Clues of Christmas Past

The holidays are over. The tree has been taken down, its pine needles devoured by your vacuum and discarded like an old used rag down at the curb to be snatched up by men who wear big fat gloves. Or maybe you allow your dead tree to be a place of refuge for the birds and backyard critters for the remainder of this winter, tucked away in the far, hard to see corner of your fence. Or maybe your tree is artificial, and its decoration is now a somber plastic bag, tightly tucked away in a dark, web-laced corner of your basement or garage. Boxes of decorations, gingerly wrapped and packed, properly marked, have been safely put away to hibernate another year.

The gifts so carefully chosen by loved ones have been taken back, worn, spent, or put away for future use. The empty boxes that enthralled the children for days after Christmas have been replaced by the new toys they received. Children are relearning your household rules after a few precious days of blissful indulgences with Grandparents. Thank you notes have been written, signed, sealed and swallowed up by the post box. We wish we could bottle and cap the sweet memories to savor them again in mid-July.

Grandma’s over sized roasting pan has been scrubbed and put under the bed anticipating the size of that next large bird to be sacrificed. All of your regal china and silver have been replaced by your common, but hearty stoneware and flatware. You have cleaned the refrigerator of all the stuff that turned black and anything that is green and hairy, along with the unrecognizable liquids pooling in the vegetable bin.

Dial soap is put to use for soaping the zipper of your now too-tight jeans, while you lay prostrate on the bed, hoping to be able to stand up, breath and walk properly once this secret deed is done. You remove the old, but faithful bathroom scale from its holiday hiding place, blow the dust off and take it back to its proper post, to remind you daily of all those delectable, holiday nibbles. You have cleaned the house and swear you will never again buy spray snow for your windows, no matter how charmingly Hallmark-y you think it will look.

The rushing, frenzied pace of the last few months are over. Vacations are over. Visits made bittersweet with last goodbyes, were sealed with hugs and kisses. It is back to everyday business, as usual. You look all around you, and perhaps there are no apparent signs or clues of Christmas past.

And you wonder...What have I gained or gleaned or grasped from these past few months?

My prayer is that you will bring into this New Year, a deeper, sweeter awareness and knowledge of whom Jesus Christ is, and a more intimate, daily relationship with Him. Take away all the decorations, the gifts, the food, the dinnerware, the visits, and the busyness. Take away all that the world tells you are necessary for a great Christmas and be reminded of the place of a lowly manger and follow the life of Christ to His bare, blood stained cross of love and redemption, and a grave that could not hold the resurrected Christ. Just for you, just for me. Take these precious gifts, His birth, His death and His resurrection; His gifts to us, and allow them to have a prominent place in your minds, hearts and homes. Display them with all glory and honor given to Him, in all that you think, speak, do and plan. Taste them and see that they are good. Savor and enjoy them. Take delight in Him because He delights in you.

Happy New Year



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Delete, Pitch or Shred

Yep, it is clean and clear time. This time of the year always makes me want to clean and clear. Oh, not the cleaning we do daily or weekly, but clearing my cluttered desk and office and going through files in drawers as well as stored on my PC.

Some files I delete, pitch or shred immediately because I know I will never need that information or those documents again. I find some that I just cannot part with…maybe I will need that again…perhaps I will do that craft, that recipe, that trip again. My loving hubby always says “Yea, right”.

There’s that big bulky file filled with manuals and instruction booklets of appliances, furnaces, washer and dryers as well as all those warranty papers and forms that promise a “life time” guarantee (ummm, didn’t I see “going out of business” signs all over that one retail store?). I promise myself every year I will go through it…I’m sure there are papers from mixers, coffee makers, and compact CD players that were thrown to the curb years ago…instead the file just gets fatter and fatter every year. You never know, someday it will be like strolling down memory lane…”Can you believe coffee makers only cost $14.99 in 1990..and remember, that was the best coffee maker we ever had...they sure don’t make em like that anymore!”

Many are filled with stories, articles, and past bible studies that I filed away thinking I would use some enlightening information…a word, a sentence, a thought that really meant something to me at the time, and now I read it and wonder why I saved some of them….I can’t remember my thought process at the time. Some are still very useful and relevant. Hummmmm...I have some new (from old sources) ideas to think about, write and share.

Then there are the hard copies and PC files of my “jots and dots”…the many things I have written over the years. Articles, seminars, retreats, poems, stories, devotionals, bible studies, teaching notes, letters, prayers and thoughts from the middle of the night. Entire three and four part retreat messages as well as some awful attempts of poetry. Unfinished stories that I started to write, but was interrupted or it was just too difficult to write at the time (it is hard to write or type with tears plopping on the keyboard or smearing the ink on paper.)

Each year I tell myself I will organize my “jots and dots”, but I have to confess I love writing them more than organizing them. I pray that when I am gone, my children and grandchildren will read them and see a Mom and Gamma they did not see or know while we all lived such busy lives.

I just found one that I had forgotten. Crystal’s Life Mapping from a home group project done in November of 1995. My life posts with events and dates, highs, lows and hero’s of each decade from 1953 to 1995. I took the time to read it through and found it very interesting. Funny…what seemed so significant while writing the memories at the time…seem immature and trivial to me now. However, much was good to read and remember.

I am thinking I want to bring it current…for the last 14 years have been such a time of growth in the Lord for me. Because of Him, I see things so differently now…I love, trust, adore and obey Him more. I love and trust others more. My tongue used less these days….but when in use it is more for edifying, uplifting and encouraging others. Self and pride still trips me from time to time, but not as before. I have that peace that surpasses all understanding that totally eluded me in 1995. My prayer life not filled with as many “flare prayers” anymore…but more of praise, thanksgiving, contentment, and blessings. At a deeper level, I know His will is always for my best and the best of all whom I love….and I trust that…Oh, I trust Him so much more now.

You see, Christ has done some cleaning and clearing of my heart….using His Word and the Holy Spirit to perform a spiritual delete, pitch or shred of wrong thinking, sinful behavior, negative (and harmful) associations, caustic tongue, selfishness, presumed entitlements, pride, false guilt and regret, and unrealistic expectations.

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. 2Ti 3:16, 17

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Psa 51:10

His mercy and grace is so great that He does not wait a year…it is an everyday happening…not always pleasant or welcomed (let’s be honest here) but I’ve learned sooooooo necessary to keep me from getting bulky with anything unwholesome or perilous to my relationship with Christ and others.

My life posts of the last 14 years will have memories filled with joy, delight, laughter, friendship, blessings, and great spiritual growth. But they will have times of trail, tribulation, sadness disappointment and discouragement as well….but I will write them with a heart, mind and soul that knows and loves the risen Christ more intimately, more deeply and with more understanding and acceptance of His place and will in my life.

They will be more of His thoughts and words and less of my own…and that is always a good thing.

