A Forgotten Water Pot

I am a Samaritan woman making my daily trip to Jacob’s well to draw water. Much is needed, for this water will be used for all of my daily basic needs. The sun is very hot, being at its highest point, and my water pot is very heavy. Because of the heat, traveling to the well at this time of day is not customary. All the other women from this region gathered much earlier around this well, in the cool of the morning.

They came, not only to draw water, but also to draw from one another. Gathering at the well is a daily social time for the women, and their children have a time to romp and play. There is safety in many of them traveling and gathering at the same time.

At this well, they find fellowship with friends and neighbors. They will be relaxed, because they can remove their veils and not be encumbered by the rigid controls of their customs and men in their lives. When they remove their veils, the shroud of their inhibitions is also removed. They are free to laugh, dance, talk and share their neighborhood news and gossip.

I come to Jacob’s well alone. Every day I come alone, as I am the center of much of the gossip of the other women. There was a time when I would walk along with the other women, but many of my lifestyle choices give them potent reasons to whisper among themselves. At first, they tried to be discrete in their whispering and would hide their arched eyebrows. As I made more unwise choices, they began to laugh, and gossip loudly. After awhile, they started being cruel and unkind with their remarks and actions. Thus, their children would mock as well, running circles around me chanting little songs about the many men in my life. I could not bear the ridicule and humiliation any longer. It was better to take the risk of traveling alone in the hottest part of the day, then to encounter any of them. Loneliness and shame became my constant companions.

Today, as I walk toward the well, somewhat preoccupied with my own thoughts, I hear a man’s voice saying, “Give me a drink.” Frightened, I look and see a man, a Jewish man, sitting by the well. I look around to see if there is anyone else with him. He is alone. A Jewish man, talking in public with a strange woman, especially a Samaritan woman? Why? Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans. We are hated by the Jews. I lower my eyes and ask Him why He is asking for a drink from me?

He replies with strange words, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you ‘Give me a drink, you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.”

I look at Him, troubled and confused? What water would He give me? I know that this well is deep and He has no tool to draw water. I ask Him how He is going to draw this “living water” and where does He get it? Is He talking of this well? I dare to ask Him if He thinks He is greater than our father Jacob, who made the well, drank from it himself, and even supplied water for his sons and livestock.

This man gently looks at me, and with a kind but firm voice states, “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst. But the water I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.”


Never thirst again? Like a fountain inside? I would never again have to come to this well alone, in the heat of the day. My heart is beating wildly in my chest. In a very excited voice, I ask Him, “Sir, give me this water, that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw.” Again, with those gentle eyes and firm voice, He tells me to go and call my husband and come here with him. My face turns red and hot with shame. I look away. Sighing, I look down to the ground and I tell Him that I have no husband. He does not give me any time to respond or explain, but says to me “You have well said ‘I have no husband,’ for you have had five husbands, and the one whom you now have is not your husband; in that you spoke truly.”

I cannot believe what I am hearing. I have said nothing about my life, or my unwise and difficult decisions. I start to speak. I want to tell Him that I was so lonely, so desperate for someone to love me. I want Him to understand that I did not plan to have five husbands. I want Him to grasp my pain and shame, for now my beauty and youth is gone. I have been used and tossed aside for many years. The man living with me now is also using me, even finds me pitiful, and yet will not commit to marriage. The words are almost out of my mouth, but I sense that He knows my thoughts better than I do. I say to Him, “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.”

I look at Him still perplexed. I do not understand why a Jewish prophet would be near the place where my people worship.

I ask Him, “Our fathers worshipped on this mountain and you Jews say that Jerusalem is the place where one ought to worship.” He answers me with “Woman, believe Me, the hour is coming when you shall neither on this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, worship the Father. You worship what you do not know; we know what we worship, for salvation is of the Jews. But, the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth: for the Father is seeking such to worship Him. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.”

I am amazed and mesmerized at all this Man is sharing with me. I do not know much about that which He speaks, but in my heart, I know one thing. I say to Him, “I know that the Messiah is coming” (who is called the Christ) “and when He comes He will tell us all things.”

