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Archive for the ‘Prayer’ Category

Currently there are two hurricanes headed for the Gulf States; twin harbingers of chaos and destruction named Laura and Marco. Twins are like that you know. My mom used to tell of taking us three girls to Noah’s Five and Dime in Landis when we were small. My sisters who are twins would immediately wrench their little hands from our mother’s grasp and take off in different directions. It was a fun game of cat and mouse… until mama got them home. This regular occurrence was not due to lack of discipline. Believe me, there was plenty of that. I think it was more about what my two younger siblings considered to be fun. Apparently they inherited our daddy’s talent for mischief. I remember one time coming back to the house from the garden with mama and finding the screen door locked with those two goobers inside. Like a couple spider monkeys they sat on the kitchen counter with a box of vanilla wafers, stuffing as many in their mouths as possible. Through the screen mama implored them to unlatch the door.

“Cain’t,” mumbled one of them. “Stuck,” mumbled the other. Eventually mama convinced them to use the broom handle to pop the latch off. It took a while as there were many cookie breaks between tries. Sometimes I wonder how mama held it together raising us three. Of course I was a lovely child never prone to wander. So at least there was that.

As David and I watched the weather channel the other night detailing the projected paths of the twin hurricanes, the weather person pointed to the map and a large red swath moving inland from the Gulf. With a solemn voice meant to relay the severity of the situation she intoned. “This is the cone of uncertainty.”

We looked at each other and laughed. “Really? So that’s what that looks like! Only shouldn’t it cover the entire world at this point? Or at least our whole country?” If you’re like us, life feels a lot like a big fat cone of uncertainty. Chaos and destruction are reported on every hand. You can’t watch a Braves game without Covid being mentioned a hundred times. At least the victory celebrations have gotten more interesting. Grown men dancing in the outfield approximately six feet apart is kind of fun.

For now, I think I shall relax in the uncertainty. Though I am not one who likes surprises I’ve learned. It’s not about what I like. We’ve lived long enough to have suffered loss of loved ones, loss of homes, loss of churches and health and jobs. When you’ve been through a few crap storms you grow to realize. There is only One Who knows the end from the beginning. He is not surprised or caught off guard at our current events. The important thing to do is to pray. Hand it all to Him. I’m telling you this from experience. Giving Him the load to bear and trusting Him for the outcome is the only way to navigate the current cone of uncertainty. That way, when the dust settles, the troubles we have are not of our own making; like ulcers from worry, high blood pressure from irritation, or guilt from an angry response. In fact, I think a vanilla wafer might be in order. Perhaps with a little peanut butter. The world can yell through the screen door all it wants. The Lord is in charge of me. He alone is faithful.

 

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A Prayer I Can Pray

2019 would be the year. I was determined to read the Bible all the way through. I came close. But no cigar. A year and two months later I have one book left. Sweet holy Jeremiah! Can you be any sadder? Bless your heart. Every day I trudge amongst your words as if mucking my way through the Great Dismal Swamp. Lord, I know You needed to warn Your people, and us too. But for crying out loud… literally, can we please be done? I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Reluctantly I picked up where I’d left off the day before. There it was; Jeremiah’s prayer. The tenderness of it was so near to my own heart that it was as if a rare flower bloomed in the night of despair.

“I know LORD that our lives are not our own. We are not able to plan our own course. So correct me LORD, but please be gentle.” –Jeremiah 10:23,24a

How many times I’ve made plans and failed.

I WILL have more faith! I WILL be strong! In fact, I will mount up with wings as eagles! I will run and not grow weary! I will walk and not faint! I will buy a throw pillow that says “Dream Big!” and a poster that shouts “I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me!”

Then once again, my plans fail.

I’m too weak to fly, run, walk or shop for the pillows of spiritual unction.

So I pray with my new friend Jeremiah. I think he would understand.

“I know Lord that my life is not my own. I cannot plan my own course. So correct me Lord, but please…

According to Your tender mercy…

Please be gentle.”

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The Man by the Window

I heard a story years ago about two old men who shared a room in a convalescent home. One was confined to a bed by the window; the other to a bed by the door. Since neither of them was mobile, the man by the window would look out each day and describe what he saw below. He spoke of the beautiful park with children playing, couples walking hand in hand and other happy scenes unfolding. As seasons changed he took great effort to describe the lovely scenery. It seemed each day there was something new to share with his roommate.

At first the man by the door was delighted with the imagery. He looked forward to hearing if the young couple had returned with a baby stroller; what the weather was; or if the pear tree had blossomed yet.

As the months passed, something changed within his soul. A small root of bitterness developed. When his companion shared his observations of life outside, the man by the door enjoyed it less and less. Over the course of time he became jealous and longed to see for himself. Often he wished for the place beside the window.

