Christian

June 16, 2014

Don’t kid yourself – God cares!

One of my favorite activities is playing in the dirt. Working in my yard planting flowers and making gardens brings me such joy. Last Fall I started a “little” project that I thought would enhance my front yard tremendously. I’ll just build a retaining wall and fill the area with dirt and plant some beautiful flowers, add a Rose of Sharon, and leave the rose bush and Crepe Myrtle where they are. That will make for a nice garden, I thought while gazing at the sloping ground.

IMGP2250 You may recognize my partially built wall from my post, “Building Walls”

Now I’m no spring chicken and what muscles my five foot four body had are pretty well shot but I do the best I can. I dug the trench and aligned the blocks, I carried one heavy cement block at a time and positioned each so they were solidly set, one on top of the other. (I have over 800 to do.)

IMGP2298 But then a problem arose.

Do you notice the square cement block sitting in the center? That used to be a cement step outside the basement door. It took a big machine to lift it and place it there. It was the foundation for my Christian birdbath to sit on. IMGP2138

(It’s a non-denominational birdbath so all are welcome)  Now I need to move it! No machine, no big men with muscles rippling under shirt sleeves. Just little old me.

For weeks I’ve cried out to the Lord, “Lord help me. I need that moved and I can’t budge it! Do you have some really strong angels who can help me? Please send them.”

With spring in my step and energy level high I am back working on my garden. But another problem arose.

When I had a truck load of dirt delivered I was told my wall would come tumbling down with that amount of dirt to fill the area. I need to make it a 2 tier garden or have to rebuild my wall with rebar, etc. Back to digging, carrying one heavy block at a time, and finally having the first row done I gaze at the not-so-level cement square sitting in the middle of my garden project.

“Lord? Please, please, please. I’ll leave it right where it is but it needs to be level. The front needs to come up and I can’t budge it. Oh God You have to send me a big strong angel!”

I awoke this morning to the sound of crashing, grinding, and the roar of some big truck outside my front door. Peeking out the window to see what is disturbing the peace and quiet, my eyes can’t believe what they’re looking at!

Four big angels, muscles rippling, shovels in hand. Okay so they are road workers doing work along the road in the subdivision. They look like angels to me! I scream thank you Lord, make a mad dash to the bedroom and throw on some clothes. Throwing open the front door my short, fat little legs make a bee line for the biggest angel, with the biggest muscles. I smile brightly looking up at him. Batting my seventy year old eyelashes sweetly, I ask if I can barrow his muscles because I don’t have any.

God cares for even those things that we feel are not important enough to go to Him about. He says to pray about EVERYTHING. I needed muscles! Muscles that could lift the edge of that cement square so I could level it.

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GOD ANSWERS EVEN OUR SMALLEST PRAYERS!

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“And so I tell you, keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you.” Luke 11:9

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Blessings to you.

June 13, 2014

A House not made with hands

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“For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked.

For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life.

Now He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who also has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.

So we are always confident, knowing that while we are home in the body we are absent from the Lord.

For we walk by faith, not by sight.