Hummmmmmmmmmm….let’s see…what was happening in 1996…..


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Are We Like Sticky Buns?

I was putting away all my many worn, torn, stained and hard to read recipes used for Thanksgiving and Christmas and realized I never made my Sticky Buns.

It is not as if they were missed with all of the other baking and cooking I did…but I missed making them and smelling the savory fragrance of cinnamon and brown sugar. I missed sharing them, because most people love them with a hot cup of coffee or a big cold glass of milk on a cold winter morning.

I can see my family and friends taking that fist bite of warm, gooey, sticky cinnamon delight and then licking their fingers of all the sweet goodness. Eat a few of these and you walk away filled and satisfied with the lingering smell of cinnamon on your fingers and soul. There are eaten quickly as people come back for more and more and more.

As I was shaking my head thinking I will not forget them for the holidays of 2010…I was stuck on the word sticky and how we can pull a lesson from my Sticky Buns in every day life….

First the recipe…

Sticky Buns

36 count-frozen rolls (do not thaw)
1 stick melted butter
1 large package vanilla pudding (NOT instant)
1 T milk
2 t cinnamon
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans

Grease a 9 x 13 pan. Sprinkle nuts in pan. Fill pan with a single layer of the frozen bread rolls. Heat other ingredients in a saucepan on the stove. Pour sauce over the dough. Let rise in fridge overnight. (Cover loosely)
In the morning let sit on counter for a half hour or so. Then bake at 350 for 30 minutes uncovered. Do not over bake. Invert immediately. ENJOY!!



When praying, what sticks in your heart and mind that you need to talk over with the Lord? What praise and thanksgiving is sticking on your heart today?

Share something sweet about your husband, children, neighbor or co-worker that sticks in your mind ….share it with them in a letter, a short note slipped in their pocket or purse, an e-mail, a phone call or talking the next time you see them.

What nice memory sticks on your soul of a time of answered prayer, a blessing from God, a gesture of kindness or help from someone? God wants us to remember those healing times in our lives.

What words do you want to stick in the hearts and minds of those around you? Words that heal and comfort or words that hurt and destroy?

What memory sticks out of this past year….what is sticking in your mind today for 2010?
Forget unwarranted regrets and be realistic about goals. Think on those memories of joy and delight, and do not make your wish list your goals.

Here are some great goals that we will never regret:

Followers of Christ need to be like my Sticky Buns. Our walk with the Lord should be warm, fragrant, sweet, inviting, and filling. People should leave our presence filled and satisfied with the lingering scent of Christ on their hearts and soul. May they come back to us wanting more and more and more of what we have in Christ….nothing like what the world offers.

As Followers of Christ, may we all stick together and bring honor and glory to God in all that we do for the Lord, for our place of worship, for our families, for each other and in our ministries, in our homes, in our work place, and in our neighborhoods.

Hummmmmmmmmmm…I think I will make some tomorrow morning…


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A Night Not Like Any Other Night

Shepherds… hardworking, rugged men working and living with smelly, dim-witted sheep day and night. Living in the elements of life in all kinds of weather with the threat of marauders, thieves, coyotes and loneliness.

Faces like leather, splashed with lines of life, worry, time and sun. Hands are large, veined and calloused thick. They are the misfits of society, doing a worthy job of watching and caring for the sheep…but it is dirty job that many did not want to do or esteem.

They wake up this morning unaware that their lives will be changed tonight. They start with morning meditation and prayer and then gather the sheep, goad them to a greener pasture to feed and fresh clear water not far away. The sit and eat their meals of dry bread and fish, perhaps some figs, and olives.

They talk of the ordinary, mundane things of life. They talk of the weather, or a lazy brother or interfering mother in law. Aching backs, feet, hands, and a family that seemingly have forgotten them as they have been away from home for many weeks. Speaking of troubled times and wondering what lies ahead for them. They might talk of the coming Messiah promised in the oral traditions they have heard since they were small children. When will He come to save them from this hard life and oppression of Roman rule?

The day passes and the setting sun reminds them to gather the sheep for the long nights rest. They have been very busy…the sheep a little more skittish and excited today, a little harder to handle. They settle the stubborn, bleating sheep, and sit to rest themselves. They are tired, worn, and ready to drop into an exhausted sleep on the cool desert sand.

Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about." So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.


The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. (Luke 2)

These smelly, tired shepherds were the ones God choose to announce the coming of the greatest event of all times. The birth of Jesus. Think of the fear, the trembling, the excitement, and the anticipation as they ran a long way to find this baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.

Imagine as they ran… the yelling, the talking, and the sharing “Did you see that?” “Did you hear that voice?” "I was so frightened." “Did you hear everything he said?” “A Savior is born!” “A Savior is born to us, for us?” “Where we not taking of this this very morning?” “Did you see the sky split open with millions of angels...can you believe the sound of their singing…like nothing we have ever heard!” "The light so bright I had to cover my eyes." “Do you think anyone else saw it….it was as though they were talking just to us…just to us…JUST TO US!!”

These shepherds, these misfits, these dirty, smelly rugged desert men were the first to see, to hear, to believe, to run, to worship, to quickly go tell others the great news…and to go back with renewed strength and spirit to praise and worship their new Savior.

Their lives would never be the same…for it was a night not like any other night. This holy night changed them forever.

28 years ago, I was a misfit, my thoughts and deeds dirty and smelly…my life made rugged with worldly influences. Stubborn and bleating through daily living. My spirit weary and tired of trying to plow my own pastures of tainted goodness and finding my water contaminated by my selfish tears and spittle of words flung out of my mouth without a thought. Living in a dry barren desert of my own doing, not realizing I was dying in a spiritual drought.

Then someone ran to me and told me the same words the shepherds heard that night so long ago….what I heard was “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people” …all the people….all the people…my friend said “Crystal, for you…just for you…JUST FOR YOU!”

That was a night like no other night for me….along side my dear husband we fell to our knees and prayed…because we saw, we heard, and we believed…then we ran, we worshiped and went quickly to tell others.

Christmas reminds me again and again of how God sent His Son to save a misfit like me…On that night not like any other night Christ stepped down from heaven into a stable to touch my soul, all souls with the cry of a hungry baby.

Merry Christmas

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Snowflakes, Puppies and a Lesson

Footprints, puffs of clouds, floating droplets of white, shivering, crunching, and two puppies romping and playing in the back yard

The yard is covered with a white blanket of snow so clean and beautiful you hate to desecrate it with footprints and a ba-zillion puppy paw prints.

While I stood outside with the puppies this morning, watching my breath like little puffs of clouds, I shivered and thought “Oh no, I have too much to do today to be bothered with snow, ice and rain”. With the final shopping list as long as my arm, and favorite family recipes peeking from the pockets of my purse, I was ready to fly out the door and turn this one day into two!!!!!

