Catching Up!

Time is so elusive . . . especially between the holidays and seasons of Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years.   How does it slip away?  Family feasts and gatherings, Christmas pageants and children rehearsing, more getting together to share the specialness of Christmas, and there it is, the New Year. 

As you can see by the date on this blog and the last one, several days have slipped by in the hustle and bustle of the seasons.  Not to mention the sudden invasion of some kind of bug into my head and throat sending me to bed for a few days.  But I came across some verses today that really resounded with me regarding healing.  I want to share them with you.

² Praise the LORD, my soul,
   and forget not all his benefits—
³ who forgives all your sins
   and heals all your diseases,
⁴ who redeems your life from the pit
   and crowns you with love and compassion.

Psalm 103:2-4 NIV

I spent a great deal of time fretting during my short illness over the things I could not accomplish nor get done.  Not once did I ponder the "benefits" of the Lord.  Oh, I know how beneficial my relationship is with Him, but how often do I actually take the time to consider all the benefits He provides each one of us.  Rarely, do we take the time to "taste and see that the Lord is good."  These verses from Psalm 103 opened my eyes and heart to the glorious nature of our relationship with our Lord -- the forgiveness of our sins, the healing of our bodies and minds, and above all, the redemption that only He can render with unconditional love and compassion. 

Won't you consider this benefit package from on high?  Perhaps you've been looking for a relationship with benefits . . . look no further!

Between Christmas and New Year's

The week between Christmas and New Year's is not only a time for looking forward but for looking back.  Since Christmas Day, I've had some time to sit down and knit and try to progress on a couple of projects.  I began reflecting on my early days of knitting, a time when someone special took the time to teach me.  It was my sister-in-law, Ann.  Ann was married to my older brother, and they had between them seven children.  Ann was busy . . . every day she was busy.  Somehow she found the time to spend with an 18-year old girl to teach her how to knit.

I remember watching Ann knit and carry on conversations, watch TV, do a

lot of mental multi-tasking, and she never dropped a stitch that I recall.  I was absolutely amazed at her ability to do this.  I wanted to be like Ann in so many ways, but most of all to be filled with the same kind of spirit that filled her -- God's spirit, the Holy Spirit, Jesus love. 

As I've been knitting lately, I've reflected on Ann's life and the end of her life quite a few years ago.  Ann was diagnosed at age 56 with Lou Gehrig's disease, or ALS, and eventually the disease took her ability to do so much with her hands . . . not only knitting, but play the piano, the organ, cook, clean, her accounting work.  And the disease took the use of every part of her except her mind.  It was a horrid disease, and early on Ann would say she could tell which muscle was dying.

The one thing the disease couldn't and didn't take from Ann was that spirit of living in God's spirit, sharing Jesus' amazing love, and showing the Holy Spirit shining through her with an incredibly dazzling smile.  I knit now and know that I was left not only with a skill that I love to use to share God's love by knitting charity caps for school-aged children in our area, but with the memory of Ann, all of her, shared with me because she was filled with that special gift of spirit.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that

you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13 (NIV)

Fourth Sunday in Advent

"She will bring a son to birth, and when she does, you, Joseph,

will name him Jesus—'God saves'—because he will save his people

from their sins." This would bring the prophet's embryonic sermon to full term:

   'Watch for this—a virgin will get pregnant and bear a son;
   They will name him Immanuel (Hebrew for "God is with us").'"

(Matthew 1:21-23) 

As I patiently wait for Christmas to arrive, I can hardly imagine the daunting emotions surrounding Mary and Joseph as they wait to see what unfolds for them as a result of God's master plan.  It is hard to even think of being in even similar circumstances.

When I was a child, the anticipation of Christmas filled me with excitement, I became a fidgety kid, and it seemed the days would never pass.  Christmas Eve was the hardest because I couldn't go to sleep for wondering about what Santa would bring, what the presents held under the tree, and what the next day would be like.  All unknowns to a child waiting patiently, or impatiently, for everything to be revealed to her.

Now that child has grown up and she is a great-grandmother.  Other children wait and become overly excited.  My waiting now has a different flavor, if you will -- it is filled with sweetness, joy and the knowledge of that very special gift God sent to us, Immanuel (God with us), Jesus (God saves).  Patient expectation allows me to savor every word, thought and musical sound that leads up to the night that the star shone down on a tiny stable in Bethlemen.  I can almost taste it . . . it is getting closer . . . patiently I'm waiting.



