Some Things to Share

It has been one of those days - up early and out the door - running all day long. Consequently....I don't have a proper post for today. There are however, a couple of new and interesting things happening that I am eager to share with you.

Perhaps you've noticed the lovely Victorian lady in my sidebar. She came from Tonia's blog, Study in Brown. Tonia has decided to resurrect a club she formed years ago. I think if you go here and read what she has in mind, you will be delighted.













Over at Culture Smith, Cheryl is looking for innovative ideas on simplifying life. I am sure that most of you have things you would like to share. Every Saturday she will provide a place to share ideas. Who of us couldn't use a little help in simplifying our lives? I could use quite a bit of it to tell the truth. My days seem to just rush by at breakneck speed. I want to slow things down and savor the moments.














There is one more thing I'd like to share with you. I imagine that by now nearly everyone knows about Ann Voskamp's book. If you've ever read her blog, A Holy Experience, you know what a gifted writer she is. I have just begun reading "a thousand gifts." Some have described it as life-changing,and I don't think they exaggerate. I recommend it with all my heart. There will even be a Bloom Book Club beginning this sunday with videos of Ann discussing her book.



Blessings,
Linda

"When We All Get To Heaven":

This gentle-looking woman is Eliza Edmunds Hewitt. She was born on June 28, 1851 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where she lived her entire life. After graduating as valedictorian of the Girl's Normal School, she became a public school teacher.

It was while she was teaching that she suffered a severe spinal injury. One of the students is said to have hit her with a piece of slate. The injury was so severe her doctor put her in a body cast, and she spent many long months confined to her bed.

It was during this time that she studied English literature and began writing hymns. She eventually recovered but was a semi-invalid all of her life. It never dampened her bright spirit. Rather it deepened her faith and her walk with the Lord.

Eliza died on April 24, 1920.

Among the many hymns she wrote is this one:

When We All Get To Heaven
Sing the wondrous love of Jesus,
Sing His mercy and His grace.
In the mansions bright and blessèd
He’ll prepare for us a place.

Refrain:

When we all get to Heaven,
What a day of rejoicing that will be!
When we all see Jesus,
We’ll sing and shout the victory!

While we walk the pilgrim pathway,
Clouds will overspread the sky;
But when traveling days are over,
Not a shadow, not a sigh.

Refrain

Let us then be true and faithful,
Trusting, serving every day;
Just one glimpse of Him in glory
Will the toils of life repay.

Refrain

Onward to the prize before us!
Soon His beauty we'll behold;
Soon the pearly gates will open,
We shall tread the streets of gold.

Refrain

Such a glorious hymn of hope and encouragement, written during a time of pain and suffering. It was a joy to learn just a little bit about this dear lady.

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - Women

I am joining Lisa-Jo today for her "Five Minute Friday".
Ready, set, go:

The difference between men and women was never more apparent than during a conversation I was having with my husband. He had been talking for weeks about the great guy he was working with. He would fill me in each evening on all the things they were doing at work and how enjoyable it was working with him.

One evening I asked if the guy was married. He just gave me a blank look. "Does he have children?" More crickets chirping....
I couldn't believe he had spent all that time with this man and didn't know anything personal about him.

I think of my own interactions with other women and see the wide gulf that separates we girls from the boys. I don't think it takes more than a few minutes before we know each others marital status. We exchange information about children and by the time the conversation is coming to a close we have begun to share on a deeper level.

I have come away from conversations with women I have just met casually and will probably never see again with more information than my husband gleaned in weeks of working with his friend.

Stop

Five minutes go by so quickly!

picture: me and my precious friends

Blessings,
Linda

When

When the noise rains
all around me,
Lead me beside quiet waters
that I might hear Your voice.

When worry and anxiety
bow me low,
Lift my spirits
with words of promise.

When discouragement clouds my view
for lack of worldly praise,
Draw my eyes to Your face
that I might see true worth.

When the circumstances
beat me down,
Hide me in the shelter
of Your wings.

When my steps grow weary
and I think I can't go on
Carry me, cradle me
in Your strong arms.

When my heart beats wild
with fear and doubt,
Still the throbbing
with the gift of faith.