He looks straight at me and with great authority in His voice, He proclaims, “I who speak to you am He.”

With wide eyes, I look at Him and my heart is sure that I am standing before the Messiah, the Christ. The long awaited Messiah. My eyes, mind and soul are overwhelmed with the understanding of who He is, and that He is the “Living Water”. Not like any water that I could ever draw from any well.

My water pot forgotten, I run to my city as fast as I can to call all the men I know. I tell them “Come, see a Man who told me all things that I ever did. Could this be the Christ?”

Many of the men followed me back to the well, for they were concerned as to what this Man knew about them. For you see, many of these men had been involved with me, and if this Man knew all things I did, then how much did He know about them?

We find Him, still at the well and talking with some men. He talks of food not like what we eat. He speaks of fields being ripe for harvest. Reaping and sowing and rejoicing together. Of gathering fruit for eternal life. All the men are amazed and believed in Him because of what I told them, and urged Him to come to our town and stay with us. He stayed with us for two days, and many Samaritans in my city believed, not just because of what I told them, but because they heard Him themselves. They knew in their hearts, just as I did in my heart that day at the well, that He is indeed the Christ, the Savior of the World. {end}


As I sit and think about the wonderful women in my life…old and new friends… I realize how privileged and honored I am to know so many women that love to gather. We gather together for fun, fellowship and friendship. We gather to share, cry, hug, listen and encourage. We cherish our times together…there is still safety in numbers and various reason to gather at our modern day wells….back yards, malls, church, bibles studies, home and of course the phone when we cannot physically meet.

Yet, there are so many lonely women…just like the Samaritan woman who had a special moment with the risen Savior so long ago.

The challenge is to actively look for those women….for those of us who know the incredible healing of past hurts, slights, and offenses…we need to take that “filling up” from the well that we know so intimately and share with others. We can offer this Living Water, through our love, care and friendship to those who are hurting, sorrowful, lonely, and afraid and are unaware of such Water.

It is always good to take some time to read John 4:1-43 and learn all about the first evangelist of Samara, a woman who joyfully forgot her water pot.

Home Base

It is early morning. My puppies, Sammy and Boo have eaten, been outside and now it is time to play. They are playing nip, bite, wrestle, run and chase with each other all through the house while I sit at my PC to check my e-mails and do a little writing.

As I sit at my desk, they come rushing back here every few minutes to wrestle under my chair and at my feet. (Sometimes my feet get in the way of the nip and bite). Sometimes they will both stop a moment and ever so gently lick my feet, and off they go to other parts of the house. When they are tired of all the playing, they plop down at my feet and rest. It does not matter if anyone else is in the house….they always come back to me.

I guess I am home base.

There is always a home base...in baseball, in hide and seek, in red light, green light. When you go shopping with family, you adjust your watches and everyone meets back at the information center at a certain time. In an emergency, like a house fire, you plan and your family has a safe meeting place outside the house. Your home is home base for the family members…even when they may not live there anymore.

A home base, a safe place, and place that everyone likes or needs to meet.

I feel that way about my times with the Lord. Weather it be during prayer, quiet times, bible studies, in my car or taking a walk. In other words, Christ is THE home base no matter where I am and that is so comforting to me.

I think of my church as my home base as well. My spiritual home base for sure….but so much more. I meet there with others that I love and they love me. I meet there for fellowship and instruction. I meet there for worship and song. I meet there for communion and prayer. I meet there to encourage and to be encouraged. I meet there to be of help to anyone who has a need. I meet there to search for new people and welcome them. I meet there to hug, laugh and share with those that greeted and welcomed me so long ago, and now are dear, dear friends as well as brothers and sisters in Christ.

During worship times, I love to just stop and look around at the dear faces all around me…all lifting their voices in praise. We are all together…gathered in the same place at the same time each week. We may not all have the same reasons for being there…for each life journey with Christ is different...but we all have one thing in common and that is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ….and it draws us to this place we call church.

