'Twas the night before Christmas

Christmas Eve.

Anticipation filled the universe.

Imagine the talk in heaven...the prophets who told of Messiah's birth.
"It's time. His arrival to mankind is upon earth. Our Messiah! Lion of Judah. Counsellor! Mighty God! The Prince of Peace. He will wipe away their tears and give them hope!"

Angels rejoiced and broke forth in glorious melody. "Glory to God in the highest!"

The Living Word filled the earth with prophecy fulfilled.
"..there shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel..(Genesis 49:10)"

"Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom... (Isaiah 9:7)"

"Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign: Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his hame Immanuel...Isaih 7:14)"

"The Lord thy God will raise up unto you a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken...Daniel 18:15)"

"And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear ofthe Lord...Psalm 45:7, Isaiah 11:3,4)"

"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion: shout, O daughter of Jeruslame; behold thy Kind cometh unto thee; he is just and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a cold the foal of an ass...Zechariah 9:9)"

The Love of God was about to make His entrance to our world.
Everything was in order.
The time was at hand.
Jesus, Yeshua, Savior, King, Healer, Sinless one, Sin-bearer,Gentle one, Mighty to save - the Lord, the Prince of Peace,
was about to silence all sorrow and death with his first cry.

God smiled.
He knew His gift would change the course of history. More importantly, His gift would change the heart of man.


Because of Jesus,man's heart can connect with God.
Because He came, light fills the cracks of darkness.
Because He came, healing floods the lives of man.
Because He came, life is ours.


Thank you, Light of the world for loving us so much.
Thank you for your unconditional love so rich, so free.
Thank you for giving all you have for me.
Thank you Lord, on this Christmas Eve,
For sending your Son to all who choose to believe.

Lessons by Moonlight or Everywhere You Are

I lay in bed tonight.
Moonlight peering in my window
reminds me of your watchful eye.
You are ever in my presence.
I am always in yours.
Your love and care are as close as the light I see.
Your presence takes away - dispels the darkness.
I am not alone.
You are here.
Your love brings me peace.
The light of your love sheds joy in my heart like
butter, melting, saturating warm toast.
Your light brings the warmth of a wool blanket,
the comfort of a stuffed, feather pillow.
I am protected.
I am loved.
There is no place I can go that you are not there.

I share the words of the psalmist.
"I am an open book to you,
even from a distance, you know what I'm thinking.
I'm never out your sight....
I look behind me and you're there,
up ahead and you're there, too - your reassuring presence,
coming and going...
If I climb to the sky, you're there!
If I go underground, you're there!
If I flew on morning's wings to the far western horizon,
You'd find me in a minute - you're already there waiting...
...You even see me in the dark!
At night I'm immersed in the light!
It's a fact:
darkness isn't dark to you;
night and day,
darkness and light,
they're all the same to you...

When I awake, I am still with you...
This is all too much, too wonderful!"
(Psalm 139)

Thank you my Father, for your presence.
Thank you for your ever faithful love.
You are awesome,
my God,
my Abba Father.

On Wings Of The De-Ice Man or When Flight Is Right The Rest Is Bright

A blizzard was on the way.
I, who hardly ever gets sick, felt horrible.
I'd even gone to the doctor the day before.
Antibiotics weren't working fast enough.
Wasn't that just great.
I lay on my bed.
My suitcase, half packed, stared at me at the foot of the bed.
I know, I thought. I need to decide.

I was scheduled to fly out the next morning to see my daughter and son-in-law.
They weren't going to be able to visit during the holidays, so I was going to spend some time with them.
I didn't want to go and be sick the whole time.
I didn't want to travel feeling like...well, you know.

I whined. 'Called my husband, talked to my girl friends.
What should I do.
Of course, they couldn't decide for me.
I knew that.
So, I did what I should've done in the first place.
I lay on the bed and prayed.

Peace and assurance ran through my mind and body.
I had energy and felt better. It's true.
I finished packing, stopped and bought some Christmas candy and cookies for my kids (smile), and drove away.
I could see the foreboding clouds in the distance, and prayed I'd make it to the hotel before the storm hit.
I drove into the parking lot just as it started to snow.
A few hours later I peeked out the window. The blizzard whirled, and like a giant flour sack with a massive hole, snow heaped on the ground, covering everything in sight.
By the next morning the wind had stopped and snowflakes fluttered here and there, but roads were horrible.
'So glad I rode the shuttle to the airport.

I watched Iceman 6 spray de-icer on the plane.
I was on my way.
We flew above storm clouds where the sun dared shine and the sky was blue.
We flew sandwiched in clouds, landed in clouds.
Weather went from snow to rain.
When I landed in Dallas, the temperature was seventy-nine degrees.

The next morning I woke up feeling fine.

I've had a wonderful visit with my daughter and son-in-law.
I'm so glad I came.
I'm so glad I prayed.

On our way to church yesterday I heard my Father whisper, "Rest. Enjoy the fruit of your labor (Psalm128:2)."

