"When I Get Carried Away"

We moved to a new town when I was seven years old. It was right in the middle of the school year, and I entered Mrs. Hewell's second grade classroom as the new kid. It was excruciating for someone as shy as I was. I couldn't find words to bridge the chasm that seemed to separate me from everyone else.

One day, while I was in the restroom, a few of the girls came in. They didn't know I was there, and I soon realized they were talking about me. They were saying they didn't like me because I was so stuck-up. I waited until they all left before stepping out - my heart was broken. I desperately wanted them to understand that it was only because I was shy.

All these many years later, I still worry about being misunderstood. Part of being shy, for me, means that I am not very demonstrative. I envy those who cry easily, who bubble over with enthusiastic gratitude and jump up and down with joy; the ones who dance with abandon during praise and worship. It isn't that I don't do all of those things deep inside myself. It's just that somehow they don't make it to the surface when I'm with other people.

When I am alone the tears flow freely; I dance and sing to praise music and fall on my face in gratitude. It would be easy for others to look at me and think I don't feel anything; to wonder if I am truly grateful for something they have given me. I long to be better at it because the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt someone's feelings.

There is a song that I like to think was written just for me. It gives me great hope and makes me dance and sing - when I'm alone here at home of course! Here are the words:

"When I Get Carried Away"

"Well, I don’t know why I become a little shy
When I get around a whole lotta people
And I can’t figure out why I never can shout
About the love that floods my soul.
I must confess, I can’t express
The feelings deep inside me;
The things I know and cannot show
One day will overflow.

I’m gonna let the glory roll when the roll is called in glory.
I’m gonna get beside of myself when I get beside the king that day.
I’m gonna have the time of my life when the time of my life is over.
I’m gonna get carried away when I get carried away.

Well, I’ll pass the clouds and shout so loud,
It may sound like thunder.
My tearful eyes may fill the skies
Until it looks like rain.
When I leave this world past the gates of pearl
And stand before my Savior,
I let my soul let the glory roll
If from the roll He calls my name.

I’m gonna let the glory roll when the roll is called in glory.
I’m gonna get beside of myself when I get beside the king that day.
I’m gonna have the time of my life when the time of my life is over.
I’m gonna get carried away when I get carried away."

Phil Cross

And this is how it sounds when Ivan Parker sings it:



Oh yeah - one of these days I'm gonna let the glory roll!

Blessings,
Linda

A Moment

The cold front blew in late Thanksgiving Day. It is always the same. The wind comes with sudden force, as though someone had thrown the switch on a gigantic fan,and a balmy day suddenly turns cold. We had arrived wearing short-sleeved shirts and left wishing for winter jackets to cover our bare arms. We also left with two gifts - our granddaughters, coming to spend the night.

The air was crisp and cold the next morning, and bright sunshine filtered in through the kitchen windows. We sat at the kitchen table eating Papa's scrambled eggs with sausage and toast. They chattered away about the things they have been doing, school and plans for the day. Watching "Cinderella" (I've lost count of how many times we've watched it together.)was definitely on the list along with playing games, building with legos and a trip to McDonald's for lunch.

I told them it all sounded good, but I had a little something I thought they might enjoy doing first. Earlier in the week, we had purchased little wooden ornaments, paint and paintbrushes in the hope that they might enjoy making something special for their Christmas tree. Happily, they decided that was a great idea! We cleared the table and got out all the supplies.

while they painted, I filled the kitchen sink with hot soapy water and for a moment just stood quietly absorbing the scene. Christmas music played softly in the background. The girls sat at the table with Papa, engrossed in decorating wreaths, painting angels' wings and mixing colors, little heads bent in deep concentration. There was such a sense of peace and joy bubbled up in my heart. I could hardly hold back the tears.

I am so deeply grateful.







Thank You Lord:
- for these precious girls
- for bright, sunshine and crisp, cold air
- for music
- for the way this miraculous season fills the heart with joy and peace
- for the legacy of faith in our family; we are so richly blessed
- for this life, this day, this moment

linking with Ann today at the Gratitude Community
and L.L. Barkat's "On In and Around Mondays"

Blessings,
Linda

"The Solid Rock"

"My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

Chorus:
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand; all other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the vale.

His oath, His covenant, His blood, support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.

When He shall come with trumpet sound, oh, may I then in Him be found;
Dressed in His righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne."

Edward Mote




On January 21, 1797 Edward Mote was born into a family that was not only very poor but also had no belief in God. He wrote about his growing up years: "My Sundays were spent in the streets. So ignorant was I that I did not know that there was a God." There was not even a Bible in the school he attended.

When he was old enough, he was apprenticed to a cabinet maker and was quite successful in that trade. It was his master who took him to hear the famed preacher John Hyatt one evening. After hearing the gospel message, Mote received Jesus as His Savior.