There was another man long ago, inspired by God to write the same thoughts, but in a much more eloquent and spiritual way:

Since therefore, brethren, we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He inaugurated for us through the veil, that is, His flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more, as you see the day drawing near. Heb. 10:14-25

As you see the day drawing near….each day is one day closer to the Lord coming back and calling His own home…to our new home base…a glorious new home base…with God the Father and Christ the Son.

Until then, like my puppies...I will gather at my home base…and rest at the feet of my Living Savior.

Cracked Jar

I am a lover of music and song. Although I cannot carry a tune in any bucket (or in this case jar) I love to sing. Being hearing impaired, I cannot hear the music as others hear it, but I can hear some of it. My senses are little more refined…I feel it and sense it as it moves across the floor to my feet and up to the core of my inner being. It becomes a part of me as I move and sway to a beat that no one else can “hear”. I cannot always understand the words, so I love having them in front, on the wide screen for me to see.

Every worship service touches me in a different way. I can be exuberant with lots of energy and filled with incredible praise. I can be pensive, singing quietly and thanking God for all He has done in the past week, month, years. I cry often. Some Sunday’s, I am so moved by the whole ambiance of the service: the beautiful music, the incredible voices all around me, and the words that reverberates in my heart and soul…I can only stand and do nothing but close my eyes and listen.

This past Sunday during our worship time, in the darkened sanctuary, we sang:

May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart
Bless Your name, bless Your name, Jesus
And the deeds of the day and the truth in my ways
Speak of You, speak of You, Jesus

For this is what I'm glad to do
It's time to live a life of love that pleases You
And I will give my all to You
Surrender everything I have and follow You
I'll follow You

Lord, will You be my vision, Lord, will You be my guide
Be my hope, be my light and the way
And I'll look not for riches, nor praises on earth
Only You'll be the first of my heart

I sang…..loving the song, pondering the words, believing that my words, thoughts, deeds and most of all, my surrendering everything is what I desire and what I live each day.

Monday morning came and my office is the furthest thing from a quiet, darkened sanctuary filled with like-minded people singing praises to God. A report did not come across, a client called and loudly expressed his unhappiness, an e-mail popped up asking why I had forgotten to take care of something, a member of my team was off for her birthday, the heat was not working AGAIN and I had a raging cold starting to take over my nose, throat and chest.

I started stewing, I started murmuring, and my disposition fell into my chest just like my cold. It did not last long …because all of the sudden, the memory of yesterday’s worship…the words of this song came to my mind…and all I could do was hang my head in utter shame. I excused myself, took a small walk to the foyer and asked God to forgive me and help me.

I went back to my desk, found the lyrics on the Web, printed them out with a little boarder and tacked them on my message board for me to see.

I confess I am a flawed human being. I admit I sin in someway(s) every day. I do not always do the things I want to do and do the very things I do not want to. I have to face it…I am a cracked jar of clay.

That is the wonder and mystery of God and His love for me. He says in
2 Corinthians 4:6 and 7

For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

I may be cracked….but I am still HIS jar of clay…and He has shown me in so many ways over the years that it is Christ’s light that shines in my heart. It is nothing that I have gleaned on my own…it is Christ and Christ alone. When God looks at me, He sees the face of Christ…not my imperfections. That in spite of how badly I may behave at times…the treasure of this light, this knowledge, this glory of God, this Savior Christ is in me, God’s jar of clay….an earthen vessel…cracked and all.

God knows my weaknesses and my imperfections. When I go to Him to help me, He never disappoints me. He always offers a way of escape so that I may pass over the temptation to sin. I never know what it will be, a note from a friend, a scripture I read during my quiet times, a phone call, a look from my husband, a message from a pastor on the radio, a vision of consequences or a memory of how God helped me before.

This time it was a song…a beautiful song that filled in a small part of the crack with the holy and righteous mortar of God.

A Journey of Wonder

My personal journey as a follower of Christ has been on my mind and heart so much lately. More specifically, I have been remembering the joys, challenges, delights, struggles and encounters with my Savior. The picture book of my soul reveals pages of incredible highs, extreme lows, times of coasting, and times of learning, grasping, leaning, and developing the most profound and meaningful relationship in my life. It has truly been a journey of wonder.

