Daddy's Lap

I didn't grow up with a godly father. He was angry and bitter at God for allowing the fatal accident of his son in a horrible farm accident and also the death of my sister soon after she was born. Words were never spoken by him in my presence, but my mother often tried to explain to me all the emotional trauma that he oftentimes experienced mainly through nightmares.  Many, many nights mom and I would hold him, rocking him in our arms, crying with him, trying to comfort him after these violent interruptions of sleep. But comfort really never came for him.  The mental suffering of this haunted man was unimaginable.

Dad never went to church except for funerals.  He wasn't about to give God the satisfaction of thinking He would ever be forgiven for what dad believed God had taken from him. But mom and I were in church every Sunday.  If there was any talk about not attending church my dad nixed that immediately.  He wasn't going, but he saw to it that we went.

However, my dad was the type of man in whose lap I was always welcome. Even as a teen, I  could climb up in my daddy's lap, and he would cuddle and love me profusely. He died when I  was 18, and for 19 yrs I  had no lap to crawl into. When I came to Christ at age 37, I  realized the love of my Creator/Father. My earthly dad had taught me that I would be welcome to climb up into my heavenly Father's grasp and bask in His loving arms.

Daddy wasn't perfect, but I knew his never-ending love for me and finally recognized that love in my eternal Father.

HUMBLE ME

I always try to look at all sides of any situation, but, often I find I have developed a pride about it.  Thank you, Father, for loving me enough to humble me and show me that too often I don't look at all sides at all, but I believe I know all the answers, and there is only one answer, and I have it. I pray that you will do whatever it takes to create in me a humble spirit. And, I will be careful to give you glory and honor in all that You do.  amen.

Looking Deeper

The day I came to Christ is forever ingrained in my memory.  It started out like any other day and ended being the best day of my life.  Nothing in this world can happen to a person that is more wonderful than having someone save your life.  Christ had done that for me by allowing Himself to be sacrificed on the cross for me, and that day He revealed Himself to me and snatched me out of the grip of evil to live eternally with Him praising the Father.  But, as clean as He is, as holy and spotless and without flaw as He is when I accepted His gift I was hardly fit to be presented to a King.

When I met Jesus on that Saturday morning I wreaked of cigarette smoke, and many times I smelled like a brewery.  My attire was hardly appropriate for meeting the world, let alone the Father.  Most people knew I wore my jeans too tight, and I showed way too much of my body.  I was a mother of three, but that made me all the more proud of a trim body and all the more eager to flaunt it.  Probably the most unattractive thing about me was the language that spewed out of my mouth along with my rebellious attitude about anyone or anything that went against what I wanted.  I was sitting on the throne, and no one, nothing, could make me get off.  But, that day God showed me that in my heart I really wanted Him there on that throne, and all I wanted was to serve Him and love Him for the rest of my days.

But I wonder what would have become of me if Jesus had come to me that morning and said, "Oh, my.  I don't want you.  You smell.  You can't come into my kingdom dressed like that, smelling like that, with those filthy words spilling out of your mouth.  If you want to come into My house you are going to have to clean up first, or I won't accept you in.  Your disgusting manners are unacceptable for my presence."  If Jesus had set those rules I would never have come to Him and learned to love Him as much as I do today. Praise His Name!

When we look at people with such a critical eye and tell them we don't want them because of the way they dress or how they smell we are rebelling against the very center of God's will for us which is loving others, accepting them where they are and showing them the true and pure love of God the Father.  When we tell our children that they are not acceptable because of the color or length of their hair, that they must wear what we want them to wear instead of allowing them to dress in their weird fashions and colors, and when we criticize them for all the things that they do that makes us shake our heads and sometimes even turn away in disgust then how are they going to know that love is unconditional as the love of God is?  If we don't allow them in who is going to tell them about Jesus?

Yes, we must have rules for safety and order, but so many of the things we nag at others about are just little things compared to showing them the love and acceptance of God.  Let's stop growling at the appearances of people and look farther, deeper to the lost soul who needs our friendship.  Let's not worry so much about the men pulling their pants up and be much more concerned with their souls. I wonder how you looked to Him the day He saved your life.