He settled in a suburb of London where he earned a reputation as a skilled craftsman and a devoted churchman. When he was fifty-five he was instrumental in the building of a Baptist church in Horsham, Sussex, England. He became the Pastor of that church and served there for twenty-one years when ill health caused him to retire. He died one year later.

Just before his death he is quoted as saying, "The truths I have been preaching, I am now living upon, and they do very well to die upon."
"For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." 1 Corinthians 3:11

Blessings,
Linda

"O For A Thousand Tongues

"O, for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer's praise
The glories of my God and King, the triumphs of His grace.

My gracious Master and my God, assist me to proclaim,
To spread thro' all the earth abroad, the honors of Thy name.

Jesus! the name that charms our fears, that bids our sorrows cease;
'Tis music in the sinner's ears, 'tis life and health and peace.

He breaks the power of canceled sin, He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean; His blood availed for me.

Hear Him, ye dear; His praise, ye dumb, Your loosened tongues employ;
Ye blind, behold your Savior come; and leap, ye lame, for joy."

Charles Wesley

May the blessing of His presence fill your hearts and homes with love this Thanksgiving Day.

Linda

"God Wants To Hear You Sing"

It is time to write my post and link my heart with the hearts of others at Ann's Gratitude Community as we count the blessings that have come to us from the Father's hand. Usually I try to list all of those special moments when I have seen His grace and goodness in my life and the lives of those around me. They are, inevitably, the good moments - the joy and unexpected glimpses of His presence.

Some weeks it is a bit more difficult to write a long list - not because He is any less than who He always is, but because I am somehow not able to see the blessings. They are obscured by clouds of darkness. It is at those times I remember that He has told me to "give thanks in all circumstance..." (I Thess. 5:18)- to tell my heart who He is and what He has done. And it is in the telling that gratitude begins to fill the dark corners of my heart and indefinable joy bubbles to the surface.

It has been a week filled with joy and sorrow, good things and hard things, hope and disappointment. I wasn't going to write a post today. Then I heard this song, and my heart remembered.

"God Wants to Hear You Sing"

Their chains were fastened tight
Down at the jail that night
Still Paul and Silas would not be dismayed
They said, “It’s time to lift our voice, sing praises to the Lord
Let’s prove that we will trust Him come what may”

God wants to hear you sing
When the waves are crashing ’round you
When the fiery darts surround you
When despair is all you see
God wants to hear your voice
When the wisest man has spoken
And says, “Your circumstance is as hopeless as can be”
That’s when God wants to hear you sing

He loves to hear our praise on our cheerful days
When the pleasant times outweigh the bad, by far
But when suffering comes along
And we still sing Him songs
That is when we bless the Father’s heart."

Rodney Griffin

I thank You Father:

- for Your promise to never leave us or forsake us

- for the comfort of knowing that You are the same yesterday, today and forever

- that Your plans for our lives are good plans

- that Your love is unconditional and Your grace immeasurable

- that You are good, all the time

- for the perfect joy of time spent with loved ones

- for laughter and tears

- for shared heartache and tender embraces

- for listening hearts

- for good books, worn from the reading, that bring such a sense of comfort and peace

- for grandchildren who grow inches when your back is turned for a few seconds

- for answered prayer and unanswered prayer and the knowledge that You see beyond this moment and know what is best



linking to Ann's Gratitude Community

Blessings,
Linda

"Open My Eyes That I May See"

"Open my eyes, that I may see
Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me
Place in my hands the wonderful key
That shall unclasp and set me free.
Silently now I wait for Thee,
Ready my God, Thy will to see,
Open my eyes, illumine me,
Spirit divine.

Open my ears, that I may hear
Voices of truth Thou sendest clear
And while the wave notes fall on my ear,
Everything false will disappear.
Silently now I wait for Thee,
Ready my God, Thy will to see,
Open my ears, illumine me,
Spirit divine.

Open my mouth, and let me bear,
Gladly the warm truth everywhere
Open my heart and let me prepare
Love with Thy children thus to share.
Silently now I wait for Thee,
Ready my God, Thy will to see,
Open my heart, illumine me,
Spirit divine."

Clara H. Fiske Scott

Clara was born in 1841 in Elk Grove, Illinois. In 1856 she attended a musical institute in Chicago and then went on to teach music at the Ladies Seminary in Lyons, Iowa. She married Henry Clay Scott in 1861.

In 1882 she published The Royal Anthem Book. It contained over three hundred hymns that she had written and was the first anthem collection ever published by a woman.

She died, tragically, on June 21, 1897 in a buggy accident.


In an interesting side-note, the hymnal I am using lists Charles H. Scott as the author of this hymn. A little mystery....perhaps just a bit of confusion about the first name.

