Time

 Time

He, who knows no beginning or ending

numbered my days

before I lived even one.

They came to me,

a precious gift,

with the admonition

to use them wisely.

It seemed an endless chain

when first the gift was given,

but the links slipped through my fingers

with alarming speed

when once I paused to see.

Now, with lengths of chain

gathered at my feet,

I hold the remaining links

in tender grasp -

treasuring each one

as it falls to join the others.

It has grown far too quickly,

this mass of linked days,

I pray for wisdom to use

those that remain wisely.

Ever thankful that one day

it will truly be an endless chain.

In this season of my life, I count each day as grace and try to cherish every moment. The older I get, the more precious they become. 

Blessings,

Linda

God

The world hangs suspended in the universe

Never colliding

Each day people die and new life begins

Never stopping

Leaves die brilliantly and fall each autumn

Always returning

Birds fly south and then north again

Never forgetting

And yet some say there is no God.

I found this little poem tucked away in one of my little notebooks. I wrote it in high school, and it was published in our school paper. I thought I might share it now. It encourages me to look back at the Father's faithfulness in my life - despite this daughter's fickle heart.

Quiet

 

"My soul wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him."
Psalm 62:5

I will find Him in the silence.

There was a time, when I desperately needed to know, that I longed to hear His voice. I had heard testimonies prefaced by "The Lord told me...." or "The Lord spoke a word to me..." - and I longed for that experience in my own life. I would sit quietly, waiting.

There were times I thought I heard, only to discover it wasn't His voice at all. I began to question my faith, wondering what I was lacking.

I hesitate to write these words because I know that for some, the Father does speak in just that way. I don't question that. I think, perhaps, just as we are uniquely created - we hear His voice in individual ways.

He speaks to me in just the way I hear best. I am a timid soul and need much reassurance just to be sure. So He often begins to speak to me through His word. It settles into my heart and then He says it again - perhaps in the voice of my Pastor or a loved one or friend. He may even sing it over me - waking me up with the words of a fitting song on my mind. The words in a devotional or on a blog post echo the theme - and I know.

It is in the silence that all of those things come together. When I am bombarded by sound - the radio, the television, music - the words He has spoken get lost. I cannot call them to mind when my ears of full of noise. They cannot burrow deep into my heart, take seed and grow.

So these days, I seek the silence. When I walk alone, I don't bring along the music; when I'm alone at home, I turn off the radio. The quiet surrounds me, and I hear His voice.

Blessings,

Linda

Miracles

 This morning I pushed back the covers, peeked at the clock and decided it would be all right to rest awhile longer. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, closed my eyes and whispered a prayer. Nothing out of the "ordinary" - just requests for the miraculous. Some of them so often repeated, I wonder if I've become a bit of an annoyance. But I believe despite the shadow of doubt that tries to push its way into my heart.

So it always goes. But this morning a tiny shaft of light sliced through the darkness, and I saw what had been there all along - the miracles:

My prayer, my unspoken words, heard by the God who bends down low and listens. The One who is indescribable in His greatness listens to me. With more voices than I can count mounting to heaven, He hears mine. Miracle, miracle.

I opened my eyes and saw rays of sunshine peaking around the edges of the blinds on the living room windows. The sun, making its routine appearance. Miracle, miracle.

I pressed my hand against my chest and felt the rhythmic beating of my heart. The same heart I had seen during an echocardiogram - marveling at what I have taken for granted for nearly seven decades. Miracle, miracle.

For three springs in a row I've watched a pair of cardinals skillfully weave a nest and raise a family. Miracle, miracle.

The world spins, the seasons change, the seas rise and fall. Seeds are buried beneath the earth far from the sunshine and rain. At just the right time, new life pushes its way up through the darkness. Miracle, miracle.

They abound around us. So we pray: when it seems futile, when doubts threaten to overwhelm faith. The God of miracles is with you. Sometimes, for me, the miracle is in the knowing that whether or not I'm given the specific miracle I requested, I will be given what is best. Miracle, miracle.

Blessings,

Linda

*from the book Remember Me by Mary Higgins Clark

Lists

 Imagine with me, if you will, a conscientious young woman. She has a full, rich life as wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend and child of God (among other things). In order to manage the details of her varied and numerous roles she keeps a list. This list, she feels, grounds her - keeps her moving in the right direction at all times enabling her to accomplish all the necessary things in any given day.

Nothing gives her more satisfaction than to look at her list at the end of the day and see every single item checked off. Of course it doesn't work that way every day, but then she simply adds the unfinished tasks to the next day's list. She prayed the Lord was well pleased with her service. 