Larry Bird

       

This is why I was (and still am) a Larry Bird fan,
from When the Game Was Ours, Larry Bird and Earvin Magic Johnson:

"The morning after Boston's celebration (1984 NBA championship title), Bird finally went home for a little shuteye. Around midafternoon, (Quinn) Buckner, who was experiencing his first-ever NBA title, drove to Bird's Brookline home with the hope of celebrating all over again. Dinah informed Buckner that Larry wasn't there.

'He was out running,' Buckner said. 'When he got back, I said to him, 'Man, what are you doing?'

Bird looked at him quizzically before he answered. 'I'm getting ready for next year,' he said."

Never quit. Never let up if you want to be a winner. For me that includes my walk with Christ.

Father and Me in the Mornings

                                                                           

Mornings at home alone with my Father are the best times of my days.  The sounds of the house and it's system is the only sound I want to hear. I open my door to the back of my house and the birds sing wonderful melodies to me and I sit quietly, focused on the Words of my Master, listening to any pieces of wisdom or counsel, or even reproof that He has for me.  I don't want to miss anything that He has to say, so I linger over each thought and ask Him to reveal to me how I must apply them to my life.

Some listen to music or messages from prophets or pastors.  But, during my quiet mornings I prefer to hear what my Lord has to say, rather than the thoughts of others.  His counsel is all I need.  He knows my deepest needs at the times that I need them.  I can trust that His words are true and righteous, written on my heart especially for me.  He has no hidden agenda, no other vision but to create in me a pure heart that glorifies Him and makes me more like His Son, the Christ, so that I will be ready and duly dressed to be a resident in His kingdom.

Oh, how I love this masterful Creator of my being!  He is my breath, my hope, my peace, my joy, my comforter, my salvation.  He is my everything, and I will give Him praise every day I have breath.

(These words come to me and are written only because The Lord God put them in me. I have no other claim to them.)

Blessed Are They That Mourn

Last Saturday I mourned over a beautiful lost dog who wandered into our garage as we came home from shopping.  The dog obviously belonged to someone since he sported such a nice harness.  He was a very big dog, and no doubt he was a handful for someone to walk.  But he was lovable and gentle and allowed me to wrap my arms around his neck. 

I could easily see that this animal would fit right into our household, but we have four wonderful dogs of our own already, so this dog definitely could not stay.  He had to belong to someone in our sub-division, and since he wore no identification I had no choice but to send him on his way.  I was heartbroken, and I was very concerned about this strange dog's welfare the rest of the day.

The next day in church it struck me; how long has it been since I spent that much love and time lamenting over a human?  How many times do I see a person so much in need of Jesus Christ in his or her life but make no effort to help?  How many times have I gone home and spent the day crying, worrying, being concerned for the people I meet every day who are lost and need the saving grace of God's gift?  I have to say, seldom.  Admittedly, often times seeing bad behavior in my chance encounters makes me disgusted, and more often than not I shake my head, I "tsk tsk" their distasteful behavior and walk away.  They are forgotten.  I give them very little after thought.

Shame on me!  Prayer should be my immediate response.  There are times when I do whisper a prayer in my mind, but why not always?  I should be doing this more often than not doing it, and I repent.

Father, establish in me a forgiving heart for those who live against Your word.  Remind me of the filthy condition my heart was in once, and how You forgave me and saved me from eternal death.  Help me to remember to stop where I am to whisper a silent prayer on their behalf.  And then, if You open the door, help me to venture through it to give others the hope of Your great love.  amen.

Life's Little Burdens

it's such a burden going through life being critical of everything and everybody. it has taken years of having to eat my words and step out of the piles i have made, but the Holy Spirit keeps showing me how insignificant my little views are, and how i need to focus on Him rather on the way i think things should be in this world. not to say that i should stick my head in the sand, but life has been going on a long time without my help. i may hate what i see, but my opinions need to be kept more silent. you don't know how hard that is for me, but God does, and He is changing me as quickly as i will let Him, and sometimes He has to do it the hard way. that's my discipline that i deserve. though, it's pretty tough to accept that discipline when you think you are perfect. ;]