Blessings,
Linda

Pretending

Hidden beneath the surface of an extremely shy personality, there was a little girl who wanted to be a star. In her own home she was a ballerina, but when her Mommy took her to dancing class she cried and wanted only to rush back to that place of safety. She wanted to be popular and out-going, but cried and cried for days when she had to go to kindergarten, sitting quietly alone and speaking to no one.

It seemed she just couldn't be what she so envied in others, but she could pretend she was. She could be Shirley Temple, singing and dancing in the confines of her own little room or a beautiful princess dressed in borrowed clothing.

When she got older, she tried desperately hard to be like the popular girls - but naturally curly hair just won't cooperate and stay straight, and making clever conversation was like speaking a foreign tongue. She pored over magazines, longing to look like the models pictured there, imagining that somehow she did.

Eventually she found her place in the hierarchy of her high school, coming out of her shell and participating in everything she could fit into her schedule - and then some. But there was always that longing to be like someone else - someone who seemed to be so much her superior. She spent long quiet hours, imagining that she was.

It wasn't something she outgrew in adulthood. It simply changed a bit. Instead of longing to be like someone she knew - or like one of the beautiful, gifted people she read about or saw on television or in the movies - her focus shifted to well- known Christian women. She would read about their lives and long to be just like them. Once again, she imagined herself to be something other than what she was - trying to pattern her life after theirs. It became a substitute for spending time nurturing her relationship with the Lord.

Somewhere along the way, the emptiness of pretending to be something she was not became too much to bear. She finally began to understand that she was special in the most important way that mattered. She was special to the Father. And not only special - but uniquely created by His own design. She began to feel more comfortable in her own skin - to live in the reality of who He had created her to be.

I am a grandmother now, and the days of pretending I am someone else have slipped away. However, there is, I have found, still that temptation to look at the lives of others and long to be just like them. It subtly creeps in when I read blogs written by women whom I cannot help but admire. There is a longing to be more, to be better, to do better - to be like them.

Once again the Father gently reminds me that He likes me just fine the way I am. Certainly there are things to work on - and that longing is good as long as it is not born out of a need to be just like someone else or to gain the approval of others. When I long to be more like Him, to be fully all He intended me to be, He draws me to Himself and says, "Yes."

linking to Emily's imperfect prose

Blessings,
Linda

P.S. This was a difficult one to write, but I couldn't seem to get away from it.

Besetting

Besetting sin,
familiar phrase
falling glibly off the tongue.
What does it mean:
habitual, ingrained, deep-seated,
persistent, ineradicable.

Begging forgiveness
over and over
for habitual, ingrained, deep-seated
persistent......
but ineradicable?
surely not, please Lord.

Even these willful,
rebellious acts,
that I excuse with
"not really big,"
are covered by grace
and that blood, spilled ?

Yes, grace sufficient
and love deep,
compelling me to
count the cost,
to measure with true scale,
to turn.

linking to One Stop Poetry today

Blessings,
Linda

Is Dad There?

She came into our hearts and home when she was just three months old - the answer to fervent prayers for a little girl to complete our family. The years have passed so swiftly. I blinked, and she was all grown up. There were moments I longed to freeze time - to keep them all just as they were for a little while longer.

However, time is a relentless foe and somehow she is all grown up, and we are planning a wedding for the coming spring. I am, once again, trying to slow down the days, trying not to think too far past the wedding.


For when it is over, she will move away - far across the ocean - to begin this part of her life in a new country. I don't want to think too much about that.

She has lived on her own since her college years - owns her own home about a forty minute drive from our house. I am used to her not being here every day, but this will be very different. We talk on the phone nearly every day and visit often. Each call and visit becomes more precious.

Occasionally she will call, and I will hear that certain tone in her voice and know what is coming;
"Is Dad there?" Something is wrong, and she wants her Dad. It could be car trouble, a clogged sink, advice on how to handle a problem...she just wants his help.

I hand him the phone, and he listens. Usually he listens a long time, as she pours out her frustration and complaints and then tells him the problem. He never interrupts or gets impatient; he just listens. Eventually, when she has unburdened herself, he begins to talk her through the problem - patiently explaining what she should do. Sometimes she bursts in and begins to go over it all again; he simply waits.

She knows he will tell her what to do, and if that doesn't help she knows he will come and take care of it for her. It doesn't matter what time of the day or night she calls, he is ready to go to her. She has that absolute assurance. He loves her more than his own life.

You and I have the same assurance about our heavenly Father. I think of the times when I cry out to Him in desperation, or anger, or pain, or doubt, or fear. He lets me pour it all out, and He listens. He always listens. He always has the time and is never impatient. And when I am finally spent, He assures me that all will be well. I don't always know how He will work, but I know without a doubt that He will.