Three more small gifts, food to buy, and tape for wrapping (cannot forget the tape). Goodies to make, last minute cards to sign and it’s a wrap for Christmas 2009.

I was thinking the puppies were taking too long. “Come on, come on guys don’t you know I have a busy day and besides, it’s cold out here and I am getting wet”…whine, whine, whine….then I stopped thinking “busy” and watched them play, romp, sniff, lick, and roll in the “new stuff on the ground”. They love the snow and the time to play in it.

I looked up at the snow mingled with rain….half snow, half rain…but caught sight of one full snowflake. Like our fingerprints, there are no two alike. Like exquisite lattice or lacework as only God can produce, I watch it fall to the ground to join all the others.

A flood of memories of times played in the snow as a child and with my own children came to mind. Of a late nigh walk on OSU’s campus with my new boyfriend Dennis. Of looking for the lost ring of my three-year-old daughter dropped in the deep snow in Granddad’s back yard. Sledding with son and his friends praying I would not break my neck. Long walks with husband Dennis through hushed parks. Remembering one very early morning with snow falling while sitting on top of a slide in the park watching an entire deer family come out and stroll. Remembering so many quiet times with the Lord, all wrapped up in a blanket watching the snowfall from my front window. Remembering snow topped mountains, and the crackling, tinkling noise of frozen rivers breaking up and flowing as God intended.

A Cardinal flew by and rested every so quickly on my fence and then was gone. Brilliant red against the pure white touched my soul and delighted my eyes and heart…and then I realized…If I had rushed the puppies in the house I would have missed that moment of beauty.

I shook my head as though to empty it of the impatient “come on, come on…things to do, busy day, wrapping, cooking” thoughts and filled it with what the puppies were experiencing, Pure joy and delight...with wildness of play and happiness while discovering something so wonderful as wet white stuff for their enjoyment.


God’s beauty is all around me, every day and how much do I miss being worried and upset about many things, when there is only One thing that is needed which is far better than any list, gift, recipe, wrapping paper or preparations. Only One thing that can never be taken from me: my Lord, Savior and King, Jesus Christ and all that He has so generously provided for me to enjoy.

I stayed outside for a long time, taking in the joy of nature, the puppies, the scrambling squirrels, and gave God all the honor and glory and thanks for using footprints, puffs of clouds, floating droplets of white, shivering, crunching, and two puppies playfully romping and playing in the back yard to settle my heart and mind.

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Half Off Sweater Table

*I thought I would share an experience I had this past weekend….

I went shopping this weekend (yep, nuts!!!) and I saw very little joy or delight. I saw hurried and stressed, bothered and pushed, shoved and annoyed.

I smiled and said a gentle Merry Christmas to many; some responded…many did not. (some looked at me like I was a stalker or something…rushing to get away from me with worried downcast eyes).

I thought on the way home of when Jesus entered the temple and drove out the money changers…

Mar 11:15 On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts.

Mar 11:17 And as he taught them, he said, "Is it not written: "'My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it 'a den of robbers.'"

We have made Christmas a holiday of robbers…robbers of money, peace, joy, and time.

I so wanted to jump up on the “Half Off” sweater table and shout:

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.

I wanted to tell them about a Savior who was born, only to die for them..who does give peace, joy and a new life that is filled with the greatest gift ever, that will never rust, decay, or die. I wanted to tell them the joy of knowing the One that brings light to the eyes, peace to the heart, wisdom to the mind and contentment to the soul. I wanted to tell them…that they have been robbed, scammed, taken, used, abused and lied to about the real reason for this celebration.

Wise men and women still seek Him...and when they do, with a sincere heart, He is always found with open arms and willing to save and give us the greatest gift ever…Himself.

Buying gifts is not bad. Gifts were given to the One I speak of from Wise men…Gifts should be lovingly chosen, wisely bought, gingerly wrapped, and given with expectant anticipation…it is a joy to see surprise and delight in the eyes and smile of those we give.

May we, who know Him so intimately always remember HE is the greatest Gift and gather as many around Him as we can this Christmas and all of 2010.


*(I originally wrote this December 23, 2008 to a friend expressing what I saw at a Mall here in Columbus…but I had been shopping again in December 2009 and "there is nothing new under the sun.")

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A Treasured Birth

I am Mary and I am a very young woman, betrothed to a righteous man named Joseph. At this time I am very heavy with child, my days almost complete to give birth. We are traveling, Joseph and I, to Judea, to the city of David, named Bethlehem.

It is far from our home, Nazareth*, and I am riding bareback on an old, gray burro. Joseph is walking along side me. The air is thick, the road is dusty, and I am very tired. Joseph is so kind, I know he is tired, his cloak must be heavy on his broad shoulders as the miles and days go by, but he is insistent that I remain on the sturdy back of our ancient but faithful burro.

There are many strange people and families along with their animals, and possessions all around us. There is very little water, very little privacy, very little time to stop and rest. We are almost to Judea where we will register for the ordered census, ordered by Caesar Augustus and required of all inhabited earth, which includes Joseph and I.

Such an inconvenient time to be traveling, and very uncomfortable in my condition. I do not complain of the short, sharp pains I have been experiencing because I do not want to worry Joseph needlessly. I do not want to be so far from my home, being so close to the time of the birth of my first baby. It is just Joseph, I, and a few of our animals. Much of my family and my families trusted midwives could not come with me…I knew that if I gave birth, I would have only Joseph and myself.

For you see, this baby is not just special because it will be my first, but it is a baby miraculously conceived in my womb by the Holy Spirit of God. An angel told me that though I was a virgin, never been with a man in any way, the Holy Spirit would come upon me, and the power of the Most High would overshadow me and I would have a holy offspring and He would be called the Son of God. This is an earnest desire and dream of every young Hebrew woman. To be chosen by God to carry the Messiah.
The Messiah, the King who would come to save the Jews, my people from bondage, oppression and sin. I am just a lowly, humble, young Hebrew woman, a bond slave from a poor family, and equally improvised town. Why would God have any regard for me? What awe I felt! My soul exalted the Lord, my spirit rejoiced in God my Savior and I believed, trusted, and humbly accepted this pregnancy, which I knew many would not understand, or welcome. Now, I am on the road to Judea knowing that any moment I could be giving birth to a baby who would be called Jesus, the One who will save His people from their sins.

Joseph also knows of this miracle from a visitation of an angel from God, that appeared one night in a dream, and he is also willing to believe and trust our God. Joseph is indeed a kind and righteous man. I am honored to be his wife.