A flashback of the years of raising little children fastforwarded through my memory.
Train up a child in the way he should go and even when he is old, he will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6)
What a blessed time with this sweet couple - happy, in love with each other and their Lord, serving Him with their lives.
The rest of Psalm 128:2 says, "How joyful and prosperous you will be."
What better gift could a mom ask for.
Selah.

Tebow, Paul, Me and Y'all or It's The Same Playing Field

BELIEVE!

Tim Tebow did not shine the first three and a half quarters of the Bronco/Dolphin game last week.
It was pretty ugly.
I sat and watched, play after play.
Nothing went right.
The ball was thrown either too far, too short, too high....

It did not look good.

I've been a Tebow fan since his Florida days.
I feel like he's one of my kids, so watching was a painful experience.


Then, it happened. Fourth quarter...four minutes, Demarius Thomas goes in for a touchdown.
Score: 15-7.
The Broncos were on the board.
Whew. 'So glad they scored.
What more could I ask for with so little time on the clock.
Then, with seventeen seconds left in the game, Daniel Fells goes in for a touchdown, Tebow makes the two point conversion.
Score: 15-15!
Overtime!
Who would have thought.
I know Miami was sure it was over for Tebow and the Broncos.

I was ecstatic!
What a turnaround!
With seven minutes left in overtime, Prater kicks a field goal (he had missed two shorter field goals earlier in th game) - and he makes it.
Broncos win! Score: 18-15.

I'm still reeling at what reporters have called, 'a near miracle'.
The boys in blue and orange kept on believing.
And it paid off! First win at Sun Life Stadium for the Broncos against the Dolphins in franchise history!


Sometimes life is like that Bronco game.
There have been times I've made mistakes and heard the jeers from the opposing side.
"You're no good...you'll never amount to anything...you really blew it this time..."
There have been times when I've tried so hard, gotten so prepared, only to have setback after setback...things falling apart before my eyes.
I've wondered, "Should I be here?" "Did I make a mistake?"
Everything goes wrong. It looks like I don't know what I'm doing.


The Broncos didn't look like they had anything together on Sunday.
But, in the end, it all came together.

How often have I seen that.
God comes through.
Doors open, things change, the sun shines again.

Tim Tebow knew things weren't going well, but he kept his head.
He didn't give up, back down, or get discouraged.
He and the guys in the huddle encouraged each other.
And it worked.

The apostle Paul knew all about setbacks.
Like a quarterback, Paul knew what it was to be cheered on. He also knew what it was like to be booed and jeered.
The crowd turned on him... wanting to kill  him.
Yet, Paul didn't give up.
He kept on believing.
He wrote to Timothy, "Fight the good fight of faith."
In Philippians Paul wrote, "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do. Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

Sometimes it may seem I'm trailing in the fourth quarter.
But I know that I know, my Father will see me through.
The score will change.
I am victorious in Christ.
I press on.

You've got mail!

I just looked through my blog posts. Has it really been three months since I've spoken to you?
'Guess so.
I have written several blogs.
I just didn't post them....wow.
I am so sorry. 

I thought of days when people actually wrote letters to keep in touch...sometimes I'd write a letter and forget to mail it. Or, I'd put it down somewhere and get busy, only to find it a month later.

I had a penpal in New York.
Debbie. We both attended parochial schools.
Our teachers were friends, and they thought it would be fun for Colorado kids and New York kids to correspond.
Debbie and I wrote to each other from third grade till we went to college.
We wrote about our families, school and our activities.
When we got older, we told each other our problems, and things we were going through.
We exchanged pictures and sent each other gifts.
If too much time lapsed between letters, one of us would send another letter..."what's wrong?"
We were best friends from a distance.
We never met, but we kept in touch.
Writing was the only way we stayed connected.

I'm not sure who stopped writing first.
Maybe we wrote, but just didn't mail the letters.
I guess we both got busy, got sidetracked. Life took its course, and we didn't take the time anymore.
I don't know where she is...who she married, how many children she has.
Now, it's been thirty some years.
We lost our connection...consequently, that friendship is now a memory.

Letters.
Communication.
Connection.

I know, I know. We have cell phones, tweeting, texting, emails, facebook, blogging. We can communicate with friends in so many ways these days, and I do (except for tweeting, and I haven't learned to chirp yet..maybe one day).

Whatever means of communication we choose, it is important to stay connected.
Friends are important.
Patsy Clairmont said it at Women of Faith, recently. "We need each other. We need to be there for each other - to say, I'll walk with you on your journey."

We are on this journey together.

Let's stay connected!
That could mean email...text mail...
A few weeks ago, I actually got a real letter in the mail from a friend in Texas...in an envelope with a stamp!
What a treat.

Perhaps you have some stationery (you know, that pretty paper, with matching envelopes).
Maybe you'd like to surprise a friend and write a letter!
Ok, how about a phone call, an email or facebook message, a text message, a tweet ... or a blog!

Today, I'm reconnecting with all my friends here in blogosphere!
I'm glad to say, "You've got mail."


Thought for the day:
I really need to send my mail.