I remember how I f felt after my first encounter with my husband Dennis. I went home and told my mother that I thought I had met the man I was going to marry and spend the rest of my life with….but that did not happen until almost three years later.

So it was with my first encounter with Christ, it did not blossom overnight. I was eight years old. It was Good Friday and my sister’s church was showing the silent film King of Kings, about the life of Christ. I knew this was, indeed a very special person. There was no one around to tell me, in words, what I already knew in my eight year old heart. I have never forgotten that encounter. I cried all the way home and off and on for days after because of the suffering this special man experienced and all those bad people.

God would use the next 20 years to prepare my heart for a life changing, beautiful and lasting second encounter with Christ.

You see, a friend finally told me that I was like one of those bad people because my sins were just as depraved as theirs….but I was blind to all of that. I was lost and in the dark….my friend showed me the way from darkness to Light. The precious blessing of that second encounter is that Dennis was with me, so my husband and I had an encounter together with our risen Lord and Savior. I owe Christ my honor, respect, adoration and thanks. I owe Him my trust and obedience. I owe Him my love, I owe Him everything...I owe Him my life.

I owe Him my time and attention. Yet it is not as an obligation. It is not a religious ritual. It comes from the overflowing of my heart filled with love for Him. I want to know Him, to understand Him, to become more like Him, simply because I love Him.

No one should ever confuse religion with a relationship. Religion puts unwarranted burdens on us, where a relationship with Christ takes away the burdens and offers a life filled peace and joy.

This is the reason I spend time with Him. And the more time I spend with Him the more I love Him, and the more I love Him, the more time I want to spend with Him, and the more I get to know Him. The more I know of Him, the more I love Him. And so it goes.

Jesus Christ, He is the most important person in my life and the time I spend with Him is never wasted… for His touch in whatever form He chooses always moves me and challenges me to be more like Him in word, thought and deed. With every breath I want to prise Him.

It is still, after 28 years…. a journey of wonder.

Whine Sputter and Choke

It never ceases to amaze me of how God can use a supposedly ordinary circumstance to:

1. Change my perspective and attitude
2. Let me see or experience Him

I was so excited. I was to speak at a small gathering/potluck at church. I was to share my testimony and talk a little about change (not pocket change) with our wonderful more mature members. These godly saints are very special to me and I felt so honored that they asked me to share parts of my life.

Mondays are very busy days for me at work and I knew I have to be totally prepared by Sunday evening so not to be so stressed on Monday. I made my daughter’s favorite “Sunday Chicken Casserole” and had my testimony all typed (in large font) and ready to go. A dear friend who is living with us agreed to put the casserole in the oven for me at a specific time on Monday. All I had to do was get out of work on time, run by the house, pick up my hot and yummy casserole and get to church.

Went to bed Sunday night with a smile on my face…I had it all planned…smooth sailing...ready to go…no hassles, no stress. I was proud of myself for such efficient and timely planning.

Woke up Monday with snow in the weather forecast…scheduled to start around the same time I leave for work…hmm...okay, maybe, just maybe I can leave work a few minutes early.

Things basically exploded at work all day….one of those days where you need two hours for every one hour of work….hmmm…now my stress level is building….5:15PM and an emergency conference call came through….. I push the call as hard and fast as I could and ran out the door at 6:45PM. I had 15 minutes to get to the house (a 20-minute drive on a good day), pick up the hot and yummy casserole, and get to church.

I run outside in the bitter cold, snow is everywhere, in the air, on the ground, and my car is covered! Okay, quick swish of the snow off the car…a revved up exit from the parking lot and I am flying toward the entrance of the freeway….while trying to peek through the tiny little hole in the middle of my windshield (come on heat, come on).