One night he heard his roommate coughing. The man began to choke but could not call for help. Realizing his opportunity, the man by the door ignored him allowing him to die. After an appropriate amount of time he asked to be moved by the window. He waited with anticipation as the nurse opened the heavy drapes.

The window faced a blank brick wall.

~~~~~~~

I don’t know who wrote the story. I’ve had it tucked away for years. But I wanted to share it with you and add a prayer.

Lord, strengthen us against bitterness and jealousy. Help us find joy and bring pleasant moments to those around us, no matter how hard life gets. Strengthen me personally to be more like the man by the window.

“May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord my strength and my Redeemer.” –Psalm 19:14

Amen.

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Come Celebrate!

Hey Sweet Readers,

Would you please pray with me about something? My new novel, Hope Angels is a story about spiritual warfare. Interestingly I can’t get my order for the books to process. To say I’m a bit anxious would be an understatement. But God knows the prayers and sweat equity put into this work. He will handle the small details… like having a book release party this coming Thursday without books. Not sure why I’m surprised. It’s kinda how I roll. At least my life is always full of surprises. Annyyywayyy….

I’d love to see you! Stop in and see if my books come in time. If not, I’ll just take orders. Thanks for praying!

Book Release Party

Thursday, November 15,

10:30 am- 5:30 pm

at Attractions on Main, 

2130 S. Main, Salisbury, NC

Deborah has big plans for a wonderful sale that same day. $10 off many items and Angel tops half off while supplies last. You are going to love her shop! See you there!

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Dream Big. Pray Bigger!

Have you ever had a big dream?

Not one of those nightmares where you can’t find a bathroom; or worse, you forgot your Aldi quarter.

No, this would be a dream that sets your heart on fire with hope.

I used to dream of opening a bakery slash coffee shop. It would be a place where friends would meet to enjoy homemade baked goods with a hot cup of comfort. Everybody would know everyone else’s name… kind of a Cheer’s without beers.

Someone approached me about opening such a place in my home town. The building and finances were available. I was so excited! David and I drew up a floor plan and included a private room off the back where folks could have Life Group meetings. Often we pulled into the parking lot of my future coffee shop and prayed together that the Lord would work out the details.

I began collecting recipes and trying out new desserts on friends and family. Someone gave me a huge industrial mixer. Another friend who owns a coffee shop in Lexington spent time sharing advice on managing such a place. He even had a very expensive industrial cappuccino maker that he gave me to try out at home for a while. With his help and the help of my daughter who had previously owned a bakery, I drew up a business plan. We tossed around names for the shop and searched the internet for ideas. I talked with city officials as well as the health department so we would do things in the correct order.

We continued to pray for God’s blessing and guidance. I dreamed about that place night and day. Our goal was to have it up and running in the fall of 2010.

Then the wheels fell off.

Finances for the coffee shop fell through. Plans were pushed to the back burner. But it no longer mattered as my health deteriorated. I had quit my job of twenty years at the front desk in a small school to pursue my big dream. Suddenly I couldn’t work at all. In fact, I could barely function or do stuff around the house without being in a great deal of pain. Though we still pulled into the parking lot of the empty building to pray, it no longer seemed right. We had our answer. Like a dump truck load of reality, the wisdom we asked God for came. It was not His will for us to pursue the dream.

I have to say, I was sad for a while. It’s hard to hear the word no. My idea notebook was tossed aside. Little by little I gained peace of mind regarding the project. Red flags popped up here and there causing me to give thanks that the plan fell through. On the days when I hurt too much to get out of bed, I praised God that no one was counting on me for their cuppa joe. That could’ve gotten ugly!

Eventually we pulled into that parking lot one last time and said a prayer of thanks as we let the dream go. Praise God He is wiser than our big ideas, even when our best intention is to glorify Him.

I was reminded of that difficult time in our lives the other morning. A squirrel had dreamed of how wonderful it would be if he could get the top off our bird feeder and crawl inside.

So he did.

Then the lid snapped shut and he couldn’t get out.

I hate to admit how hard I laughed. Finally he was able to poke his head through the top and scamper out.

One of the mantras going around right now is “Dream Big.”

It’s fine to dream. But it’s wise to pray bigger. God might save us from crawling into something where the lid snaps shut and we can’t get out.

Only by looking back can I see that He saved me from a world of grief.

Praise God! He is wiser than our dreams.

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September 29th, 2016 was my last big chemo treatment… the kind that makes a person instantly old. After that came the “lesser” chemo every three weeks; surgery to remove a cancerous tumor and eleven lymph nodes; then thirty radiation treatments. All that was completed this past June followed up by hormone therapy. Hopefully those drugs will keep the devilish disease from returning.