What I Learned In Aisle Four or Somewhere Over The Rainbow Sherbet Bucket

I only needed a few items.
It would be a quick trip.
I'd be home in no time.
Dinner would be early!

Yes, quick as a bunny.

Zucchini, mushrooms, and pineapple.

I made my way to the checkout.
There they were.
Lines of carts filled to the brim.

It's ok,I thought. I'm not in a big hurry.

I can be patient.

Then a checker said, "I can take you on four."
A new checkout line!
Ok. That'll be quicker.
Not that I was in a hurry.

I felt like I'd just won the lottery....or at least, bingo.
I'd gotten in the shortest line! Woo hoo!
I'd be out of the store in no time.
Two guys were ahead of me. One had two packages of cheese, the other, two buckets of rainbow sherbet.
The guy with cheese had a coupon.
There was some problem with the coupon.
The checker read it, scanned it, read it, asked the man some questions.
More questions, more scanning.
Way too long for cheese.
Just pay for the cheese, I thought to my I'm-not-in-a-hurry self.
Finally, the man left with his two packages of cheese.

Whew!
Two buckets of sherbet to go.
This won't take long and I'll be out of here!

The checker asked the guy for his grocery card or phone number.
He gave her his phone number.
She entered it.
She entered it again.
And again.
"Are you sure this is the right number?"
"Yes."
She tried again.
"How long have you had this number?"
"Four years."
She tried entering the number again. And again.
"Maybe you should enter the number on the machine."
So he entered his phone number in the machine.
"It still reads invalid. Try it again."

I looked at the other lines that were so long...so long ago.
The people in those lines were gone.
New people had taken their places.

I continued to smile and tell myself I wasn't in a hurry.
I told the checker and the guy they could use my card,
my number, so he could get his discount on his, I'm-sure-it's-melting, sherbet.

But, no. She asked if he had his card.
"'In my pickup."
"Why don't you go get it."
Wouldn't you know.
He did go get it.
He meandered back in, card in hand.
He  wasn't in a hurry, either.
She scanned his card.

He looked at the checker. "That's not the right price."
I'm sure I rolled my eyes (in my mind anyway).
The checker said, "Come on. Let's go check the price."
So, the checker and bucket boy left to visit the frozen food department.
By this time, I'm thinking, are you kidding me?
The lady behind me was buying diapers. Hopefully, her baby had a few diapers left when she left home.
Her daughter stood beside her. She had time to turn every page in a bridal magazine.
The lady looked at me like, now what?
"Price check," I told her.

Finally, the checker and the guy returned. He was holding his two buckets of rainbow sherbet.
I wanted to sing, "Somewhere over the rainbow..."

The guy decided he only wanted one bucket of sherbet.
The checker left (again) and put the other bucket in the ice machine.

I looked at the guy. "Are you going to have your sherbet double-wrapped?
It's pretty hot outside."
"Nope. It'll be all right. My pick-up's got air conditioning."

It was my turn.
At last.
I think the employees changed shifts.
I know the guy's sherbet bucket was dripping on the way out to his pick-up.
The lady behind me probably missed feeding her baby.
Her daughter decided she didn't want to get married.

It was a good thing I wasn't in a hurry.
I needed a patience lesson today, anyway.
(Let patience have her perfect work...James 1:4)

P.S. This is a true story. Names were not mentioned because I didn't know them. They were not innocent.

What I Learned From Tim Taylor or That Gift Doesn't Belong to Me!

"Piece of cake! It's so easy, anybody can do it."
"Ten minutes max!"
I believed her. All it needed were a few screws and wallah, the table would be put together.

I pulled the hundred and ten pound box out of the back of my mini van.
A few doors down, my neighbor friend watched, while her little children played in the yard.
I'm sure she wondered what in the world I was trying to do.
It was easy to see....the box was huge and heavy, and I was trying to manipulate it
very carefully...after all, there were a a dozen and a half tiles in the box.
I edged the flat box one way, then the other, till at last, I had it leaning against my vehicle.

I pushed it and steered it, till I got to the backyard.
I gently lay it on the grass and opened the box, where my next feat was to pull the pieces out.
The whole thing was held together with a mile of wide clear packing tape and enough bubble wrap to go around my house at least twice.
I got the legs untaped/untangled.
The tiles were tied together in place on the table with nice brown ribbon. So, I whacked each ribbon with my scissors, and stacked the tiles till I was ready for them.
At last!
I could put the screws in and be done with it.

Right.

The legs were curved. The screws didn't go straight,  no matter what I did. I knew they had to be faulty.
The legs wobbled and flopped
I tried to get the middle section that went under the table situated, so I could try to screw it in the wobbly legs. I was sure that would remedy the problem.
Somehow, I got tangled up in the middle section and the legs.

I looked at my clock - one hour.

The lady said ten minutes!!

I tried a few more times, determined not to give up.

Finally, I surrendered with strapping tape stuck to my clothes, my body contorted trying to hold the legs and the table together, while I held a three inch allen wrench and watched the screws roll away.