We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.” 2Cor. 5:1-8 NKJV

~~~~~

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Blessings to you.

May 30, 2014

Reaching the Finish Line

The road is long and narrow. The sun beats down as a lone runner crests the hill and enters the wide curve. The road stretches out before him.  A white chalk line reaches across the road in front me as I stand at the finish line watching. The race has been long and difficult for him but the finish line is in sight.

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.” 1Cor. 9:24

The world offers so many things that can distract us from the long race ahead. Our journey with Christ is as a marathon race. We must persevere, train, stay focused, and persistently reach out for the prize at the end of our journey. If we stumble along the road Christ is there to pick us up. He is there cheering us on and giving us the strength to take yet another step down the long, narrow, and winding road. I think His angels are standing with us encouraging us, “You can make it. Don’t give up!”

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is before us.” Heb. 12:1

My husband was a runner. He ran several marathons, as well as shorter races, and we had the T-shirts to prove it! His training varied depending on the length of the race he would be entering. A marathon is 26.2 miles long. It’s grueling and the preparation seemed to never end. At times he would take a day off from the training. But he never gave up.

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Don’t we feel that way at times? Don’t we get tired of all the preparation? We go to church, we pray, we reach out to others, testify, spout all the “right” things and then sit back and at times wonder if its all worth it. “Is God even hearing my prayers?” The worldly influences begin caving in all around us and like any runner we are tempted to give in, relax, take the easy road, “just this once.”

As I watch the lone runner coming closer I can see there is no sweat. His running shorts are not the ragged and worn shorts he considered his “lucky shorts” and have seen many miles. His “muscle shirt” is fresh and completely dry. His tennis shoes have no scuff marks or dangling shoe strings from pounding the pavement. They’re brand new. His hair, as in other races, isn’t plastered to his head as though he’s run through the shower. He looks fresh. He looks more alive than I’ve ever seen him before!

His focus is intense as his legs stretch out just a little bit farther as he approaches the solid white chalk line. He’s looking straight ahead as his arms reach high above his head in a sign of victory. His right foot raises high above the finish line. He’s right in front of me. He suddenly turns his head and looks straight into my eyes and says, “I made it, Sue-Sue. I crossed the finish line.”

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2Tim. 4:7

As his foot falls toward the other side of the chalk line the vision disappears. I suddenly feel the doctors hand gentle on my shoulder and he’s telling me my husband is gone.

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This is a true story. The Lord blessed me with being able to see my husband finish the race he began many years before. It’s something I will never forget for it is encouragement to me to continue to put one spiritual foot in front of the other and to keep my eyes on the finish line.

I hope this has been an encouragement to you to not lose focus. Enjoy the video.

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Blessings to you.

 

 

May 11, 2014 Aside

Wishing I was the wind

Remember back in 1956 the song “The Wayward Wind?” I loved that song! Okay, so some of you weren’t even born at that time and I’m aging myself. But that’s okay.

 

I remember sitting on the school bus, alone on the leather seat, looking out the window, and feeling totally alone. The words of the song would play through my mind and oh how I wished I could be that wind. How I wished I could just blow across the land and not have to encounter the abuse at home. As the wind, I could go wherever I wanted. I could be strong, so strong I could blow over houses or gently tilt a flower low to the ground. As the wind I would have the power to move mountains or ripple a stream.

I wasn’t living next to railroad tracts, as depicted in the song. I wasn’t grieving the loss of a lost lover. I was grieving a lost childhood. I was grieving the lack of love from a dysfunctional family. “Raise a child in the ways it is to go” wasn’t even thought about. I was being taught all the wrong things about who I was and who I would be. I was taught guilt, shame, anger, frustration, and filled with emptiness. I was taught what I was worth – nothing!

Sadly many people’s perception of their self worth derives from many different circumstances, people, society, families, jobs, how many friends we have/don’t have, etc. For me, actions speak louder than words. Don’t tell me you love me while choking me or punching me. Someone’s actions can relay a message of worth. We all know “that look” from Mom, Dad, husband, or wife.

If we claim our worth by how much money we have/ don’t have, our position at work/ executive or janitor, our weight/ to fat or to skinny, race, beautiful or ugly, harsh words or negative actions, or status in life we are being deceived. Magazines and T.V. commercials all have a message that we’re not good enough.

I remember when I confronted my Dad about the years of abuse, I’ll never forget his words. “You were my tool.” I don’t think anything he could have ever said that could have hurt more. You see he was a diesel mechanic. He had hundreds of tools. All shapes, all sizes. All had a specific purpose. They were placed in a big bright red tool box, inanimate objects that he used and put aside until needed the next time. Their only value was deemed in what they could be used for.
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“You were my tool.” Little did I know that perceived self worth was established way back in the early years of my childhood. In my case it was, “Your good for only one thing.”