Praise God I lived to tell about it! Now I have sense enough to really be thankful for things I missed while going through treatment; Simple things like sleep. I rest so well now that I’m back to snoring loud enough to rattle the windows. In fact, I’m so loud that I may be responsible for the zombie movement since I surely wake the dead.

I’m thankful for food that I used to love but couldn’t stand the taste of while taking chemo. Things like coffee, chocolate and fried chicken that David makes in his mom’s old electric frying pan. Oh how wonderful. He skins it then soaks it in milk, rolls it in flour and the crust is to die for! I even love the wonderful aroma of it cooking. Last year I would hurl at the thought. David literally lost twenty pounds while I was sick because he tried not to eat in front of me. Well, that and a boatload of worry when I prayed stupid stuff like, “Lord Jesus! Just take me home!”

Bless his heart.

I’m thankful for friends and family. Though I loved these folks before, something about a friend stopping by with a new nightgown she happened upon at Marshall’s’; brown sugar bagels from Panera’s; a new hat and a funny story… it felt a lot like love. One day I found a bright red picnic basket outside the door filled with lotion, lip balm, a funny coffee mug, garden clogs and flip flops. Just thinking about being strong enough to walk outside and have a picnic or work in the yard felt a lot like hope.

I’m thankful most of all for so many prayers and messages telling me often that folks were praying for me. In a time when I couldn’t process the words of Scripture, though I knew they were true, others lifted me up. A pastor friend stopped by and I told him of my struggles. Having been with many folks going through chemo he related that one of them said his brain was so foggy that reading the Bible was like reading a can of soup. It meant nothing. The pastor’s kind words helped me past the guilt I was experiencing to an understanding that God had not left my side. It felt a lot like faith.

I’m thankful for David. I knew to be thankful before I got cancer. But something about having a husband who cleans up behind a grown woman who is too sick to make it to the bathroom in time really shows what a man is made of. Again, bless his sweet heart. His kind example of faith, hope and love felt a lot like grace.

And lest I spiritualize things too much, I have to admit that I’m thankful for hair. Apparently God looked down at the curly bob I’ve worn since the eighties and said, “Enough of that girl! You need a new doo!” He grew it back, curled it not quite as tight and even gave me a few sprigs to pull toward my ample forehead. I imagine He smiled at His work and said, “Not bad for an old chick.” I know it’s vain, but I can’t even tell you how happy I am to finally have hair. It feels a lot like joy.

I have to say, I think I owe my life to you. Remember the story in the Bible of the men who carried their friend on a cot to Jesus? The place was so crowded they lifted him onto the roof. I reckon they had a pulley system of some sort. They removed the roof tiles and let him down right in front of Jesus. Luke 5:20 says that Jesus healed the man and forgave his sins when he saw the faith of his friends.

When I was so weak I had to be carried, you my friends lifted me up to the Lord in prayer. You faithfully asked Him to heal me. Praise God He did! It feels like faith, hope, love and grace rolled into a great big bundle of joy!

Yes! I’m so thankful!

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Boldly Go

The woman looked awful. A sudden migraine drop kicked her into that terrible place where she thought she might die and wished she’d hurry up. She wobbled to my office window and requested a sub. First grade teachers cannot leave all willy-nilly just because they’re dying. Everyone knows death for a teacher requires at least a two week notice.

“Yes!” I assured her. “I’ll find someone to fill in for you until a substitute can get here.” About that time, my sweet husband happened by to see me. He had walked over from the middle school during his planning period. “Hey Huuuuunnnney… could you please watch her class for a few minutes?”

When the longest forty-five minutes of his life were finally over, again he stopped by my office. “How’d it go?” I asked sympathetically. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Kindergarten Cop he responded, “They were HORRIBLE. They pat you with their sticky little hands. Why do they do that?”

It seems my sweetheart was not designed to meet the needs of tiny people. Gladly he’d endure the purgatory called middle school. But never again would he willingly subject himself to the abyss known as elementary.

With another school year starting, I’d like to extend my great appreciation and a backpack full of “Bless your hearts” to the educators. I must say, you remind me of Jesus… except that He didn’t have to do bulletin boards.

People pulled and tugged and confronted and accused and begged of Him continuously. So. Many. Needs. I bet the children even patted him with their fishy little hands. Yet He kept opening His weary arms to accept the least of these.

I find it interesting that while “vast crowds came to hear Him preach and be healed of their diseases,” Luke 5:16 gives us a little insight into Jesus’ strategy for coping. He “often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.”

Don’t worry. This is not where you’re guilted into adding one more thing to your very long list. Take this as an observation from an old chick who served amongst the good, the bad and the ugly for five years in one school and twenty in another.

Prayer changes everything.