The table was too advanced for my mechanical skills.

I called the store.
The lady said she'd send their 'man' right over.
He drove up.
My day immediately got better.

We walked to the backyard where he surveyed my sorry attempt at putting the table together.

Needless to say, he got it put together in no time.
He put the tiles in place.
Wallah - 'nothing to it.
The table looked great.

I smiled.
God gives us all different abilities, different gifts.

I admit...I'm all thumbs with an allen wrench, a screw driver, a hammer...
I can't get a screw to go in straight, or a nail in the wall without bending it.

I'll stick with music and writing.
That's more my thing.

Although...I'm sure there will come another time when someone will say, "It's easy," and I'll believe him/her.
I'll try using a saw or some other tool. (Did I ever tell you about sawing the bottom off the Christmas tree?)

'You know... I felt better after watching Tim the Tool Man Taylor.

Silly, silly string in a tangled world

I was minding my own business.
'Doing nothing, I tell you.

Bruno was so proud of his chew toy.
He pranced over to show me.

'Next thing I know I'm covered with goo.

I'm sure his chew toy did this, but Bruno is oblivious.
He continues to look at me, holding it in his mouth.
I don't know what this stuff is - it's sticky and not very tasty.

Yuk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Poor Lady. She ran around like a crazy dog trying to get the stuff off.
I called. "Come, Lady. Let me get it."
The more I tried to get the string, the harder she shook.

Finally, she sat.
"Good girl, Lady."
When she was still, I could pull the silly string loose.
Bruno sat, can in mouth, mesmerized by the scene he created.
Funny dogs.
It's hard to be upset at their innocent escapades.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Like Lady, I found myself covered in silly string, and
I didn't know how it happened.
Bruno was not around.
I was all alone....all tangled up and frustrated.

My Master saw me.

Like Lady, I ran around trying to get it off.
My Master looked at me and said, "Just stop. Let me take it off."
When I was exhausted, I finally stopped.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying," I looked at His face.

He walked over to me.
"Be still."
"Let Me have it."
I relented.
Ok.
He could take it. I was tired of trying on my own.
~ ~ ~
Sometimes, like Lady - I try to take care of my problems on my own.
I don't realize it at first.
I'm just thinking...nothing wrong with that.
But, after a while, I'm a tangled mess and I wonder what happened.

My Father knows how to get my attention.
Silly string?
Yes.
That's what it is.
Silly.
Trying to figure things out.
Trying to carry my own load.

I may pray, have my quiet time.
But, then I worry about the things I can't change and have no control over.
Silly.

It's silly not to put it all in His care and leave it there.
He is my wise Father.
In 1 Peter 5:17 He says, "Cast all your cares on me for I care for you."
In Matthew 11:28-30 He says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, andyou will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, my burden is light."

Ok, enough of the silly string.
I'm ready to come unraveled now.
My Master knows best. He has it all under control.
I can rest, rejoice, and rely on Him.

'Thinking I'll take Lady for a walk, now that we're both stringless...totally tangle-free.
Maybe I'll even take Bruno.

JUDGMENT DAY OR WHAT?

I hear the world is coming to an end...judgment day....rapture day....
today, May 21, 2011 - according to a minister and his math calculations.
What shall I do?

I hear people quit their jobs.
Businesses are offering after-rapture safe-keeping for pets, finances, etc.

Some say, "I'm not ready for everything to end. I've got a life to live!"
Others mock and make fun.
.

What do I think...
I've gone about my day.
Planted flowers, made some lunch. 'Getting gifts ready for tomorrow's high school grads.

Actually, at the beginning of day I had my quiet time.
'Read about David and Bathsheba today.
What a guy. Had an affair with Bathsheba. she gets pregnant.
Trying to cover his tracks, 'puts her husband on the front lines of battle to be killed.
The child he and Bathsheba have, dies. David repents, and worships God.

After all that, David and Bathsheba are blessed with a son - Solomon.

'Hardly seems fair.He did all those awful things.
Good thing it wasn't up to us.
God is merciful and forgiving.


Now, back to 'judgment day' happening today.
I haven't thought about it much.
'Not that I don't think it will ever happen. It will - someday.

We should be ready at any time.
Leaving this world should not be a dreaded, scary event.

There has been much discussion about the Judgment Day billboards.
There have been many questions.

Guess what. God loves us

It doesn't matter where you are right now.
"Judgment ... well, I"m lost anyway. 'No hope for me."
So not true.
Look at David.
God said David was a man after God's own heart.
He blew it many times, but he repented before his heavenly Father and was forgiven.
God saw past all his shortcomings, failure, sins, crimes, and saw his heart.


No matter how perfect we think we are...no matter how many good deeds we do...
it's not our works or goodness that will get us to heaven.
It's Jesus' works and goodness.
Jesus paid it all.
All we need to do is repent of our sorry selves, ask His forgiveness and
accept Him as our Lord and Savior.

When the time comes, and it will someday; we will be ready.

There may not be a billboard to remind us.
But! His Word is our reminder.
Look up, and lift your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh! (Luke 21:28)

PS  If the rapture happens today I shall not be here tomorrow.

