I fell silent.

And he quipped, “See. Just like that. Now you’re angry.”

Tears gathered around the rims of my eyes but I managed to voice, “Have you ever considered my silence is not anger?”

How many times have my actions and emotions been misread by those who think they know me? More than I’d like to admit, especially by those who love me most. Could it be we have misinterpreted what a gentle, quiet spirit is?

Mama used to tell me, “Sit down, fold your hands and be quiet. Be a good little girl.” Do I have to sit down and be quiet to be a good little girl? To have a gentle quiet spirit do I have to be a silent door mat?

Our pastor addressed that interpretation this morning. He said gentleness or meekness is an exhibition of power under control. And quietness is defined as being composed, tranquil, temperate, and sober.

I thought about my three favorite women of the Old Testament. Deborah, Esther and Jael. Three women who shared a common thread—they were each engaged in a battle of the Lord’s choosing. And not one of them refused to fulfill the task God gave them.

Deborah was called to be a judge during a dark, dangerous period in Israel’s history. The men of Israel had turned away from God’s vision for the nation and were hiding. Evil flourished. God allowed Jabin, king of Canaan and the commander of his army—an evil man named Sisera, to oppress Israel for twenty-five years because of their disobedience to God’s principles and precepts.

God instructed Deborah to call Barak and tell him, “The Lord, the God of Israel has commanded you. . .” She told him to gather an army, wage battle against Jabin, and that the Lord would give him the victory. Read the account in The Book of Judges, Chapter 4.

Barak said no. He wouldn’t go unless Deborah went with him. Hmmm, to paraphrase she said, “Okay, I’ll go, but you won’t get the glory for this—a woman will.”

Meanwhile, Heber the Kenite, an in-law of Moses, didn’t want to be involved in the ruckus, so he moved his family and made peace with this evil King. But the battle followed Heber to his new digs.

Enter my second heroine—Jael, Heber’s wife. The Lord routed Sisera and his army before Barak and Deborah. However, Sisera managed to escape and fled on foot—straight to Jael’s tent.

Ms. Jael invited him in, cleaned, fed, and convinced him she would hide him. As soon as this enemy of Israel went to sleep, Ms. Jael seized a hammer and drove a tent peg through his temple and into the ground. She came out of the tent, flagged Barak down, and told him to come get the body. The honor for this victory went to a woman—Jael. Just like God said it would.

Then there was Esther. A beautiful Hebrew orphan, required to walk the runway in a beauty contest for a place in King Ahasuerus’ harem. But God had another plan. Esther became queen of Persia. And in this foreign land, she became another woman who had the courage to stand for her people.

She engaged in a battle of wits with evil Haman who plotted to destroy the nation of Israel. The complete account of her life and this victory is recorded in The Book of Esther. We see her courage in an exchange she had with her uncle. He challenged, “And who knows whether you have not attained royalty for such a time as this?” And she replied, “I will go in to the king, which is not according to the law; and if I perish, I perish.”

Three courageous women that God placed at a particular moment in history to bring about His plan.

Deborah—a woman of wisdom given by God. A woman who didn’t squirm at the prospect of going to war with the man God chose to lead Israel—even when the man showed himself to be a coward. God was in control and Deborah knew it.

Jael—a loyal wife and homemaker, didn’t say “I’m afraid. Oh, I can’t possibly do that and besides God, the blood will mess up my living room rugs.” No, the enemy camped on her doorstep and she knew God would give her the strength to defeat this enemy of her people.

Esther—an orphan who lived her life in strange surroundings, waiting for the exact moment God would use her. When He appointed her to be the necessary tool in His hands, she met the challenge that would save His chosen seed.

While I doubt these three women would ever have been seen on the 6 o’clock news, I’m pretty sure they never dreamed of being historical event changers. Yet they were. And I know these three never considered balking when God placed the mission before them.

You and I have been placed at this moment in history according to God’s purpose and plan. He has given each one of us every characteristic and personality attribute we will need to accomplish the goal He has set for our lives, our families, and the life of our nation.

What about you? Men, are you going to hide from these tumultuous times or will you lead the battle? And ladies, will we chose to listen and obey God’s call? Will we quake with fear? Will we sit down, fold our hands, and be quiet like good little girls?

Or will we act with courage and strength that rises from a gentle, quiet spirit when called by God to accomplish His will in our lives—as Deborah, Jael, and Esther did?

 

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »