My First Pair of Jeans

Today looks and feels (atmosphere-wise) like the days i spent in Minnesota in September on the lakes with my dad and mom. a tad warmer (70) but still reminds me. i was 10, 1957 or so.

we drove up and we got all the way into Minnesota before my mom finally talked my dad into stopping and buying me my very first pair of jeans. i heard her say under her breath, "you can't expect her to go out on a boat in a dress in weather like this, Merril Johnson." (mom seldom, extremely seldom, talked back to my dad.) Next small town we came to he pulled into a parking place and i got a new pair of jeans. i'm not sure i was ever allowed to wear them again after we left the state.

Hope for Tomorrow

I've referenced Hebrews 11: 1 a couple of times this week, and my mind stayed on it a bit each time. It's almost 40 years ago, but i can still remember what my mind set and attitude was like before i accepted Christ. I thought about my kids, and then about me. My kids would leave home some day, and I was mortal. So, i had pretty much no hope for this life except to "get as much as I could for as long as I could". Still, I came up empty. Hebrews 11: 1 answers that, and when I had Christ, I learned that without that faith, without Him, I had no hope. That faith is the firm foundation upon which this life is worth living. Without it, life stinks. With Him, I have hope for tomorrow.

AND THE JOY WE SHARE AS WE TARRY THERE, NONE OTHER HAS EVER KNOWN. It's not a laughing fest. It's not a jump up and down exercise. It's not walking around with this huge smile painted all over your face. It's sitting quietly and peacefully, feeling a warm sense of being loved and held tightly and safely, completely calm while your whole world around you is caving in.

ENOUGH

One of my favorite singers is a woman who I believe is THE voice of the twentieth century, Linda Ronstadt. Ten years or so ago she was diagnosed with super nuclear palsy, a form of Parkinson's disease. She lost her voice, her career, and very quickly her motor skills.

Every now and then when I feel a little sorry for myself, I will listen to her music and then read for the hundredth time all her struggles to live as normal a life as possible. I always realize how fortunate I am to have what health I have left.

It's very important to remember that there are thousands, millions of people out there that are worse off, hurt more, in a much sorrier state than you are. I'm in God's hands, and that is enough!

LOVE GROWS HERE

I arrived at their house in early afternoon. They were out at their pool and had left the front door unlocked for me to go in. The sign on the door read, "Love Grows Here", and that stopped me in my tracks. I thought for a couple of seconds before I entered. Yes. I know this couple well enough to know that it wasn't just a sweet sign on a door. This was a very true statement for this couple of 42 years.

The sign has haunted me since. Truthfully, I could not hang that sign in my entryway. But, what would my sign say? "Love is Here If You Look for It." "Love is in Here Somewhere." "We Try to Get Along." "I Guess We Do Love One Another." Wow. It stabs me in the heart to think of this sign.

What a beautiful statement after 42 years. I told this to my friends while we lounged in the pool. The husband stopped for a moment, then with a smile said,  "Yeah. It does." She leveled her gaze at me and said, "What a nice compliment."

I wondered how many of us could make such an assertion. We certainly want our friends to think it so, but, do they? Does it matter? Why does it matter? "Reside Here"? Probably. But, "Grows Here"?

Somehow, thinking of the difference between, "Love Grows Here" and "Love Resides Here" makes me sad.

Annie Johnson Flint

God hath not promised skies always blue,Flower strewn pathways all our lives through;

God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.
But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way;
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

Annie Johnston Flint wrote this song, If you don't know her story you need to look it up and read it. she was bedridden with arthritis, boils, sores, on and on and on for most of her life. she started out an orphan. she was stricken with more pain and suffering than i could ever imagine, and in her bed she wrote many songs like the one above. people ask me how i got through some of the things i've been through and i always tell them, Everybody's Got a Story. i'm not the only one who has problems. i'm not alone. you have a story. and i believe we all need to remind others that God is the One to turn to when we suffer. we suffer because of sin in the world. we pray and turn to God because He's the only place to go for hope and peace through it all. we read this at my mom's funeral because she lived this. she was a woman who suffered much, and laughed through it all because she had turned to the Father of hope.

God reached down through a 17-year-old young man to comfort me yesterday. A line at the end of a song touched my heart and I began to cry. I was seated and not standing with everyone. Immediately these arms wrapped around me from right behind me and held and hugged me while I dried my tears. Thank you Barbara Cunningham Campbell for raising such a loving and dear young man. Jacob never ceases to be precious to me with his friendliness and sweet manners. He always goes out of his way to say hello with a hug. He is this way with many of us. He definitely "loves the brothers" as Karl's message told us.