To momhood

My good friend tells me she always wanted to be a mom.
Another good friend tells me, "The only thing I wanted was to grow up and be a mom."
"How about you?" They ask me.
I look at both of them.


I had to think about it. I wanted to.... be a nun. Yes, a nun.
I thought it was the best way to serve God,at the time.

Frankly, it was between becoming a nun because of God or wanting to get married and have children-even though children scared me.
They were foreign beings to me.
I wasn't around them much.
I babysat for my cousin when I was in high school. She had two little boys.
She left strict instructions about their bedtime.
I tried to comply.
But, Jimmy, the oldest, didn't want to go to bed and threw a royal fit.
He finally climbed into his top bunk, and kept yelling.
He started out, "I'm going to tell...I'm going to tell my..." and I guess figured he better not tell his parents, and said, "I'm going to tell the police, I'm going to tell the police!I don't want to go to bed!"
He stayed in bed. He stopped screaming and went to sleep.
He was three years old.
His screaming traumatized me for a long time.
I wondered how his parents did it.

I babysat for my high school choir teacher. She had two sweet little kids. Ah, what a relief.
I actually enjoyed babysitting.
One of her children was just months old.
He slept most of the time I was there,but I remember watching him sleep.
How tiny, how perfect.
His sister was a sweet toddler.
I thought it might be fun to have children, someday.

Obviously, becoming a nun did not happen.

I found I could serve God, and not be a nun!
My life brought momhood.
One, then two, then three....
I have five children.
Who'd have thought!
Yes, five.

We went for walks - two in the double stroller, two walked beside the stroller and one was in a snugli.
Oh, the looks I'd get.
"Are all these yours?"
One time I answered, "Actually, we wanted ten, but settled for five."
Our pastor at the time said, "I know the Bible says multiply and subdue to the earth, but He didn't mean just you."

I don't see five as being many.
They came one at a time, so we adapted as we went along!
'Lined up to take showers.
One cereal bowl or five...not a big deal.

One time, a friend and I, her four and my five, took a short road trip in her stationwagon (years before everyone had to have a carseat, or we would have not been able to pull this off.)
We stopped for gas in a small town, and someone asked us if we had a pres-school.
We laughed for miles at the look on the man's face when we said, no, the children all belonged to us.

There have been cuts, scrapes, bruises, black eyes and stitches.
There have been times when I thought I'd never stop laughing, and times when I thought I'd never stop crying.
There have been nights with no sleep because of sickness, or waiting to hear the front door.
There were nights when we piled in one bed and laughed. Nights we stayed up late and watched movies.

There were Mother's Day mornings when my little ones brought me breakfast in bed.

The joy of momhood has been mine.
It is the highest calling of my life.
It was the plan.
God knew.

I say to my children today, "Thank you! I celebrate Mother's Day!"
I love you my five.

Happy Mother's Day, mothers.

And the other guy

Who knows who Usama Bin Laden was?
Hands, everyone.
Thanks.
Bad guy gone horror story, now gone away, buried at sea they say.
Hell?
Hmmm.
We mustn't.
Really.
It's not our place.
Who's to say.

Maybe...maybe not.
But,
hell is a real place.
It's a place reserved for the devil and his angels (Matthew 25:41).
I've heard people say, "I'll party with my friends in hell."
Ah, definitely not.
Not the place for parties and celebrations - that place is heaven.
Hell is the place of torment, horror,and anything gruesome and gross.
Ever suffer horrendous pain...it'll be worse than that.

I read Dante Alighieri's "Inferno"as a senior in high school.
'Wonder what hell could be like?
 Dante's imagination took us on quite a trip.

Some parts I remember...if you were doing things behind people's backs, your head would be on backwards for all eternity. Oh and there were those who took money for religious gain - head first in a hole in a rock with flames burning the soles of their feet, forever. Or, gluttons, lying sightless in vile slush, while ceaseless foul, icy rain falls on them forever. Oh, and liars - a disease to society themselves; they are afflicted with horrible diseases forever. Traitors like Cain, who killed his brother Abel (those are the names used in the book) are in ice up to their faces, forever and ever.

The quote that stands out from the book - "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate," which means, "Abandon all hope who enter here."

Did Usama Bin Laden go there?
Hmmm....
Ultimately it's our choice where we go.
God doesn't "send" people there.
He sent his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him, will not perish but have everlasting life (John 3:16).
It's a free gift from God because of His love (Romans 6:23).

But...
Not everyone chooses life.
Not everyone wants to know the Giver of life.

A good God does not send people to hell.
A good God does not make people do bad things.

It's a choice.
In the Bible it says, "Choose you this day who you will serve.
As for me and my  house, we will serve the Lord." (Joshua24:15)

Did Usama serve the living, eternal God?
I know God has a way of reaching every single person.
He's God. He can.
Whether Usama reached out to Him in the end, I don't know.
Maybe we have our doubts.
Maybe they are well founded.