It was when I became a child of God that I learned God saw me worth more than a ten dollar screw driver or a fifteen dollar pair of pliers. He saw me as more than a vessel for sex or a punching bag. I was so valuable, “more than silver or gold,” that He adopted me as His daughter! His Son died on the cross that I might have life more abundant, forgiveness of my sins, and that I could spend eternity with Him.

My Dad saw me as a tool, to be used and thrown to the side until needed at another time. God saw me as a precious child who needed a Father. imagesCA7OM3L4

I was received and valued by Christ “…with the precious blood of Christ as a lamb without blemish and without spot.” 1Peter 1:19

Our worth does not come from others, positions, status, or world worth. Our worth is based upon what God created. If He didn’t think we were worth creating He would not have created us! He would not have come to earth as a man, Jesus, to save us from an eternity in hell. He would not seek us out as a lost sheep and carry us back into the fold to love and protect us.

If you had been the only human being on the face of the earth He still would have gone to the cross for you. That’s how valuable you are to Him!

Don’t sell yourself short of how valuable you are. Your alcoholic mother, drug buddies, abusive father, parent that abandoned you did not determine your worth! God and God alone is the only one who determines our value. God see’s you valuable enough to die for you and adopt you as His child. “For you are all sons (daughters) of God through faith in Christ Jesus.” Gal. 3:26

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“And because you are sons, (daughters) God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.” Gal. 4:6-7

 * note: I added (daughters) so no-one feels left out.

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Blessings to you.

 

May 10, 2014

FREEDOM

images[4] I am free to run

images[8] I am free to dance

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I am free to live for You.

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“So He answered and said, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”‘ Luke 10:27

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Blessings to you. 🙂

May 4, 2014

Planting a seed-hoping for a harvest

Skipping across the dirt campground toward the teacher I feel free and relaxed. She has blown her whistle as the signal for us to gather together for the afternoon study. It’s a small gathering of girls at Big Sur campground in California. I must have been about seven or eight years old. The only time I attended Sunday School was just in time for the vacation Bible school camp. I’d go just long enough to qualify to be able to go to camp.

Mom would drop us off at church and then pick us up afterwards. There was no family of Mom, Dad, and four children lined in the pew singing and praising. Dad ridiculed, laughing and making fun. Mom stayed home ignoring him. My older sister and I went to Sunday School. I knew that was the only way to get to go camping for a week with the other little girls.

It was so much fun. One day we busied ourselves painting on plaster of Paris. Something we would get to carry home. An array of crafts were enjoyed each day. I still have this plaster of Paris little token of one of our daily craft sessions. IMGP2285

Campfires with roasted marshmellows on a stick, hot dogs sizzling at the end of a fork. Short Bible stories were told while gathered near the camp fire and enjoying the sound of crickets chirping in the background. Swimming in the roped off section of the lake during the hot part of the bright summer day. Oh what joy. Oh what a relief to be away from home.

What I didn’t know was the Lord was using this opportunity to plant His seeds of faith within my heart. He knew the circumstances of my abusive home life and apparently knew that at some point in my life I would need the faith He was burying deep within me. It would take many years to pass before that seed of hope, love, and faith would come bubbling forth.

Fast forward some 40-42 years.

Sitting on the carpeted floor of a Sunday School room and leaning against the wall I’m listening to the pastor as he’s teaching. I’m a new Christian and trying to understand. The pastor, for some un-known reason, looks directly at me and states boldly, “God loves you!” Without hesitation the words fly forth from my lips, “So what, He loves everyone!” Needless to say the room got very, very quiet.

As I grew in my relationship with Christ I began understanding just how important those words are. “God loves you.” But over the years I’ve also recognized that those words have also, almost, become similar to a cliché.  “Yeah, yeah, so what. He loves everyone.”

The closer my relationship with Him, the more I’ve understood that His love goes far beyond anything we can even fathom. Yes, God loves us with an everlasting love but many of us don’t want to think about the discipline part of His love. We don’t want to think about the wrath that He pored out on certain nations or peoples and will pour out again. We don’t want to think about the consequences of disobedience or rebellion. Neither did Adam and Eve.

It’s so much easier to think of a warm fuzzy love poured out on us 24/7. That way I don’t have to think about the sins I commit, the consequences of those sins, or that I need to even admit I sin! I can sit back and make statements like, “If God loves me so much how come…?” or “If God is love then why…?”

I look back over the many years since those campfire days and wonder how God can love me. All the sin I commit, all the years of hatred and anger toward Him, all the years of ignoring Him, the bad language, the un-forgiveness, the cruelty of words I have spoken. I am as filthy rags! I think about a rag that I pick up with the very tips of my fingers, holding it out at arms length while I race to the trash can and can barely stand the stench of it. Compared to Him, I am as that rag. How can God love something like that?