We have arrived. There are people everywhere. It is late, we are both very tired, and I have noticed the pains coming closer and sharper. The crowded streets, all lined with sleeping families with babies, children and animals. We must be careful not to step on any of them. Joseph is determined to find a comfortable place for me to rest. He inquires at all the inns and homes. They are all full, no vacancies. Joseph pleads, “Please, my wife is heavy with child and so tired. She would like a bed just to rest for a while.” The many slammed doors silence his pleas. One innkeeper takes pity on us and offers us a corner of his stable. It would just be Joseph, I, and the innkeeper’s animals. There would be some privacy and time to rest. We are very thankful.

The stable is warm from the body heat of the animals and the insulation of the hay. Many pungent odors fill our nostrils and the hay pricks and tickles our feet. There is just a faint light from the full moon and stars overhead and as we lay exhausted, we are lulled to sleep by the night sounds of a full stable.

The rest is very short, however as I am awakened by a very sharp pain. It is not like anything I have ever felt before. I am frightened and I cry out to Joseph. Instantly awake, he comes to my side. I am worried and tell Joseph that I wonder how we are going to deliver this baby without a midwife, here is this stable, at night, in a strange city. No water, except that which is for the animals to drink. No fresh water, salt, or oil to rub all over the baby’s body. No clean rags to wrap him tightly for seven days. No bed to lay him down, just a dirt floor and an empty manger. Joseph reassures me that with God nothing is impossible and we are to trust Him with the delivery of His Son. I love Joseph and my God and I will trust and not be afraid.

The pains are now almost nonstop and hard. The urge to push is so strong. Joseph tells me to push, push harder. I can hear Joseph telling me that he can see the top of my baby’s head and just one stronger, long push. I feel a strange release, and I hear a baby cry. I strain to see and hear whose baby is crying and I see Joseph holding MY baby. It is my baby, Jesus, who is crying. Joseph is smiling and hands me the tiny, warm, breathing body that just came forth from my own body, born on the dirt floor of a stable.

I am awestruck! I wrap Him in the only swaddling cloths I have, and I bring Him close to my exposed breast and He eagerly accepts my nourishment. I am holding the baby conceived by the Holy Spirit. I am nourishing at my breast the Son of God. His tiny hand is holding so tightly onto my finger and I look down at His face, such a sweet face. I know that He is the Son of God, but I also know He is partly mine and Joseph to raise as God would want Him to be raised. I stare in wonder. Joseph and I are strangely quiet as I lay Jesus in the empty manger to sleep.


I am no longer tired. I am exhilarated with joy and love. Joseph is standing looking out when suddenly it seems brighter in the stable. The sky is much brighter but it is not morning. As we wonder about the light, the animals begin to stir, they seem eager and excited about something while Jesus just sleeps, so peacefully.

Suddenly some shepherds from this same region appear and bow down, and told Joseph and I about an angel of the Lord, who stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone all around them, and they were terribly frightened. But the angel reassured them and told them the good news of a Savior being born, this very day, who is Christ the Lord. The angel told the shepherds where to go to find this Savior and that He would be wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. The shepherds then told us how the entire sky lit up with a multitude of angels praising God and saying “Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.” The shepherds told many as they ran towards the stable and many listened and wondered at all that the shepherds were telling them.

Although there are many all around, I sit quietly, almost as if by myself, looking at and touching this life that just a few hours before was a part of me. Now, I look at His face and kiss His brow and I am pondering all the words of the shepherds in my heart. As I lift Him close to my breast, I know I will treasure all these things, these happenings, these very moments for the rest of my life. I look up and see Joseph looking at me, smiling and I know he too, feels the same wonder and awe. We share a secret that no other couples share. We know we will both treasure each moment of this precious life of our son and our Savior, Jesus, who is Christ the Lord. He has come to save all men from their sins, from themselves.

Do you personally know the Man this baby grew up to be? Do you treasure your relationship that you have with Him? Do you feel the wonder and awe of it all? The One who threw the stars in the sky and named each one, is the One who designed and knew you before you were born….was born a baby, feeding at a young woman’s breast, holding tightly to her finger…so He could be the physical representation of God to live among those He came to save.

I stand amazed, truly amazed.


*about 90 miles

(original written November 1996)

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Be Still And Know That I Am God

While traveling for business over the last two years, my eyes opened to a whole new adventure of people, things and events. The speed and ease of such traveling amazes me. The immense and intricate systems, from one airport to another, are overwhelming: planes, trains, buses, shuttles, rental cars, terminals, hubs, baggage claims, parking (both short term and long-term), and several hotels.

At the Dallas-Ft. Worth airport, it is five miles from the entrance of the airport to the rental care hub. Five miles! After you drop off your rental car, you get on a bus and go another five miles to your terminal. Ten miles from entrance to terminal!

It takes the better part of 45 minutes to go completely around the inside of the DFW airport, passing four huge terminals, and if you miss your terminal exit, you have to go all the way around again. It is a city within a city where everything moves fast.

The Dallas-Fort Worth Airport is something right out of the Jetson’s. My elderly mother, who has been mostly house bound for the better part of 25 years, would be knocked off her feet as she took in the changes over the last quarter century. Remember when we use to walk outside to get to our airplane? (okay, some of you won’t remember!!!)

Wow...and that is outside the terminals. Inside, it’s a colossal colleague of shops, restaurants, security checkpoints, and giant golf cart-like cars that take you from one gate to another with flashing lights as well as an annoying beep, beep beeps if you get in the way.

People...a myriad of people of numerous shapes, sizes, colors, ages and nationalities. Many are employed at the airport as well as the thousands who are travel-bound. Those traveling are a mixed bag of assorted vigor and attitudes. Some are excited, others are weary. Some are bored and some are angry. Some are lost and some miss their flight. Some are early; some are late and rush by trying to find someone to point them in the right direction. Some are traveling alone and some with entire families complete with frazzled parents, crying babies, bored teens and shuffling grandparents.

One thing I noticed (while waiting through delay after delay), not many read books. Well, at least the ones that you hold in your hand turn pages and fold down the corner when you stop to hold your place. The I-pods, laptop computers, blackberries, and cell phones help keep people in a frenzied type of existence. They are talking, typing, texting and tapping their feet to the music. Back in the day when you saw someone walking and talking with out some visual sign of a communication device, you thought they were loony and talking to themselves. Not anymore. Just look for that flashing bug like thing sticking out of their ear. People do everything fast and if you are walking slowly, you better watch out!!

People cannot sit still. I had to wait for several hours on my last return trip and I sat in the same seat, reading a paperback book and watching. Several people would settle themselves in a seat, with a drink and maybe some snack, pull out their I-pod or computer, and settle down. It would last all of ten minutes. They would put it all away, get up and walk around, find another seat and start the process again all over again. They would do this ritual several times…all the while talking on their cell phones, or at least opening it to check for the next important text or message.