What I do know is the world is free from a man who practiced wickedness, and killed countless, innocent people.

God has a place reserved for each of us. It's up to us whether we accept it.

What about the other guy?

He's been invited.
The RSVP is in his hands.
In the end, it's up to him.

My friend, till then...

Sometimes when I think about her,
I see her quite clearly.
She's smiling that infectious smile.
I want to sit and talk.
I want to visit like we did.
I want to laugh with her again.

But, I can't.

Today I saw her green van for the first time
since she's been gone.
My heart leaped and dropped.


I can't believe she's really gone, I guess.
Some mornings I think I need to call her to see how she's doing through all this.

Then, I remember.
She's not going through all this.
For that I'm so thankful.

I'm certain she is with Jesus.
She has eternal perspective and isn't worried about a thing.
She knows this life will make way for eternity.
She know's it won't be long till she sees her children again.
It won't be long and we'll all be together again.
She knows that.

I drive by her house.
She lived in the same part of town.
It's on my way.
I still look that way.
I know I'm not going to see her, but I look anyway.
It's her house.
Memories live there now.

Lord, the pain of loss doesn't have a name.
Nothing can describe it.
I know we have hope for forever.
I'm anticipating that day.

Today it hurts beyond words.
The numbness of shock wearing off.

Marilyn -
Your van drove away without you today.
Reality made a dent in the depth of loss.
Maybe it seems strange that your van made me cry.
It was such a presence of your life - yours and Charles'.
To see it
made your absence so real.
Grief happens in such odd ways sometimes.

I can't say good-bye.
I know I'll see you again.
But, it sure is difficult here without you.

I always appreciated our friendship, our children talks, and
our Bible studies together.
We laughed about silly things and prayed about things in life that hurt.

Hey! You were my biggest blog fan.
You always read my 'stories' and had something positive to say.
It meant a lot to me.
I don't think you knew how much you encouraged me.

When I think of you, the verse that comes to mind is - 'In quietness and confidence shall be your strength'.
You were always a great example of God's love.
I admired your quietness and confidence.
Thank you so much.
I miss you Marilyn.

Till we meet again - oh wait -

P.S. There are many of us here who promise to pray for your children, and love them till you can see them again.
Oh, and by the way, I know you are a part of that cloud of witnesses cheering us on till we meet.
And then we will have the best time in forever with our Lord!

Love to you,
Diane

Circle the Wagons!

Wagon after wagon,

pioneers journeyed west.

Unfamiliar with what was ahead, they ventured through each challenging day.

Wheels grinding over rocks and cactus, pans clanging against each other, while women kept their skirts from becoming tangled in wagon wheels; chatting and holding tired toddlers.

Dust flying, harsh weather, rugged plains, blue skies forever.

Wagon trains trailed the prairie ocean.

Families left all they knew, traveling together with strangers, to reach a common destination.

It wasn't easy.

Nothing worth anything ever is.

Along the way, they encountered tough times - accidents, sickness, death.

'Nothing harder than burying a loved one.

They knew all about it.

But, they continued. Day after treacherous day.

Wagon trains, bound by people on a journey, becoming their own community for a time.

   

We're not so diffierent.

Our wagon train of homes is settled on these eastern plains.

We know the harshness of the weather.

We know the dust and wind.

We understand.

Recently we shared tragedy and heartbreak.
The month of March left our wagons filled with tears and holes.
Tragedy after tragedy.
We had to stop.
There was no way to go on.

Tears and sleepless nights filled with prayers filled many
hearts and homes in our camp.


Has the dust settled yet?
I'm not sure.
What can we do?

We need to circle the wagons.
Pioneers did that when they stopped for the night - for safety.
They did it, to keep watch.
They were tired, dirty, homesick, heartbroken.
They may have lost a loved one along the way.
Whether they knew each other or not, they were on the journey together.

And so are we.

We need to be there for our neighbors.
Be tenderhearted and forgiving.
Be the shoulder someone needs.
Bring encouragement to a broken soul.

We need to be able to say to those around us,
"I've got your back."

We need to circle the wagons.
We're on this journey together.

We won't pass this way again.

It's Friday

I lost track of time on Tuesday night.
Death visited and turned our world upside down.
Death rings close to home since we know most everybody.
It's how it is in a small community.

Words are not enough.
They can't portray the deep grief and sorrow passing through our lives.
It's heart wrenching.
Life isn't supposed to end this way.
Murder -
Horrendous deaths of friends, parents.

My mind can't filter through all the news.
It's too tragic.
Through the blur of time, we arrived at Friday.
Friday.
Yes, Friday.

I thought about this story:


Years ago, a Baptist preacher in the inner city of Philadelphia gave an unforgettable sermon on Easter.
He said, "Mary, Jesus' mother is crying her eyes out. That's her son up on that cross. He's dying an agonizing death as a criminal."
It's only Friday...... But, Sunday's a comin'!"
The Apostles are down and depressed. Jesus, their leader is being killed by evil men.
It's only Friday.....
But, Sunday's a comin'!"
Mary Magdalene is out of her mind with grief. Jesus saved her life and set her free and now He's being killed.
It's only Friday.....
But Sunday's a comin'!
The Devil thought he won....'You thought you'd outwit me, but I've got you now.'
It's only Friday......
But Sunday's a comin'!