I may never know the answer but I do know one thing as absolute fact, He never gave up on me!

He knew when I was ready.

Then He washed this filthy rag.        imagesCAHOZCDE

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“…To Him who loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood.” Rev. 1:5

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Blessing to you. 🙂

 

 

February 22, 2014 Aside

Once upon a time… No fairy tale here! – Testimony

Once upon a time a little girl was born into a family that wasn’t rich and wasn’t exactly poor. I suppose they would fall into the “middle class” category of society. They lived in the country and those who knew them thought all was well. But it wasn’t. It was a family filled with deep dysfunction.

As the little girl grew, her hurt and pain grew with her. She was being abused; physically, emotionally, sexually, and psychologically from a very early age. She had no hope, no dreams, and saw no way out. She put on a brave front but inside she was empty, lonely, and angry. Very angry!

One day her neighbor asked her to church so the little girl went so as to escape the misery at home. The preacher spoke of how Jesus saves us. Hope filled the little girls heart and she ran forward and asked Jesus to save her. When she got home she waited and watched. Any sound and she’d run to the window to see if Jesus had shown up to save her from the torture she lived in. She expected the knock on the door any day.

But no knock came. As the days passed she felt hurt and confused, then angry, then bitterness set in.

As a young teen her hell continued at home with added pain piling high. She was gang raped then learned she was pregnant. The child was taken from her womb and placed in the arms of a stranger without her ever seeing her child. Her bitterness grew and any who spoke of God would meet with her wrath.

Her rage and angry roots grew so deep no one could get through. The door was slammed shut to anything pertaining to a loving God. Her pain continued to dig deeper and deeper. She attempted suicide a couple of times but to no avail. God wouldn’t even let her die!

She married in her late twenties and thought all would be okay now. Only it wasn’t.

Her new husband beat her. He stayed out all night and brought women to their bed when she was out of town. He drank and lived in the bars. He got mixed up with the wrong crowd and finally was looking down the wrong end of a gun being held by a killer. Her pain deepened but life must go on.

Where was God? She didn’t ask. She figured He could care less. As far as she was concerned she didn’t exist in God’s eyes. If He doesn’t care why should she?

Once again single she figured single life was okay. She dated, she worked, she had a good time, too. The mask she wore covered her wounded heart.

Four years later she met another man. A man totally opposite of her abusive husband. A Christian man. He didn’t belittle her. He didn’t hit her or call her ugly names. He didn’t drink or chase other women. He supported her and loved her. He didn’t preach to her. He somehow knew better. He didn’t talk about love. He showed her what love is and gradually she was able to toy with the idea that maybe God brought this loving man into her life. She trusted her husband and loved him more than anything she’d ever known.

But bad things happen.

She retired. He retired. They traveled and enjoyed doing the things they had dreamed about doing some day. But all those dreams were never met. He got sick. Five years of fighting his illness and living in hospitals brought her new pain. At least now she was talking to God. Lashing out would be more like it. “If You are real You are going to have to prove it to me!” she screamed silently.

He did.

Soon after she buried her husband she found herself standing in front of a pastor asking Jesus to be her Savior. She wasn’t sure how she got there, or really why she was there, but after that things began changing in her life. Changing drastically! Jesus was now her Counselor and the wounds of the past were being confronted and healed. Her life was being transformed a step at a time.

Her phone rang one morning. She slowly walked toward the kitchen to answer it. While reaching for the phone the Lord spoke softly, “I’m giving back to you what was taken away.” She heard her long-lost child’s voice for the first time in thirty-six years.

God wasn’t through proving He’s real.

He used her to help others with similar pain from their pasts. He taught her to trust Him. He took her to places she had never been, not just physical locations, but emotional and spiritual places. He’s given her dreams and visions and warnings and encouragement to give to others. He’s used this once hurt and angry little girl in ways that continues to amaze her even today.

Long ago she gave up on Him – but He never gave up on her!

He uses her today to tell those that do not believe or accept Him, that He is real. He wants them to know He cares. He wants them to know they’ll never be alone if they will only accept Him. He wants them to know that He will transform their lives if they’ll just place their trust in Him.

I know because I was that little girl.

God proved He is real and continues to prove it to me every day. He is my life, my healing, my hope, my Redeemer.  He is my all.  What He does for one He does for all.

I pray He will become your all, and that if you haven’t already, you will ask the Lord to forgive you of your sins and come into your heart and transform your life.

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“If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” Roman 10:9

“He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted. To proclaim liberty to the captives. And the opening of the prison to those who are bound.” Is. 61:1

 

Feel free to e-mail me any confidential questions or comments at: elah501c@bellsouth.net

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Blessings to you.