No, you probably won’t have time to withdraw to some hidey hole where thou shalt kneel for a quiet “sweet hour of prayer.” But a mindset of bringing a child or family before the Lord as you’re dealing with them really helps. If your prayer sounds like, “Lord help little Pookie Bear lest I shake him til his teeth rattle.” God knows his need… and yours. I promise. I’ve seen it firsthand. Prayer changes everything. Mostly it changed me. Besides I figure since Jesus Christ, the perfect Son of God prayed often, we might benefit from a cry for help too.

So thank you dear Teachers.

Lord help you dear Assistants.

Bless you dear Office Personnel.

bikes

There’s always one that has to be different.

God love you dear Principal.

What a wonderful calling you have! To bring out the best in so many lives! Like Captain Kirk on the Starship Enterprise, may you boldly take others where they have never been before!

And like Jesus, may God give you strength to open weary arms to the very least of these.

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Jesse Wants More

It’s too late now. Jesse has had a taste of the good stuff. And he wants more. How do we know since he is only one and a half and says only a few select words?

Typically he and his sister aren’t fed sweets just yet. Therefore they still think green peas and carrots and bananas ARE the good stuff. But a few weeks ago, when they came down with a horrible stomach virus and couldn’t stand the sight of food, Hannah introduced them to zucchini bread. If you’ve never had this manna from heaven, I am sincerely sorry for your very sad life. It’s so wonderful with all its healthy yumminess. Jesse did eat and fell in love.

His mom was pretty happy about this turn of events since he had burst into tears at the sight of plain noodles just the day before. Not a good sign for a little boy who normally eats anything placed in front of him.

As he stood as tall as his three foot frame would stretch, he pointed to the bread on the kitchen counter, bumped his little fists together signing, “More!” Hannah said his eyes pleaded like the Puss ‘n Boots of Shrek with great anticipation.

How could a mother say no?

That’s what she gets for being all smart and teaching her kids sign language for “more.”

I remember last Spring asking the Lord for more. I remember David and me praying together that if the Lord wanted something different for us that He would make that happen.

He heard us.

It’s in process.

With our eyes turned toward heaven like animated movie characters, we anticipate His answer. We don’t know what that will look like just yet. But as sweet as our daughter Hannah parents her children, we know the Lord is even better.

I cannot even fathom what could be more wonderful than zucchini bread!

But I can’t wait!

Jesse more 1

 

Jesse more 2

 

Jesse more

 

Jesse more 4

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Sometimes we forget how great our God is. Then suddenly He takes the most hopeless situation and does something so wonderful that we have to stand in awe of His great care.

Two years ago today, a little baby boy was born… eleven weeks early. We were so afraid. A kind young pastor came and sat with us as we waited. Friends stopped by to show their care. Family brought food to the waiting room as the doctor performed emergency surgery. Loved ones called and offered help. I dropped my cell phone and watched it explode on the sidewalk just as I was trying to call my daddy. David and I held hands and tried to be strong for our daughter and son-in-law.

And everyone prayed.

Finally we got the news. Our daughter Amanda would be ok. Our tiny grandson was alive! They named him Able because,

“All glory to God, Who is able through His mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” –Ephesians 3:20

Oh what a promise!

When a situation seems hopeless…

when we fear the worst…

and especially when we are completely out of options…

Our God is able!

Happy Birthday beloved Able! You are a constant reminder of God’s great care!

Able wired

Able dedication

Able gram

AbleHat

Ableslide

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Longtime friends stopped by on my birthday. Longtime friends are the ones who know all the stuff about us but love us anyway, and have for a long, long time. Written inside the card was, “Why should your retirement plan be any different than mine?” Enclosed was a lottery ticket.

Yep. They’re heathens.

Because you KNOW that only the chiefest of sinners buy lottery tickets.

Did we have fun scratching off the boxes? Yes we did. “Lord, it was the friends YOU gave us that led us to such debauchery.”

Did we win a bunch of money of which we would have surely tithed?

Nope.

photo (12)

But wait! There’s more!

They also gave me suet for the birds and a little cage thing to put it in. They know how to party… and how much I love watching my backyard birds. One morning as they scrambled to find food in the beautiful snow [the birds, not my friends] I heard myself praying, “Lord, help them find the new suet box hanging from the dogwood.”

Bahahahahah!

Like the Lord needs my instruction to feed the birds.

I think a lot of my prayers are like that.

Hey God. Here’s what You need to do about that particular situation.

Sometimes we sound like the disciples the time they asked Jesus, “Would You like us to pray fire down from heaven to consume the whole bunch of them? We’d be glad to do that. In fact we LOVE the wrath of God… unless it pertains to us. Then… not so much.”

No wonder we need the Lord to teach us to pray,

and react,

and think,

and serve,

and be.

“Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you more valuable to Him than they are?” –Matthew 6:26

 

Would you look out there!

The birds found the suet!

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