Experiencing Change and Constancy Together

Have you noticed?  Change is happening.  I can smell it, see it, hear it, feel it, with all my senses.  First, change in nature.  Autumn just smells different than other seasons -- the smell of that first fall rain, the last blossoms of summer flowers, the hint of burning leaves, new aromas float from the kitchen as we cook more soups and stews and less of summer fare.  I often close my eyes in autumn so that when I open them I'm startled at the cacophony of colors surrounding me -- greens still hanging on, slightly turning into golds, oranges, browns, and the crisp blue of the sky overhead and the sun blazing its golden rays.  Such beauty, such an artful palette of colors only He can create and bring together in such boldness.

And then come my ears saying, "Hear that?"  Can you hear it?  Sounds are different as the seasons change.  In autumn, the train that runs nearby has seems a little farther away as its whistle blows.  There are the sounds of children walking or running on fallen leaves to their bus stops in the morning.  The of yard cleanup readying hearth and home for winter also filter through the crisp, fall air.  And the squirrels and birds begin their chatter of winter preparation -- packing away foods and building nests to protect their young.  Such a story is hidden in the sounds of autumn and every other season that only God could have written it so that all the pieces fall into such elegant place to turn, turn, turn when it’s time.

Experiencing the change of autumn -- whatever do you mean you may ask.  For me, experiential is a feeling that grows from within me as the elements of my world move around me.  So, experiencing autumn is the culmination of everything God has put in place to allow me to worship during another season in this wonderful chapel we call earth and our home.  It's the feeling of a grand plan created by and executed by our Heavenly Father for each of us to enjoy from the smallest to the largest, the youngest to the oldest, the poorest to the richest. 

Other changes I perceive in autumn are the ones that I'm going through.  I'm almost at the end of my 64th year, and I know that life is changing.  My joints aren't as supple as they once were.  Gray hair near my temples reminds me of my father's hairline as he aged.  I'm told by others I have hardly any wrinkles at all; they must need glasses for I can see them.  Most displeasing of all is the fact that I cannot accomplish in one day what I could when I was 30!  In God's plan, yes, I'm changing too.

During all this change, I move to the comfort of words that remind me God is not changing, but constant in everything and for everyone. In Romans 15:3, we are told that "'[He] took on the troubles of the troubled," is the way Scripture puts it. Even if it was written in Scripture long ago, you can be sure it's written for us. God wants the combination of his steady, constant calling and warm, personal counsel in Scripture to come to characterize us . . . '."  (The Message).

So, won’t you open your eyes and ears not only to the changes going on around you in nature, in your life, in our world, but also to the constancy and dependability of our God?

The Sycamore Tree

I can see it as if it were yesterday -- the big old sycamore tree in our front yard.  I was only 5 or 6 years old and this tree seemed enormous.  It was a favorite place of mine in the center of the front yard.  I loved to lie on the ground on summer days and look up through its branches at the glimpses of blue sky and white, fluffy clouds.  And that's where I dreamed imagining the clouds were moving along with me to places of fantasy, strange places and transporting me to another time and place. 

That's what dreams are about at any age, aren't they?  Another place, another time, another country, another whatever.  Dreams can take us away from the every day drudgery that becomes so common place that it bores us to tears.  And then dreams can fall apart and disappoint us.  Sometimes they become so real to us that their inability to come to fruition is sensed as failure.

Painful News

Not all news is good.  We all have learned that.  Somehow though we forget and suddenly we're caught offguard much like we were this week.  A dear friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer, so agressive a double mastectomy is recommended.  Another friend is said to be undergoing cancer surgery soon.  Yet another friend is near the end of his battle with a tumor similar to that which took the life Sen. Edward (Ted) Kennedy.

The latter we knew was coming sooner or later, and yet the news that things were "nearing the end of the road" came as shocking.  The other two bits of news came at us right out of left field, so to speak.  Painful news no matter how we sorted it out.  And what do we do with such news?  How do we help those who must be suffering the agonies of coping with staggering diagnoses and the loss of one's mate of 43 years?

In my world, there is only one way.  Turn to the Master of all.  Lay my prayers at His feet and petition His grace, comfort, and perhaps healing in some instances.  "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."  ~~ Matthew 28:20.  Such comfort to know that He is always there, even to the last breath we take.  This is all I can offer right now -- my prayers, my faith, my hope, and this Scripture.