It's Friday. Evil has triumphed over over good.
Jesus is up there on the cross. The world is turned upside down.
This shouldn't be happening.

The brothers and the sisters are suffering.
It just isn't fair...all they have to go through, but,
it's only Friday.
Yes, it's only Friday....
But....

Sunday's a comin'!"

Yes, it's Friday.
We've experienced tremendous loss this week in our small community.
Our world has been turned upside down.

Yes, this is Friday.
But, friends, Sunday's a comin'!

God said so.
Jesus confirmed it.
The Holy Spirit is here to be our comfort and strength.
Sunday's a comin.

We can count on it.
He is our blessed hope.
He will carry us through the storm, the darkness and
bring us through.
He brought Life to Sunday.
He was victorious over Friday.

Yes, it's Friday.
But,

Sunday's a comin'!

The noise I hear

Shadows stretched across the darkness.
Accusing fingers scratched the pavement.
Who would it be tonight.
Where.

Unsuspecting would be best.
Sleeping.
Daring.
Yielding.

No one will know.
None will be able to capture what I embrace.


Prey...sounds tapping across the window pane.
Waiting.

Shadows aren't reality anyway.
But, then..the slimy fingers twist and contort.
Death.
It will reign.
Laughter.
Wicked, clattering chains
of scheming
lies.

But, NO.
Shhhh....
Listen.
Voices.
 Multitudes,
Piercing the darkness, the shadows.

Shouts.
Thundering with authority.
Needed.
Necessary.
Bellowing through eternity.
NO.
NO.
NO.

The shadows shall not reign.
They shall not overtake.
NO.


AUTHORITY arrives
on angel wings
spanning the length of time
and beyond.

It shall be well again.
It shall.
AUTHORITY HAS SPOKEN.
IT IS LOVE.
IT IS ETERNAL.
LIGHT OVERCOMES DARKNESS.
VICTORIOUS
FOREVERMORE.

The Word of prayer rolls back the darkness
and sheds Wonderful Light.
Darkness has to depart at the sound of the Heavenly.


In the silence of grief, and suffering there is hope.
Christ has conquered death and the grave.
He forgives.
He comforts.
He reigns.
He is.
He will.
He is to come.
Selah.

Live it up loud! (special dedication to my mom friends, especially Jesi and Kandy)

Listening to some of my 'mom' friends reminded me of  the seasons that have come and gone in my life.


Recently, a friend commented on a day when she watched her preschool daughter in the backyard, swinging and singing and having the best time...
one of those sweet kodak moments.
My friend said, "Why am I crying."

Another friend has a senior in high school.
She said, "Is the senior year harder on the senior or the parent."

Answer to both....Ah, the parent.
It's a parent thing.

Our hearts belong to our children.

We swell with joy at the things they say and do.
At the same time, a sadness tugs at our hearts.
We know the moments are fleeting,
and they will soon be gone.

It doesn't seem that long ago that I was watching my little ones at play.
It doesn't seem that long ago that I had a senior getting ready to graduate.
It doesn't seem that long ago,
no, not at all.
I enjoyed every season of raising my children.                      
It's what parents do.

I thought about my last year as a senior's mom,
when the youngest of my five was a senior.
It was the final chapter in my-kids-are- at- home book of fulltime mom-hood.
What was I going to do.

I'm a crier. My kids will tell you it's true.
I cried their first day of kindergarten,
at programs and games,
at every graduation.
I knew I was going to cry his whole senior year.
I was going to be a soggy mess.

It was the last, 'first' football game.
I sat in my mom mobile, praying.
God. I can't do this.
I don't know how I'm going to get through this senior year.

I took a deep breath.
I straightened my pride button with my son's picture.
I had all my paraphenalia for the game.
I was going to make my way to our reserved seats.

Then,a song on the radio caught my attention.
"Turn up the music! Turn it up loud. Take a few chances, let it all out.
Because you won't regret it, looking backfrom where you have been.
Because it's not who you know and it's not what you did, it's how you live.
So go to the ball games, go to the ballet.....
Kiss all your children.....
Don't run from the truth, cause you can't get away.
Just face it and you'll be ok."
("How You Live," by Point of Grace).

'Silly, maybe, but that song spoke to me, and
 it seemed that year,
any time I felt a little blue, as moms letting go
sometimes do,
that song was on the radio.

I turned up the music of my life. I turned it up loud!
I didn't want to have regrets.
I went to those games and enjoyed watching my son.
I sat through programs and awards night, and enjoyed every minute.
I enjoyed my son's senior year.

I'm sure I cried.
But, I smiled, and laughed a lot, too.

I reminded myself to live the life!

I understand my mom friends and where they are in life.
It's sweet...kind of sad...but it's what parenting is about.
Enjoy each moment, because, yes, it all goes way too fast.