As I was slowly shaking my head and tsk, tsk, tsking at their obvious inability to make a commitment to one spot…The Spirit of the Lord nudged my soul and I had to think of all the times I set up my little “quiet time” area, complete with hot coffee, post-it notes, pen, highlighter, Bible, bible study and notebook. I even have tissues just in case I cry. I settle down, open the Bible, read one or two pages, answer one or two questions of the Bible study and remember I have a load of wash in the washer to put in the dryer, or I have to call the dentist to make a dental appointment, or think of a commentary I need and up I go to do or find whatever it is that distracted me. Sometimes this can happen several times during my “planned” time and then it is gone. I have to go to work, or to bed or to the next “urgent” project.

I have to wonder if God is slowly shaking His head and tsk, tsk, tsking at my obvious inability to make a commitment to my time with Him. My goal is to offer Him quality time, unfragmented by a bunch of the “urgents” or “to do’s”—not on the run, or always in the car, or at the last minute. Not at the end of the day when I have nothing left mentally or emotionally, and I fall asleep after the first “Dear Father, thank you for thi………….yawn…snort…snore.

Dear Father, forgive me that I allow the foolish things of this world to hinder me from seeking you with quality time, alertness and excited anticipation. Father, slow me down. Help me simplify. Help me rid myself of the tyranny of the urgent that creeps in early in the morning and drains me by day’s end. There will always be deadlines and appointments that are job and life related. I grow weary of the demands that pull me from You and the work You have given me to do. May I have the courage to say no. It is better to say no lovingly than to do begrudgingly. May I pay attention to that nudging of the Holy Spirit that tells me to get up a little earlier, or study at lunch, or quit watching TV…all those things, Dear Father, and more. Help me always to understand that the nudging of the Holy Spirit is your voice…Your nudging…Your wanting to sit with me and spend some time with me. I never have to worry about You being distracted and moving from seat to seat. Father, help me see what is needed, what is necessary and help me:

"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." Psa 46:10

Thank you Father for Your love, wisdom and devotion to me even when I can’t sit still. May I slow down and look to You…always. In the name of Jesus, Amen

(May be subject to copyright)

God With Us

This past weekend our church presented our 3rd annual Journey to Bethlehem. It is a guided live outdoor drama telling the story of how thousand of Jews descended upon the little town of Bethlehem during the time of the birth of Jesus. Complete with live animals (including camels), Roman soldiers on horseback, a market place, shepherds, Gabriel, the Magi, the tax collector and of course Joseph, Mary and the Baby Jesus.

When we entered the house of the innkeeper telling him what we had heard on our “journey” about a baby, the Messiah being born in Bethlehem, the guide asked him...”do you know of this?” He answered, “I only know if a women soon to give birth resting in my stable behind the house.”

When it was explained to the innkeeper and his family that it was the Messiah, the long awaited Messiah…his sister, standing quietly in the corner started singing O come, O come, Emmanuel. As I listened to that sweet, soft voice in the cold night, I was so moved as I pictured myself among those people waiting for their Deliverer and hearing such good news among the oppression of Roman rule, excessive taxation, seedy merchants and poverty.

The people in Bethlehem that night were anxiously waiting for such good news and yet many still missed the greatest mystery revealed…That God is with us, in the simple, ordinary birth of a baby. The mystery of the Son who stepped from the royal threshold of Heaven to the dirt floor of a stable to redeem and save.


While outside this morning with my puppies….in the quiet, cold and dark…I looked up and saw the moon peeking through the barren branches and I started to sing

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

With heartfelt tears, I was reminded again that Jesus ransomed my captive heart 28 years ago. With a heart overflowing with thanksgiving, I could not complete the song but lifted my hands to God and whispered praises as I worshiped Him alone in the stillness of an early Monday morning with puppies running all around my feet.

(Story may be subject to copyright)

So Incredibly Thankful # 2

Someone asked why I wrote the
So Incredibly Thankful and sent it out to loved ones and friends.

I wrote it because I was preparing the turkey and was thinking of the things I was most thankful for…and thinking of how different our holiday meals are now that the grandparents are gone (or cannot join in) and the kids are adults with spouses and kids and homes and idea’s of their own. To be truthful, it is not the same as when I was growing up or when my children were little. Which is not a bad thing…we are much more relaxed and less stressed because of the simplicity of it all now. It really does not matter to me when I see them as long as I see them and share in a good meal and times. I remember so clearly traveling to two or three different places in one day with two little kids…I swore I would never do that to my children, so we meet on their terms and turf.

I wrote it because I wanted God to know that I was taking the time to “think on these things” and to let Him know I was thankful and so appreciative of what He has done, what He is doing and what He is going to do in my life and the lives of all who I love.

I wrote it because I was thinking of how far from God we are sometimes in our “Martha” preparations from October to January. How stressed, tired, over wroth with overspending just to make it all as the world says it should be. Although Thanksgiving is not a “spiritual” holiday…for me it marks the beginning of all that is kind, good and pointing to the Life that gave us life. We need to take the simplicity of the time, birth, place, circumstances and people of the Nativity and let it all sink in. Poor (not wealthy) nobody parents, far from home, in a little town, in a barn, with the warmth and smell of farm animals, and a bunch of misfit shepherds barging in and worshiping is where we welcomed the greatest Gift (and time) of all time. No family, no gifts or wrappings, no meals, no decorations, no fanfare or royal announcement, no eloquence at all…just a baby born to a young virgin whose husband loved and obeyed the Word of God. What can I learn from the times of the birth of my Savior…how can I apply that to my life now…these are some the questions I ask myself.

I wrote it somewhat like a prayer, like talking to God while typing away…and also I wanted those I love to know how much I love them and appreciate them, including my spiritual family who are like rivers of fresh, clean water to me….

(may be copyright protected)

So Incredibly Thankful

Today is Thanksgiving 2009. A time set aside to give thanks and share our abundance with family and friends.

In many kitchens, as the sun rose this beautiful morning, turkeys were washed, rubbed with butter, filled with dressing, nestled in a big pan and lovingly placed in a hot oven. The snap of fresh green beans is mingled with the talking, sharing and laughter of those busy in the kitchen. The many pealed potatoes boiling in savory salt water, waiting to become creamy mashed potatoes, all ready for hot flowing gravy. Relish trays, pats of butter, home made rolls, old family recipe of cranberry relish all prepared as old traditions dictate. Pumpkin pies, the color so like autumn with fragrant nutmeg, cinnamon, and golden buttery crusts cooling on the kitchen counter tops.

Some tables are set with Grandma’s fine china and silver. Sparkling stem wine goblets ready for aged wine. Home made place cards with pressed autumn leaves adorn each carefully placed seat. While other tables, less formal, welcome anyone to sit anywhere with a hodgepodge of plates, mismatched silverware and canning jars for glasses. Makes no difference, we all gather for the same reason….to give thanks and share our abundance with family and friends.