"For You are my hiding place
You protect me from trouble
You surround me with songs of victory."*

*Psalm 32:7

linking to One Stop Poetry and to Emily's imperfect prose

Blessings,
Linda

Slowing Down

My Aunt Fannie introduced me to knitting when I was just a little girl. I have loved it ever since. There is something about it that soothes my spirit. I find that if I set it aside for any length of time, I am eventually drawn back to it - longing to feel the needles in my hands.

Some time last year I discovered that there is another style of knitting. Aunt Fannie taught me to knit English Style, but there is also Continental Style. Some of the other bloggers knit that way and said they found it to be much faster. Hmmm...faster. I decided to give it a try.

I printed out instructions, but found it difficult to teach my fingers to do something new. I decided to visit you-tube to see if there were any helpful videos, which of course there were. It is much easier for me to learn something new if I can see it. Before long I was knitting Continental Style and just zipping right along.

I was in the process of knitting a sweater (just as quickly as I could), when I took a good hard look at my knitting. The stitches looked strange. They were no longer uniform and neat; they were uneven and rather messy looking. It seems I had traded fast for quality.

I kept looking at those stitches and finally could stand it no longer. I ripped out all the work I had done and went back to knitting English Style - the one that was comfortable for me. It is true it takes a bit longer, but the finished product was so much more satisfying.

I realized something else as I began knitting all over again - it was the process I enjoyed. It didn't have to be accomplished quickly. I got that sense of peace when I took my time and relaxed as stitch after stitch eventually formed something special.

It is what I am trying to do with every area of my life as I think about "Quiet" this year. To step back and slow down and savor the moments. I miss so much when my life is hurried - running from one thing to the next with little time to even think about what I'm doing. I know it is necessary sometimes, but surely there are moments to be savored. Conversations with loved ones, reading a book, doing things around the house, reading posts and leaving thoughtful comments... so many moments that can slip through my fingers when I am anxious to get through them so I can get on to the next thing.

Quiet my heart Lord and help me to savor the moments.

Blessings,
Linda

Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my Dad's 91st birthday.

He brings such joy and "spice" to our lives. We love you Dad.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Blessings,
Linda

Cherish the Moments

We have always been close. She is, aside from my husband, my best friend - the first one I call with good news, with the hard things, when I need wisdom, or just to talk. She always has time; she always has.

I drew the little rocking chair, the one with the colorful little patchwork quilt she made for Dad hanging over the back, up close to the armchair where she sits surrounded by the things she loves to do. We had two little baskets on the footstool between us - baskets filled with a rainbow assortment of tatting thread.

"Just look through them and take as many as you want. I'll never use them all up." It's the sort of thing she says often lately. She is beginning to give away some of her treasured things. "I want to give them to the ones I know will appreciate them." she says with her dear smile.

For my birthday she gave me a dozen of her little antique salt cellars to add to my collection. Little glass eye wash cups went to my daughter on her birthday. I carried a bag filled with yarn, ribbons, and an assortment of trinkets to the grandchildren on our last visit. We take these gifts of the heart reluctantly, knowing what they foretell.

So we bent our heads over the little baskets filled with thread and talked about nothing significant. We laughed and remembered, and in my mind's eye I stepped back and imprinted the moment on my heart. I want to cherish it. I don't want to ever forget how precious these moments are or get so busy I rush by them.

More and more often I greet the day with a pray of thanks that I have just this one. I don't know how many more there will be, but I have this one precious day. I want to live it well and gather its moments to my heart.

Blessings,
Linda

linking to Emily's imperfect prose

picture: me and Mom

Prayer

You hear me when I pray
Words flowing full and free
Though others call Your Name
I know You hear me

So many voices raised
In sorrow, joy or pain
You bend to hear my voice
I am Your only child

linking to One Stop Poetry today

Blessings,
Linda

Harrison

I am writing at Laced With Grace today. If you'd like to read about Harrison the goldfish, please join me there.

Blessings,
Linda

A Thousand Gifts

Mondays are always busy days. Up and out to go to the grocery store in the morning. Before I know it half the day is gone, and there is still that pesky laundry to do and clean sheets to be put on the bed and mustn't skip the work-out and really must practice piano...