People are driving sooooooo slow and I am seeing nothing but brake lights and 270 is a parking lot. Oh, no…

I start praying, “Lord, you know the schedule, you know the time frame, you know, you know....I hate being late…I really want to do this for your Lord…could you move that snail in front of me…it’s all for your glory Lord…why did it have to snow Lord….I really dislike being late….I don’t have to eat…just get me there on time….That’s it Lord I can make it by 6:30-6:45 and still share what you have put on my heart…Lord open up a lane that can go a little faster then 10 MPH…..”

I am noticing as I’m praying that my car seems a little dark and where is that heat!…Oh, no, the battery light is on. The windshield wipers started going very slooowwww, my headlights are dim and my radio is very quiet. The car is slowly dying…the windshield wipers are not working now, the headlights are no more, I am driving in the dark… and I am freezing.

All of the sudden the plea and urgency of my prayer changed… “Lord get me to the next exit…I really don’t want to stall on the freeway…please, please let my car run long enough to get to an exit”….I was no longer concerned about being late...I just wanted to be safe.

God did just that…to the next exit, then off the main road to a side street and only then did my car sputter, choke and die. With chattering teeth, I called my friend at home and told him to take the casserole out of the oven and call someone at the church to tell them I would not be there. I called Dennis (and thanking God for cell phones) and he came to my rescue with his warm truck and AAA on the way.

In a matter of minutes, my concerns and perspective changed. What was so darn urgent and irritating was no longer an issue…being late was thrown to the back seat of my mind and I was now fearful, cold, and needed protection and care. My prayer went from pleading with a little whining and wanting my scheduled to be met…to asking God to protect me and get me to a safe place.

And God did that…He met me in the car and got me off the freeway to a side street. Not only that, but provided a car for me to use that very night…..all that and so much more even though my first prayer was more of a flair prayer with a bad attitude.

You see, God is so faithful…even when I am not. He is so gracious even when I spit out my puny little requests…er, I mean demands. I needed an attitude adjustment and God used a bad alternator to do that.

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; Psa 103:8-13a.

“As far as the east is to the west”…and He took me another 2 miles east to a safe place before my car died. So much farther than I deserved…but oh, so much like Him.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

There was a very respected, highly skilled surgeon who was asked to perform a very delicate, life saving surgery on a baby . . . only this baby was still nestled snugly in the womb of its mother. Being a dedicated doctor who thrived on challenges, he agreed.

The day arrives, the mother, trusting herself into the hands of the surgeon, peacefully sleeps as he opens up the womb of the mother much like a cesarean delivery. Although he had never performed surgery quite like this, it was really no different from the thousands of surgeries he had done before. With confidence and steady hands, he cuts through to open the womb and as he reaches in, the babies hand pops up in full view of everyone around the table . . . and gently, softly grabs hold of the surgeon’s finger. As quickly as it had grabbed his finger, it let go . . . and shoots back down into its warm, familiar little sanctuary. No one moved, no one said anything . . . silence swirled all around as they all stood in awe of what they had just witnessed.

The surgeon, being highly professional, tucked his emotions away in a safe corner of his heart, quickly resumed and finished the job he was there to do.

When it was all over, he went to his office. There, alone, he marveled at the emotions that little grasping hand kindled in his heart and mind. He heart overflowed with the wonder and the awe of it all. That tiny hand . . . fragile and translucent not only grabbed his finger but, Oh, so grabbed his heart that day.

He knew that he would never forget that moment, he would never be the same, he would never again look at a pregnant woman without that awe welling up inside him.

The awe . . . so clearly described in scripture . . .

Ps 139:13 18
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.”

Jer 1:5
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations.


Luke 1:44 gives us a peek into the womb that nestled John the Baptist...
When Mary the Mother of our Lord went and visited her old cousin Elisabeth and greeted her, Elisabeth said in an excited voice . . . “For indeed, as soon as the voice of your greeting sounded in my ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy.”
John the Baptist, still in the womb, heard that highly favored voice of Mary and responded by leading for joy.

How awesome, this thing we call a pregnancy . . . not really knowing or understanding how truly awesome it is.