As I sit, while my turkey is in the oven and my traditional broth for my baked dressing is cooling, I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving for all that I have. A loving husband, funny and wonderful children who have great spouses that I love. Grandchildren who are true gifts from God. Two puppies (now curled at my feet), a comfortable home, a good job that I enjoy, automobile, good books to read, and a working PC that lets me chronicle my thoughts faster than I could write them.

This Thanksgiving I am so thankful for many answered prayers this year. A week ago, we were fearful of losing my older sister Sharon…today she is sitting up and almost ready to go home. I am thankful for sisters and good friends that were deeply involved in all of the needs over the last week. I am thankful my Mom is well cared for and Dad Giffin’s wife Cheri is surrounded by her loving family since Dad will not be with us this year. I am thankful for my many dear sisters and brother in Christ that I love and they love me. What a deep well of encouragement and comfort they are.

I could go on and on…for my soul is so blessed….If I had none of the above my thanksgiving and blessings would still be overflowing. I have a Savior named Jesus who saved me and redeemed me…. who was born of a virgin, was God in the flesh, lived as a man, but without sin...died on the cross, was buried and rose from the grave, as witnessed by many, ascended to heaven to the right hand of the Father and prays for me, comforts me, enlightens me, guides me, and will come back for me to join Him and our Father for eternity. This I know for the Word of God tells me so.

Yes, I am thankful…so thankful…so incredibly thankful.

(May be copyright protected)

A Harp, Arthritic Hands and Comfort

While my sister is in the hospital, seriously ill, I take walks just to exercise my legs and get the numbness out of my behind (those hospital chairs are hard after the first hour of sitting). I make my way to the chapel to pray, the gift shop to look, or to the cafeteria to find something that looks appetizing to eat.

I see people...so many people coming and going…the revolving doors spinning and swooshing with entering and exiting people of all sort, color, size and demeanor. I watch and see that some are walking quickly, and some very slow as though they dread taking the next step. Some look so weary, and others stressed and anxious. Some are happy and laughing, while others seem lost, forlorn. Many are alone, while others are with entire families all pressed together as though competing for the same space.

As I look around there are people crying and talking quietly with family trying to pull comfort and assurance from each other. Some are excited that a recovered loved one or a precious new baby are going home….hands filled with flowers, balloons, and stuffed teddy bears.


The physicians often walking together, heads lowered, whispering, like white cloaked nuns...while trying to gather much wisdom, knowledge and understanding from each other.

Nurses…never sitting still, moving quickly, bird like from room to room. Transporters navigating the large gurneys with machines and hoses attached to the one lying so still, wrapped tightly in blankets like a large white cocoon. Cleaning people pushing what looks like a large animal with circular paws and plastic bags for arms with a multicolored feather duster for its tail.

Lights, noise, disembodied voices calling someone or for something, background noise of talking, moving machinery, shuffling feet, cell phones, and the robotic voices at automatic doors and the elevators…..never ending sounds of life being cared for.

Hard to rest, hard to think, hard to pray. When we received the worst news of my sister’s condition, I was able to leave to walk…this time to shed some tears. I headed for the chapel but instead found a quiet corner next to the small water fountain near the main entrance.

As I was sitting there looking out the window, thinking, praying and crying….I heard the most wonderful music. Soft and melodious, something like the tinkling sounds of a waterfall...so soothing. I looked over and 20 feet away, sitting on the other side of the water fountain was an elderly man playing a portable, miniature harp.

Arthritic hands with curled fingers and brown spots contrasting with ivory transparent skin softly flowed and moved up and down the strings of the harp bringing forth such sweet sounds. His face was so serene; you could tell he loved being part of music so lovely, so quiet, and so soothing to the soul. He volunteers…no pay, no reason to be there…other than to serve and to touch hearts that need something beautiful, something quiet, something soft and calming that will make them sit a rest awhile.

With tears running down my face, I thanked God for this moment of quiet…not alone, but yet alone in my corner, with the water fountain and a gentle man using his gifts and talents for nothing but to being joy and delight to others who may be needing this small window of escape from the harsh realities of their lives.

I looked over and saw a few others taking in what I was taking in...one bearded, very burly type man moved away from his talking family to sit alone, close his eyes and listen.

God never ceases to amaze, comfort and delight me. He knows what I need…long before I know…if I ever know. This was only a short 30 minutes in the lobby of a busy large hospital…and yet…God met me there….with space, quiet, and a gentle man playing wonderful soft music…whom I will probably never meet this side of heaven.

I listened until he was done…and as he packed up his beloved instrument, I went to the chapel…ready to praise the God and Father of my Savior Jesus Christ for always providing the very thing I need to gather me closer to Him.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort 2Co 1:3

(May be copyright protected)

Roses and Thorns # 2

I did visit my sister and I did take some beautiful deep red roses. I also gave her what I wrote on my Crystalized Thinking in the form of a letter. We were alone and I read it to her. We cried, we laughed, we shared and reassured each other of the blessings we have had in our lives…and we prayed.

We understand that life is precious and when confronted with the realities of losing someone dear, it is amazing how sharp & clear the sweet memories flood your mind & heart. We waste so much time worried & anxious about trivial things. Mad, annoyed, impatient, hurried and harried we rush through our days and miss the times to hug, love, laugh, pray, and see the joys and blessings of God and those around us that we love.

Yesterday morning I arrived at the hospital at 6:00AM. It was still dark…and she was still sleeping. I sat down in the chair next to her bed, looked out the window, and realized that she had a full view of the beautiful Christmas lights at the main entrance of the hospital. I had to smile and thank God for this truly precious blessing for Sharon…she loves Christmas and everything about Christmas…for God to allow her to see Christmas lights deep into the night when she cannot sleep is such a sweet blessing.

Today we praise God she is stable…and may be going home within the next two weeks. This going home will be different, for her life will be different. Both she and her husband need care. They need to make many difficult decisions while facing some major life changes.

Sharon loves the Lord with all her heart, soul and mind. She knows He will be with her in this new journey she faces, just as He has with every journey of her life. She knows the truth and promises of God’s mighty Word and some of her favorites are:

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lam 3:21-23


He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways…
(Excerpts from Psalm 91)

Great is HIs faithfullness....

(May be copyright protected)

Roses and Thorns

Life is so thorny at times….I saw a rose bush on my neighbor’s porch, still blooming in November and marveled at the creativity of God. What an artist He is. I love roses, any color, and any size. Roses are a delight to the eyes and delicate and so sweet smelling… and yet, hidden under beautifully detailed leaves hide those thorns that can prick you…sometimes to the point of bleeding. So eager to touch and smell, you grab it too quickly and forget the hidden danger.