The temptation to skip writing a blog post is always there. But today is Monday, the day we gather at Ann's to share our lists of God's gracious hand in our lives. So, although it is very late, I add my thanks:

Thank you faithful Father for:

- Ann; for her faithful sharing of the words You place in her heart; for this new book filled with the story of grace; for the gift of her

- friends whose encouraging words speak grace into my life

- our 44th Wedding Anniversary The days fly swiftly and suddenly become years, and the love grows deeper and richer.

- flowers

- laughter

- sweet memories

- loving us, even when we walked so far away

- taking two, making us five and finally making us fifteen (and perhaps more to come) - oh the richness of Your blessings

- grace - always grace

Blessings,
Linda

"Blessed Assurance"

"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
O what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
born of his Spirit, washed in his blood.

Refrain:
This is my story, this is my song,
praising my Savior all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
praising my Savior all the day long.

Perfect submission, perfect delight,
visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angels descending bring from above
echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
(Refrain)

Perfect submission, all is at rest;
I in my Savior am happy and blest,
Watching and waiting, looking above,
filled with His goodness, lost in His love."
(Refrain)

Fanny J. Crosby 1820 - 1915

Blessed Assurance is just one of the nearly 9000 hymns penned by Fanny Crosby. As remarkable as that is in itself, it is even more remarkable when you consider that she was blind.

Fanny was not born blind. When she was six weeks old, she became ill. The family doctor was away, so another doctor attended the infant. His treatment included applying hot poultices to her eyes which resulted in blindness. It was subsequently discovered that this doctor was a quack, and he quickly disappeared from the area.

Instead of growing up with bitterness and anger over what surely seemed so unfair, Fanny lived her life with joyful acceptance. When only eight years old she wrote this little poem:

"Oh, what a happy soul I am,
captionhough I cannot see!
I am resolved that in this world
Contented I will be.

How many blessings I enjoy
That other people don't,
To weep and sigh because I'm blind
I cannot, and I won't"

As a child she memorized large portions of scripture - five chapters a week. She could recite the Pentateuch, the Gospels, Proverbs, Song of Solomon and many Psalms.

At the age of 15 she was sent to the N.Y. Institute for the Blind. She remained there for 23 years - 12 years as a student and 11 years as a teacher. She continued to write poetry while at the institute but was not encouraged by her teachers who felt it a distraction to her studies. It was a visit from William Cullen Bryant that changed everything. After reading some of her verse, he encouraged her to keep writing. "He never knew how much he did by those few words," she said afterward.

By the age of 23 Fanny was reading her verse before Congress. In her lifetime, she knew all the presidents personally. She was one of the best known women in the United States.

In 1858 she married a former student from the Institute - Alexander Van Alstyne. He was considered on of New York's best organists and wrote the music to many of Fanny's hymns. They had one daughter who died in infancy.

Among the hymns she wrote are:
"A Shelter in the Time of Storm"
"Near the Cross'
"He Hideth My Soul"
"Redeemed"
"Tell Me the Story of Jesus"

Fanny continued to write poetry right up until the time of her death. She lived to be nearly 95.

There is so much more to her story. Hers was an amazing life of absolute dedication to the Lord. You can easily find more if you are interested. I just want to include one more remarkable quote from this wonderful poetess:
"Blindness can not keep the sunlight of hope from the trustful soul. One of the easiest resolves that I formed in my young and joyous heart was to leave all care to yesterday, and to believe that the morning would bring forth its own peculiar joy."



Blessings,
Linda

The Crow

This is my "contribution" to Lisa-Jo's Five Minute Friday. Hop on over to her place and join in the fun.


Start:
I heard him before I saw him. He sounded like a duck and so I looked into the sky to see if I could see him. Nothing. But perched on top of the telephone pole was a huge crow.

I could hardly believe it. Crows don't live here in my little south Texas town. Grackles, yes - but not crows. I looked closer to see if perhaps it was a turkey vulture after all. However it was definitely a crow. Amazing!

I saw him again a few days later. He looked so lonely. I couldn't imagine how he happened to turn up here. Had he taken a wrong turn somewhere during a migration south? Do crows migrate? I don't think so.

He sounded so mournful, cawing plaintively from his perch on yet another telephone pole. My neighbor said she had seen him too when she was out walking. Perhaps he was longing for some company - a friendly face to point him toward home.

I saw him again this morning. He flew overhead before taking up his usual position. I confess, I tried cawing back. I don't think I did a very convincing "caw."

