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.