I know there are thorns on the stem of a rose. I could avoid the prick of a rose thorn by never extending my hand to hold one, touch its soft velvety petals, or smell the intoxicating fragrance of nature. I could enjoy its beauty from afar, always safe, never taking the risk of being pricked. But….oh what measures of joy would I relinquish by never grabbing, never smelling, never touching, never getting close and taking in the whole essence of the rose…yes, even the prick of the thorn.

I know there are thorns in life…those hidden dangers that prick my heart and soul...sometimes when I least expect it, I am pricked and bleeding.

My sister was rushed to ER yesterday. Blood clouts in both legs and one lung. Other complications because of her diabetes and other health problems. The possibility of losing her is a reality. That would be so painful for me…she is one of the best sister’s ever and has been for over 55 years. She is a dear friend and we love to joke, laugh, sing, dance, and so enjoy each other’s company (along with our other best sister).

We are also sisters in Christ and have shared so many incredible Christ experiences over the last 28 years.

We love each other deeply, passionately and unconditionally. The thorns of our lives now are: getting older, illness and the possibly of death visiting us sooner than we desire. It would be so easy not to love the way we love…sure would minimize the thorns of sorrow, pain and grief. Be safe…only “love” from afar.

Yet, I know there are thorns in life…but I am still eager to love and touch and share. So eager to grab hold and live life with those I love…I don’t forget the thorns because I know they are part of a life lived deeply, passionately, and wholeheartedly. The bleeding of a pricked heart and soul indicate life, a heart still beating with joy, comfort, peace, and the love of a Savior who wore a crown of thorns for me.

I am off to visit my sister in the hospital today…perhaps I will stop and buy her some roses.

2Co 1:3-5 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.

(May be copyright protected)

My Juniper Tree

1 Kings 19

1Ki 19:1 Now Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword.
1Ki 19:2 Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, "So may the gods do to me and even more, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time."
1Ki 19:3 And he was afraid and arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there.
1Ki 19:4 But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree; and he requested for himself that he might die, and said, "It is enough; now, O LORD, take my life, for I am not better than my fathers."
1Ki 19:5 He lay down and slept under a juniper tree; and behold, there was an angel touching him, and he said to him, "Arise, eat."
1Ki 19:6 Then he looked and behold, there was at his head a bread cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. So he ate and drank and lay down again.
1Ki 19:7 The angel of the LORD came again a second time and touched him and said, "Arise, eat, because the journey is too great for you."
1Ki 19:8 So he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mountain of God.


It was a warm, overcast day in late November. After many months of unemployment, my husband Dennis was busy with his new job and was gone many hours a day. This new job was physically challenging after many years of sitting at a desk and his pay didn’t cover the basic costs of our monthly expenses. When he was home, he was tired and not able to interact much. My daughter was gone, estranged from the family while living in NC. I was working at a before and after school day care and homeschooling my son Brad during the in between hours of 9:30 -3:30. I also worked with Brad delivering papers for three routes in the morning before leaving for work at 5:45 AM. I was trying to help my mother stay as independent as I could, with the help of my sisters with shopping, cleaning, laundry and trips to the doctor. I was also involved in some ministries at my church, teaching a small group called MOPS and had a small Bible study in my home once a week,

The pain and affected areas of my fibromyalgia was increasing. Insomnia was a unwelcomed nightly intruder and I was so tired.

This particular morning Brad and I snapped at each other while delivering papers. Dennis was upset because there were no clean socks. I talked to my daughter the night before and it did not go well. My mother was upset about something I could not do in her time frame and Brad balked at his math lessons I had planned for the day. Bob the bill collector called me reminding me of a past due payment and my house was a wreck, with dirty laundry calling from the hamper.

I was stressed, busy, tired, sore and feeling used, abused, neglected, unloved and unneeded. Thoughts of death and ending my life’s struggles were creeping into my mind and heart.

I told Brad I was going for a walk. I walked to the cemetery across the main road not far from my house. As I entered the quiet cathedral of trees sighing with their fading fall colors, I started crying and calling out to God….let me find a Juniper Tree today.

As I followed the snake shaped path that winded through the open tomb of stilled voices, I found the perfect little tree…almost like a miniature weeping willow…perhaps I would find a little rest and solace with my weeping friend of nature. With no one around but an army of ants, a few quarreling geese and the squirrels like sentries in the trees, I sat down and cried out to God.

Lamenting that all of my efforts to make life better for others was unappreciated, undermined and often unwelcomed. Asking Him why life had to be so difficult, so wearisome, and seemingly thankless. I cried just as Elijah, “Lord take my life…end this endless cycle of hardships...that I may rest. There is no one who needs me any longer, no one who wants my help or care. Who cares Lord, who cares? “

I looked up and through drowning eyes whose tears made odd shaped polka dots on my t-shirt could see an ancient boat size car rolling slowly past me.

It parked and as I watched, the man slowly emerged, sloth like, as in slow motion from the driver’s side. With labored steps and breath, he walks over to help his wife to her feet from the old worn leather seat. With winkles like cracked craters of wisdom on their faces, eyes dimmed after a thousands sunsets, and backs bowed as gently but greatly used violin bows this elderly couple walked toward the trunk.

Not a word was spoken between them. They had that silent but amazing form of talking without words that can only come from many years of life together. The look from the eye, a soft touch to the hand, a gentle nudge in a certain direction…all totally understood.

I could hear the tired moan of rusted, creaking hinges as the lid of the giant cave like truck yawned open. Together, they pulled out a plastic milk jug filled with water. It took some effort and time to get it out of that trunk. The woman started carrying it into the grass…a balancing act of water jug, a walking cane and heavy feet. Fascinated, I watch as the man, reached in, and almost falling into the truck to retrieve another water jug.

I wiped my eyes, jumped up and ran over. Standing beside this bent man, I asked “Can I please help you?? He said, “Please help my wife to our son’s grave, the grass is uneven and I am afraid she will fall.” I ran to the wife and with thankful eyes and a sweet smile, she handed me the water jug and hooked her arm in mine and she led me to her son’s grave, his name etched in bronze in a carved stone.

I looked back and the husband was struggling with a jug of water, I ran back to the car, looked inside and their were many more jugs of water, a shovel, a spade, a snipping tool, some mulch, a bottle of cleaning liquid and a large soft cloth. I told him I would walk him over to his wife and would be happy to help bring over anything they needed from the trunk.

As I gingerly walked him over, he told me they needed everything from the trunk. This was cleaning day for their son.

After my many trips back and forth, they finally had everything they needed to start the quarterly ritual they have performed every year since their only son died in Vietnam.

I said, “let me help you. Let me honor your son and his service to my county and to me. Let me help with the cleaning this time. You tell me all about him and what a wonderful son he was while I work. Tell me what needs done and I’ll do it.”

There were two small pine trees on each side of his weathered stone. They told me to start with those. They planted these their first Christmas without him, in honor of his love of Christmas. They needed a little trimming, and a loving pat of mulch around the base to keep them warm during the coming winter.