Stop:

Blessings,
Linda

Approval

Yearning to belong
Changing to fit in
Longing to hear praises
Finding worth therein

Growing into wisdom
Learning of true worth
Found in His approval
Came with my new birth.

This is my poem for the Random Acts of Poetry prompt at The High Calling.
I am also linking to Emily's imperfect prose (you must read her post - it is so beautiful)

Blessings,
Linda

The Father's Plan

There was a plan
Before time began
Birthed in the Father's heart.
A wonderful plan,
A woman and man
In a garden set apart.

"We'll make day and night,
Fill the sky with light,"
Said the Father to His Son.
"A perfect place,
Filled with peace and grace
Where we'll fellowship as one."

"A wonderful plan
To create a man,"
Said the Father with aching heart.
"But before it is done,
My precious Son,
You will have to do Your part."

Before time began
He knew the plan,
This perfect, sinless Son.
And with loving heart said,
"Let us start,
I am willing to be the One."

linking to One Stop Poetry

Blessings,
Linda

Under His Wings

"He found him in a desert land,
And in the howling waste of a wilderness;
He encircled him, He cared for him,
He guarded him as the pupil of His eye.

Like an eagle that stirs up its nest,
That hovers over its young,
He spread His wings and caught them,
He carried them on His pinions."

Deuteronomy 32: 10,11

These verses are a beautiful illustration of the Lord's tender care. When I read them, I felt so loved, so protected, so cherished. Picture Him encircling you so that no harm can come to you - guarding you as carefully as He would His own eye.

Picture Him making a comfortable place for you to rest, and then hovering over you to make sure all is well.

Imagine taking flight on your own and beginning to fall, only to have Him swoop down and catch you with His strong wings. Then rest in the sure knowledge that He will carry you to safety.

I am thankful:

- for the Father's infinite care

- that He loves each of us with such tenderness

- for the safety and strength of His wings

- for rest in His presence

- that in the midst of a chaotic world we have a place of safety

- that He is control

- for new beginnings

- for soft candle light and sweet aromas

- for rain

- for mercy and grace

linking (a wee bit late) to Ann's gratitude community



Blessings,
Linda

Photo - courtesy of photobucket

" 'Tis So Sweet To Trust In Jesus"

"'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His word;
Just to rest upon His promise;
Just to know,"Thus saith the Lord."

chorus:
Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I've proved Him o'er and o'er!
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more!

O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to trust His cleansing blood;
Just in simple faith to plunge me
'Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Yes, 'tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest and joy and peace.

I'm so glad I learned to trust Thee,
Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;
And I know that Thou art with me,
Wilt be with me to the end."

Louisa M.R. Stead left England to come to America in 1871 following a call to missionary work. She was married in 1875 and had a little girl. When the child was four years old, the family went to Long Island Sound, N.Y. for a day at the beach.

As they were sitting on the beach enjoying their picnic lunch, they heard cries for help. A boy was drowning in the sea. Mr. Stead ran to the boy's rescue and, tragically, was himself drowned while trying to save the boy. His grief-stricken wife and daughter watched helplessly from the shore.

Struggling to come to terms with her loss and with her faith in God, Louisa wrote this touching hymn.

Blessings,
Linda

Then and Now

Then:
no thought of numbered days
they stretched in endless line
no thought of fragile frame
or swiftly passing time
no need to count the moments
a limitless supply
enough to deepen faith
to hold a loved one tight

Now:
each day a treasured gift
the end of them in sight
the body growing weary
more thoughts of coming night
familiar faces dearer
no rush to hurry by
faith running deeper, surer
in Him who holds our time

"I will be your God throughout your lifetime - until your hair is white with age.
I made you, and I will care for you.
I will carry you along and save you."
Isaiah 46:4

Blessings,
Linda

Around the Network at The High Calling

Today one of my posts appears at The High Calling website. I am so humbled and grateful to have been included with such amazing writers.

If you have never visited the High Calling, you will be delightfully surprised at all you will find there. It is a place of shared community, a place filled with faith, encouragement and warm sharing. It has been a daily blessing to me.

I am so thankful to David Rupert for his kindness.

Blessings,
Linda

Be A Doer

It is time to take down the Christmas decorations. Every year, in an effort to hold Christmas close a little longer, I put it off as long as possible. I am reluctant to silence the music, shelve the stories, turn off the lights. I love the anticipation - the waiting for the precious promise to be fulfilled. But I begin to wonder if it is something else that keeps me standing firmly planted in that comfortable, familiar place.