Just consider the wonder of the most active and discriminating organ in nature...The Placenta

Now I know most of you are thinking UGH!!!.....that ugly and bloody thing that no one cares about.

Dr. Paul Brand, in his book, In His Image says this.

“It is a most remarkable organ, belonging neither to the mother nor the child. This truly awesome organ forges a supreme bond of symbiotic intimacy.
Burrowing deep into the tissues of the mother, the placenta interlaces a web of vessels through membranes so fine that all the chemicals in the mother’s blood can diffuse into the child’s, and all the wastes from the child can be eliminated through the mother. Yet, no open passage joins one to the other. No cells cross the membrane, and the mother remains’ wholly mother and the child wholly child.

The placenta is an organ full of mysteries.

It develops soon after fertilization, and from the mother’s physical standpoint its tissue is foreign matter...yet her body welcomes it for nine months. Furthermore, its nucleate cells fuse together to form what is in effect a single cell, the largest single cell in all of nature. The placenta nourishes the baby and has a major role in directing the intricate proceedings of the entire pregnancy. The placenta does much much more and yet in the fullness of time exits anticlimactically shortly after the birth of a baby and is discarded ....without a whisper of thanks.”*

Oh, the wonder and miracle of conception, pregnancy, birth and life. No wonder so many people in the Bible praised God for being such a great Creator.

No wonder we praise Him as well.

My children…God’s creation, now adults and yet I still stand in awe of their strong bodies and minds, their love, friendship, courage, common sense, loyalty, and strong sense of justice.

My grandchildren…a miracle in more ways than I can ever express, because they were both adopted and what joy, what delight, what happiness they have bought into the lives of my daughter and her loving husband…and to all of us.

We must never lose that wonder, never lose that awe that we first felt; no matter how many children, no matter how big or small, no matter how good or bad, no matter how young or old, no matter how near or far, no matter biological or adopted.

Life is precious and we must always remember that it is God who knows us and who plans our days before we are even formed in the womb.

Sanctity of Human Life Sunday is this coming Sunday, January 17, 2010. Prayer is greatly needed for the unborn….for the tiny person who has no voice. We are a nation so off track in so many ways…and we may not win many battles…some battles are not worth fighting…but this is a battle to fight…not with hate, or crime, or gun or sword…but with prayer, letters to our government representatives, donations of money, clothing, and time to pregnancy health centers.


I thank you dear Lord and I praise you because we are all fearfully and wonderfully made.


Amen and Amen


*(from the book,In His Image, by Dr. Paul Brand and Philip Yancey,1984, Zondervan Publishing House, Grand Rapids, Michigan, pgs. 201,203)

A Glow That Never Fades

I have non-electric clock next to my bed. One of those big round ones with an easy to read face, with the two chimes on top that look like mushroomed ears. It has a cute little hammer positioned so carefully between the chimes…and two pointy little feet in front, reaching downward like roots of a sapling. When ready to tell me it is 5:30 AM the hammer wildly races back and forth to awaken me with the most insistent clatter.

My husband hates it. He asked me “Why not use the electric alarm clock gathering dust on the table in the spare room?”

Why not indeed? Because, as old fashioned as it is, it is more persistent than a clock with a snooze bar that I will smack over and over and….yawn, snuggle, snore. Hmmm, I have to confess, I have turned my big face clock off and promptly gone back to sleep. So, why not use the newfangled but boring electric clock? I guess I love the feeling of nostalgia that I experience when I set it every night. Grandparents and parents had clocks such as mine on their bedroom nightstands.

On the hands of this clock are light absorbing reflectors that glow in the dark so you can see and know what time it is in the middle of the night. These reflectors require that some light shine on them in order to absorb light for them to glow. Sadly, because not much sun gets into my bedroom during the day, they are not getting enough sunlight to “fill them up” and make them glow so to speak. Every night, I have to hold the clock up to the lighted bulb of my lamp on my nightstand for a few minutes for the glow to happen…only to repeat the process the next night because the glow has faded.