They told me of a bright, strong, healthy, humorous young man who loved McDonalds, football, card games and Christmas. He loved his county and had no second thoughts after joining the army right after high school. He loved his Mom and they planted flowers and vegetable gardens together and he would laugh every time she beat him at the many card games they played. He loved his Dad and treasured the many football games they attended together. They so enjoyed each other during the lazy afternoons fishing. They laughed much while learning to shoot a gun at empty green bean cans in the backyard.

I trimmed, I watered and worked through tears dripping from my eyes as they told me that they keep his bedroom exactly the same as it was when he left to join the army. They proudly display his pictures, medals and flag from his casket in the living room.

The last ritual, they would not let me do. Only Mom could do this job. I helped her to her knees and watched as she held the very soft cloth and gently and gingerly cleaned the polished surface of her son’s marker. Very quietly, as though no one else was with her, she hummed and sang a little song. When done she held the cloth to her breast, laid her hand with crooked fingers, and transparent skin spotted with patches of age on her son’s name…and sighed… then whispered “Merry Christmas and goodbye”…and asked me to help her up. “It is time to leave” she said.

As they joined hands and walked to the car, I ran back and forth returning the tools of love to their car. As I closed the lid, they were holding hands and looking at me…and the mother said “You were so kind and so helpful and listened to our stories…this we do for our son and it is getting harder and harder to do …..We didn’t think we could do much today and today was especially important. You see, I have cancer and this will be my last visit and my husband will not be able to do this alone.”

She continued…”You are such a blessing...it is so strange that you were here at this very moment…we rarely see anyone on the days we are here. Can we pay you for your trouble?”

I told them no pay was necessary….that it was an absolute honor, privilege and blessing for me to help them and serve their son in such a small way. I told them they were there for me more than I was there for them. I thanked them for letting me help them. I hugged each one as I helped them in the car. With tears running down my face, I waved good-bye as they drove away.

I remembered one more question they asked me “Are you visiting a loved one.” I told them no, I was just resting under a special tree and left it at that.

But as I went back under the tree….I thanked God it was Him I was visiting and not the grave of my son, or daughter or husband.


As I sat there, I thanked God for the refreshing of my spirit through that sweet couple and their much-loved son. It was not bread, water, or rest as with Elijah and his visit under his Juniper tree….but to me just as miraculous and refreshing. The love of this couple for their dead son, reminded me that God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son for me…and I am here to gently and lovingly keep Christ proudly displayed in my heart and mind no matter the circumstances.

This elderly couple were my messengers from God. The message was clear…sometimes life’s daily challenges and struggles can wear us down and cause us to focus on the unimportant, the insignificant, the irritations and the things gone wrong.

Like Elijah who had just been part of and experienced the greatest mountaintop experience in his life…..was troubled by Jezebel’s words and started focusing on Jezebel and her threat on his life. Suddenly Jezebel became larger then God and he ran and wanted to die.

My lack of sleep, no clean socks, troubled relationships and Brad not wanting to do math…became larger than God. God lead me to my Juniper tree to show me Himself through a sweet couple that needed help making the last visit to their son’s grave the most memorable.

When I entered the cemetery that day, I had tears of defeat, anger, frustration and sadness…when I left I still had tears, but they were tears of joy, praise, and thanksgiving for a refreshed and renewed sprit.

(This happened mid 1990's))
(May be copyright protected)

Dog Sense

I have two puppies, Sammy who is 5 years old and Boo who is 12 weeks young. First thing every morning I take them outside to our large yard for a potty break and to expend some energy before we start our day.

When we first brought Boo home, he would never venture too far from me. It did not matter where we were, in the house or outside, he would stay close to my feet. If he did stray too far, any noise, or sudden movement (like Sammy whizzing past us like a flash of white light) Boo would come running (hmm, actually more like half running, half hopping and falling all over the place) and sit right on my feet, not wanting to go any further. I was his safe place…he knew I was there to help him, protect him, calm him and love him.

Now at 12 weeks, he is getting braver. This morning he was all over the yard, following Sammy and trying to keep up. Sniffing everything Sammy sniffed, and marking every spot Sammy marked (it’s a dog thing). I was pleased that he felt he could venture out a bit and join the big dog. I chuckled as I watched Boo trying to run as fast, hop as far, bark as loud, and stop every now and then to just sit and catch his breath.

But then, another dog from our neighbors yard barked and Boo came rushing back to my feet. Back to his safe place. He didn’t run to Sammy. He didn’t run to hide under the back porch chair. He didn’t run to the back door scratching to get in…He came to me, at my feet and sat down. Boo knows me well enough to trust me and realizes that I am the best place, the safest place for him when he is anxious or fearful.

I thought as I watched Boo sit so peacefully at my feet, even though the other dog (and Sammy) were still barking…. why I don’t always show that kind of trust in the One who is my safe place. God’s Word says: He will never leave us or forsake us. He wants to gather us the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings for protection. He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

So, If I know all that…and I do. If I say I believe, which I do…then why, when I am anxious or fearful, or troubled…do I quickly run to my friends, or hide in my own thoughts and solutions, or go scratching at some secular answer.

Boo reminded me this morning that it is always best to run to the best Safe Place first. To surrender my fears, anxiety and struggles to Him and sit quietly at His feet where I will find peace, comfort and rest.
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The Beach Flower

While visiting the Outer Banks, I had to walk a rugged and sandy path over the dunes to reach the ocean. All along the way, to my delight, I spotted these dainty and colorful clusters of flowers. They looked similar to a daisy with bright white, yellow, red and green colors. They had soft, velvety looking centers that winked at me as I passed.

These soft petal flowers stood out among the thistles, tiny cactus, burrs and broken shells to encourage me as I labored up the steep dune and slippery sand to walk along the water’s edge on the beach.

Rain, fierce winds, scorching sun and heat, marauding sand and trampling feet did not deter these little beauties. They were very, very sturdy and resilient. . I marveled at how a beautiful little flower could grow and flourish in such a rugged, harsh environment.

Then God reminded me that if He can produce and care for such exquisite little flowers in such a hostile environment, that thrive and give beauty and joy…then how much more will He do in my life as His workmanship, child and delight…as I travel through this life of slippery paths, prickly people, harsh winds of words and hurts and broken lives.

May I thrive and stand out in this life, no matter the rain of criticisms, the scorching heat of defeat and failures, the blowing sands of lost time and trampling of everyday life. May I be God’s human representation of the beach flower to smile and encourage those who walk along the path where I am.

As I saw God in that small sturdy little flower that brought a smile to my face, and delight to my soul, every time I crossed the dunes…I wondered and hoped that when people see me while walking their path of life, I, like the beach flower give joy, comfort and delight. May they see God in me as I saw God in the beach flower.

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