Keeping to this regimented way of life comes at a certain cost. Her over-crowded days leave very little time for the, seemingly, less urgent duties. For instance, it's difficult to sit still long enough to listen to a six year old's long-winded account of his day at school. Dinner is calling; the dryer just buzzed, and if she doesn't get the clothes folded right away she'll end up with a bunch of ironing. 

She has noticed that for days her twelve year old daughter just isn't herself. She makes a mental note to have a talk with her but first she has to call the parents in her middle child's Sunday school class to get volunteers for the teacher appreciation night. 

Her husband mentioned something about a problem at work, but there hasn't been a free moment to sit and talk. She meant to ask him about it as they lay in bed the other night, but her eyes closed in exhaustion before she could say a word.

 The next morning, before throwing back the covers and stepping into another busy day, she lays still a moment trying to figure out why she feels such an emptiness. If she were to ask her family, they would have no trouble answering her question. 

They would, with varying degrees of sadness, tell her she had gone far away from them. In spite of all the good things she did, she had neglected to do the one thing that mattered most. She had sacrificed relationship for her to-do list. Imagine with me, if you will, a conscientious young woman. She has a full, rich life as wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend and child of God (among other things). In order to manage the details of her varied and numerous roles she keeps a list. This list, she feels, grounds her - keeps her moving in the right direction at all times enabling her to accomplish all the necessary things in any given day.

Nothing gives her more satisfaction than to look at her list at the end of the day and see every single item checked off. Of course it doesn't work that way every day, but then she simply adds the unfinished tasks to the next day's list. She prayed the Lord was well pleased with her service. 

Keeping to this regimented way of life comes at a certain cost. Her over-crowded days leave very little time for the, seemingly, less urgent duties. For instance, it's difficult to sit still long enough to listen to a six year old's long-winded account of his day at school. Dinner is calling; the dryer just buzzed, and if she doesn't get the clothes folded right away she'll end up with a bunch of ironing. 

She has noticed that for days her twelve year old daughter just isn't herself. She makes a mental note to have a talk with her but first she has to call the parents in her middle child's Sunday school class to get volunteers for the teacher appreciation night. 

Her husband mentioned something about a problem at work, but there hasn't been a free moment to sit and talk. She meant to ask him about it as they lay in bed the other night, but her eyes closed in exhaustion before she could say a word.

 The next morning, before throwing back the covers and stepping into another busy day, she lays still a moment trying to figure out why she feels such an emptiness. If she were to ask her family, they would have no trouble answering her question. 

They would, with varying degrees of sadness, tell her she had gone far away from them. In spite of all the good things she did, she had neglected to do the one thing that mattered most. She had sacrificed relationship for her to-do list. 

I find I am all too prone to being like this young, well-meaning woman. Not only do I make my list of "things to do," there have been seasons where I have relegated my relationship with the Lord to another item on that list. Prayer - check; Bible reading - check; Bible Study lesson - check, until one day I acknowledge the emptiness in my heart. The Lord, whose approval I've been trying so hard to earn, seems so distant. 

All the while, He waits right where He has always been. He waits - longing to deepen our relationship - to draw me close and pour His life into mine. As I put my hand in His, He whispers His love into my heart and my list falls gently to the ground. 

"The Lord is near to all who call upon Him..." Ps. 145:18

Blessings,

Linda

Prayer

Prayer

When the day is softly waking

to the touch of warming sun.

When the dark is closing round me

it is at these times I come:

to the place of new beginnings

where all is joy and light

to the One who is my safety

throughout the darkest night

When I'm filled with guilt and sorrow

and I'm feeling so alone.

When my soul is tired and aching

it is at these times I come:

to the place of full assurance

where all is peace and rest

to the One who never changes

lay my head upon His breast.

When the heavens seem to echo

with my cry of deep despair.

When it seems He is not listening

is it true He does not care?

Is my faith too weak for answers?

Is my sin too great to cleanse?

Has He tuned His back in anger?

Has His love come to an end?

When the questions have no answers

and I want to turn and run.

When I raise my voice in anger,

it is then that I must come:

to the One whose ways are wiser

to the One whose ways are best

to the One who never changes

lay my head upon His breast.

Encouraging Words For the Weekend

 

For those times when we are helpless to move forward because we are overwhelmed with shame and regret over past mistakes and failures - a few words from the old hymn writers:

"He breaks the power of canceled sin,

  He sets the prisoner free;

  His blood can make the foulest clean,

  His blood availed for me."

Charles Wesley - O For A Thousand Tongues

"My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought:

  My sin, not in part but the whole,

  is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,

  praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!"

Horatio G. Spafford  - It Is Well With My Soul

"Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…"   Hebrews 12:2

Have a restful Sabbath, friends

Linda