If I am honest, it is the way I live much of my life. This verse from James comes to mind:

"Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says."
James 1:22

I love to read about faith - good books, blogs, Bible Studies, stories. I am captivated by good teaching and like nothing better than having discussions on matters of faith. It is the living it that is the difficult part.

The best of intentions crumble under life's pressures. It is so much easier to read about other peoples' successes, to look at someone else's life and aspire to be just like them - all the while standing firmly planted in the comfortable familiar place.

It is time to put the Christmas decorations away - to take the Babe out of the manger and follow after Him. He didn't stay in the comfortable place. He lived out the call of the Father on His life. It was a call filled with more pressure than anyone has ever had to bear. He did it for the joy set before Him. He did it for us.

Blessings,
Linda

I am linking to Emily's imperfect prose.

Looking Back With Thanks

As my children have grown and left home, I have packed up their books for them to take with them. There are a few, though, that I could hardly bear to part with. So I bought copies for myself. One of them is this little gem written by Jane Werner Watson and illustrated by my favorite children's illustrator Eloise Wilkin. Her pictures fill me with such warmth. They are home and family and love all crafted in such beautiful detail.

This wee book says much of what I am thankful for. Here is just a sampling:

"God gives us everything we need - shelter from cold and wind and rain, clothes to wear and food to eat.
God gives us flowers, the songs of birds, the laughter of brooks, the deep song of the sea.
He gives us a small, still voice in our hearts to help us tell wrong from right.
God gives us hopes and wishes and dreams, plans for our grown-up years ahead.
He gives us memories of yesterdays, so that happy times and people we love we can keep with us always in our hearts.
For GOD IS LOVE."

That sums it up very nicely for me today. As I begin a new year, a backward glance assures me that He is all that I need. He is my Sufficiency, my Provider, my Healer, my Redeemer, my Restorer, my Help, my Shelter, my Comfort, my Peace, my Hope, my life.
And I am filled with gratitude.

Joining the Gratitude Community at Ann's today.

Blessings,
Linda

My Word for 2011

My word for 2010 was "new." I am ashamed to say that after the first few weeks it sort of faded from my consciousness. I even had trouble remembering what it was when I began to think about my word for 2011. However, I have a Father who is faithful even when I am not, and looking back I can see the places in my life where He was doing something new.

He began to speak a new word into my heart several months ago. I had a bit of difficulty hearing it above all the noise. In fact, I was having difficulty just concentrating - finding I couldn't capture and retain the important things because they were getting lost in the clamor.

One afternoon, I was trying desperately to remember the wonderful idea for a blog post the Father had put on my heart while I was out walking. It was there somewhere, but it kept flitting around just beyond my reach. Frustrated, I reached out and turned off the radio. In the silence the thought returned - clear and complete. It was a wake-up call.

This word suddenly began to show up in blog posts - standing out in big bold letters to eyes that were finally beginning to see.

Then in an off-hand comment by my grandson - I found that this simple word had a dual meaning for me.

My word for this year is "Quiet."

Prayer and the Word are staples of a spiritual diet but so too is simply being quiet before the Lord. There is so much noise all around me that it becomes almost impossible to hear that still, small voice. I must be deliberate about turning off the noise. That gentle whisper comes at the most unexpected times - standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes, making the beds, folding the laundry, simply sitting quietly. I don't want to miss it.

The other side of quiet is getting control of my tongue. I am astonished, when I take a moment to notice, how often I interrupt and talk over other people - people who are precious to me. I often squirm when I mull over conversations I've had and realize I've said way too much or precisely the wrong thing. I seem to think that it is some sort of social "crime" when conversation stalls and rush to fill the gap with words. I end up feeling exhausted - because for an introvert it is all such a struggle.

I am giving it all to the Father, and I am going to rest in the stillness as much as I am able. I am asking for grace to listen - truly listen - and to talk wisely.

My verse is Psalm 62:5
"Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him."

My scripture passage is I Kings 19: 11-12
"Go out and stand before me on the mountain,' the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earth quake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper."


Do you have a new word for this year? I'd love to hear about it.

Blessings,
Linda