Last night while I was holding the clock up to my nightstand lamp to rekindle the glow, I thought of Moses during the 2nd mountain top experience (40 days) with God and the Ten Commandments. (Exo. 34:29-35) Moses’ face shone because he was speaking and spending time with God. The Glory and Radiance of God was absorbed by Moses’ face…much like the hands on my clock.

Moses must have “glowed” because when the people saw him, they were so frightened, he would wear a veil to cover his face when he was with them. They were frightened because it was a visual manifestation of God to them. They were uncomfortable in the glow of God…to close for comfort for some…while others were drawn to it.

Just like the hands on my clock, Moses’ glow from God faded. (2 Cor 3:7) The radiance of the Ten Commandments faded as men twisted, manipulated, added too and reduced them to nothing but human law and regulations according to their own depraved religious thinking.

A new Light was needed….a new Radiance…one that lasts and never fades.
Jesus Christ is that Light. “I Am the Light of the World” is what Jesus said of Himself. (John 8:12, 9:5)

The glow or light of Jesus Christ never fades…never needs someone to hold Him up to anything for His Light to be rekindled.

I spend time with the Lord because I want His light to shine in my life. When I hold my face to the light of His Word, I hope that my hands, heart, soul and mind absorb His radiance, His love, His countenance and His holiness. I am like the clock though….I need that daily lifting my face to the Light…so His love will never fade from my face. May all who pass my way, whether for a brief moment or a lifetime see Jesus…the glow of Him who loves like no other and who has commanded His followers to love as such.

Jesus said, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.

Jesus said this to all who believe…to me…to you. I know I shine or glow with the light and radiance of Christ because His Word tells me as a true Follower of Christ, and filled with the Holy Spirit…that my face can shine with His glow and I never have to wear a veil.

Whispers of the Holy Spirit

Yesterday morning, I was tired, weary and hurting from a kidney infection and a visit from Mr. Fibromyalgia over the New Year weekend. I was outside with the puppies noticing that even they did not want to spend too much time out in the bitter cold. The ground was covered with newly fallen snow to cover the old snows of the last few days. The sky was dark and overcast with heavy, menacing looking clouds..."so dreary, I thought..just like my mood." I was not looking forward to going out in the cold, scraping my car of ice and snow, waiting for the car to warm up and then driving to work in the snow with all the “other” nuts on the road.

I was having a pity party all by myself.

With a hot cup of coffee and the puppies lying at my feet (warming themselves and my feet), I sat at my computer to check my e-mails. I received an early morning e-mail from a friend…72 words, 8 sentences…just short and sweet…but how it touched me. It was like a beautiful sunrise to my soul. I am always so amazed at how God inspires other people to write a note, make a call, or send an e-mail just at the right time.

I read it and re-read it several times, and then responded with a sincere thank you to her. She did not have to take the few minutes that it took to send me a note of love and encouragement…but she did. She could have totally ignored the whisper of the Holy Spirit to send her short but loving note to me.

We do that…we think we will write a note or make a call, bake some cookies to give and the next thing you know, one day, one week, one month has passed and that thought was nothing but like a warm breath in the cold air…dissipating… never to be seen again.

It is a challenge in our busy lives to stop, hear and listen to the whisper of the Holy Spirit concerning other people in our lives. Even more the challenge is to take the time to write the note, send the card, make the cookies...it does not take much….72 words, 8 sentences and the willingness to “just do it”.

I was encouraged, uplifted and convicted once again that the kind of love required of us who know and love Christ...is to foster a genuine, lasting, authentic, and sweet kinship that goes the extra mile for no other reason than to touch a heart and soul. For others and the world around us, it is the fruitful evidence of our own belief in Christ and the outpouring of His love working in us and through us, coupled with an awareness and understanding of how deep His love is for us.

After the note…my pity party ended. I was moved to thank God I had a dependable car to scrape and warm up…I had a job to go to and that I enjoy…and if I am honest, maybe I am one of the “nuts” on the road !!!!!


John 15:9 Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you.
John 15:12 This is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.
John 15:13 Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.
John 15:14 You are my friends.
One John 3:16a we know love by this, the He laid down His life for us.