My nest is empty now. (by the way, the picture for this blog...my son is number 12).

Yet, there are still times I get that nudge to
Turn up the music of life....loud!
So, I do.
I may call one of my kids or visit a friend.
I may dance while I clean, or dance with the dog.
It's not who we know or what we do,
it's how we live.

Ah, Harry

Harry met the girl of his dreams when he was six. She was five.
They graduated from the same high school  and went separate ways.
Nine years later they were reunited.
They dated.
They wrote letters to each other.
They married.
He wrote more than 1,300 letters to her  for nearly fifity years.


Ah, Harry.
Sigh.
The couple-
President Harry Truman and his sweetheart, Bess Truman.

Then there was Mr. Valentine.
He is a mystery.
He may just be a legend.
I still like the story.
Valentine was in prison and fell in love a girl, who may have been the jailer's daughter. Before his death, he wrote her a letter and signed it, "From Your Valentine."

Thanks Valentine.

Valentine's Day,
a day worth setting aside.
Tell her you love her.
Let him know he's your man.

I remember when my husband and I were dating.
The delivery girl brought me this huge spray of roses.
I felt like a movie star.
Roses. I love roses.

That's all it took.
I was smitten.
He was sweet, thoughtful, a gentleman (yes, I'm talking my husband, now).
He found the perfect Valentine's Day card.
He took me to dinner.

He still sends roses.
He still manages to find the perfect card.
He still takes me to dinner.
He's still sweet, thoughtful and a gentleman.

Ah....Valentine's Day.
What a day for love.
Harry Truman, Valentine...'so many love stories out there.

But, maybe, you're alone.
Don't hate Valentine's Day.
'Been there, too.

My son was born on Valentine's Day.
One year when I was a single parent, he said,
"Mommy, I'll be your Valentine."
So, I've always had a Valentine - since the day he was born.
'Those days,
I bought myself a heart-shaped box of Russell Stover candy.
I enjoyed Valentine's Day, anyway.
I enjoyed the candy, too.

Ah...Valentine's Day.
Enjoy the day set aside for love.

Tell someone you love 'em.
It's ok
to be in the mood for love.

So, stay right here. These are the good ol' days.

A few days ago I felt like Carly Simon.
Yup.
I walked into a music store and got the strangest looks.
'Not that I'm famous like Carly, but I was a novelty.
Someone from back in the day.
'Like being the Grateful Dead resurrected or something.
It was kind of uncomfortable.

I think
I should feel at home in a music store.
After all, I worked in one back in the day.
I spent many days stringing and tuning guitars.
I gave lessons and had my own guitar.

Guitars were my friends.

There in that store I saw
them, all hung in neat rows.
Guitar after guitar greeted me.
My old friends....

Only the young men working there didn't know that.

As uncomfortable as I felt, it was kind of funny.
"Could I help you find something," one young man asked.
He was friendly, but I got the distinct impression he thought I was going to say, "I have no idea. I came in for my son..."
or, "I teach music and I need..." I have taught music, and done that.
The help is eager to comply. "Ah, she's a teacher. Ok. Of course."

But, no.
I was looking for supplies for my guitar.
That is a different story.

I mentioned maybe buying a new guitar strap.
I told the young man, "Mine is pretty old. It's from the seventies."
His eyes got big.
"Wow. I'd love to have a guitar strap from the seventies."

I paused.
I thought.
I felt like a walking museum with access to the Mona Lisa.

I looked at the guitar straps.
I decided I'd keep mine. My seventies strap is actually pretty fine.

I asked for guitar strings.
I have my favorite.
Maybe I was imagining, but I think the young man looked at me in surprise.

I asked for picks and was looking around the counter (when I worked at
a music store we had picks - different shapes and colors (including psychedelic) - in a large bowl - it was fun to go throught the bowl and choose several.)
He showed me the rack behind the counter.
Small bags of picks.
Ok. Well, I wanted the fine picks.
Boring.
I chose the red ones.

Once again, maybe I imagined that look of surprise.

Before I left I had to look at the music books.
There I saw, Aerosmith, James Taylor, The Allman Brothers Band, Dave Miller Band, Bob Dylan, Steely Dan...I'll stop there.

Times have changed, but then again...

I fit right in. These were my guys.
They filled a large portion of the section for music books (Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell).

I reminsced as I looked through the books.
Those were the days my friend.
We sat in the park playing our guitars.
I played in bands, alone, on the road, in churches, anywhere and everywhere.
My guitar taught me to play a love song.
John Denver and all the other guys lined up on those shelves helped.

When I got ready to leave, I noticed all the young men behind the counter.
They smiled.
A relic.
Was that how they saw me.


I didn't feel so out of place.
I'm part of an era that is ageless.
No matter how many years pass, we remain young at heart.
Our music doesn't grow old,  it gets better with age.

I smiled at the young men behind the counter as I left.
I don't know what they were thinking.
But, it's ok.

I'm gonna rock on.

Who knows...
Maybe....
just maybe,  they secretly wanted my autograph.