There have been times when my husband wasn't able to take care of things for our daughter simply and easily. Times when it cost something to make things right. But he has always been there with her, seeing her through the difficulties.

So it is with the Lord. There are some things that are simply hard, and He promises to give us the help that we need to get through them. He is wise enough to know when to take care of it all for us or when to be with us as we walk through them. He is there with grace and strength to get us to the other side. He loves us more than we can possibly measure.

Dad's are just that way.

Blessings,
Linda

linking to Emily's Chatting At The Sky : tuesdays unwrapped

"Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me"

"Jesus, Savior, pilot me
over life's tempestuous sea;
Unknown waves before me roll,
hiding rocks and treacherous shoal;
Chart and compass come from Thee,
Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

As a mother stills her child,
Thou canst hush the ocean wild;
Boisterous waves obey They will
when Thous sayest to them 'Be still!'
Wondrous Sovereign of the sea,
Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

When at last I near the shore,
and the fearful breakers roar
'Twixt me and the peaceful rest,
Then when leaning on Thy breast,
May I hear Thee say to me,
'Fear not, I will pilot thee.'"
Edward Hopper

Edward Hopper was born in New York City on February 17, 1818. After attending seminary he pastored two Presbyterian churches in the New York area with great distinction.

In 1870, he began serving as the Pastor of a small church in the New York harbor area - the Church of Sea and Land - where he remained for the rest of his life. Here he ministered to the sailors who were working on the many ships.

During this time he wrote the hymn, "Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me." It became a favorite of the sailors, but for years they didn't know who the author was. Edward Hopper, a gentle, humble man had written it anonymously. It wasn't until he was asked to write a hymn for a celebration of the Seaman's Friend Society that the secret was revealed. Instead of writing a new hymn, he read this beautiful one. Of the many hymns he wrote, it is the only one we still sing to this day.

Edward Hopper died in 1888 at the age of seventy. Down through the ages his words have ministered to countless souls.

Blessings,
Linda

"Naggy" and Bossy

Have you ever thought you had at least one area of your life pretty much under control only to discover that you couldn't have been more mistaken?

We were coming to the end of our visit with the grands. I was sitting at the large kitchen table (large is the only size that will do when you have five children) with my grandson as my husband walked by on his way to put something in the car. "Why don't you grab the suitcase as long as you're going out?" I helpfully suggested.

My grandson looked at me with one of those worldly-wise smiles teenagers tend to give their elders and said, "You're so bossy and naggy!" We both had a good laugh at my expense, but his words left me feeling a bit unsettled.

I thought about his little jibe for days afterward. Is that really the way I sound Lord? I thought I was just being "helpful." I began listening carefully to my own words, and while J. may have said made that comment in jest, I realized there was something about them than rang very true.

I seem to be forever saying things that begin to sound a bit more like orders than "helpful suggestions." I like to be organized and have a plan (some might say I tend to be rather controlling), and since my husband is with me all the time he gets the "benefit" of hearing me verbalize those plans....often. I'm beginning to cringe inwardly every time I hear myself sounding, for all intents and purposes, like a little drill sergeant.

Those verses in Proverbs reverberate in my head:

"It is better to live in a corner of a roof, than in a house shared with a contentious woman." Proverbs 21:9
"It is better to live in a desert land, than with a contentious and vexing woman." Proverbs 21:19

I am tempted to make excuses; argue that I'm not being contentious. Perhaps not, but I have been naggy and bossy, and it is just as unpleasant. And, come to think of it, I can be rather argumentative - in a "pleasant" sort of way you understand.

My grandson preached me a much needed sermon - succinct and to the point. I'm asking the Lord to help me - to put a guard on my tongue. I've also apologized to my husband. I would so much rather have this said about me:

"She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue."
Proverbs 31:26

"Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips." Psalm 141:3

Blessings,
Linda

Picture: my wise grandson

Honoring Veterans

These are the two heroes in my life - my husband and my father. My father is a D-Day survivor. He landed on Omaha Beach with the 29th Division (the one portrayed in the movie "Saving Private Ryan") and spent the rest of the war fighting in Europe. My husband and I were privileged to attend the 55th Anniversary celebration of D-Day in France with my Mom and Dad. It was an unforgettable experience. The people of the little villages they liberated honor the veterans as the heroes they are. They cannot do enough for them to show their gratitude.

My husband served in the Army in Vietnam. It was a different time and a vastly different war, but he went with the same attitude and commitment that my Dad did. They both wanted to serve and protect the country they love.

They, and all those who have served and are serving, have my deepest respect and gratitude.

Blessings,
Linda

linking this repost from the archives to Emily's imperfect prose.

Contentment

“I got all red….again!”

Whenever we visit our grandchildren, my husband arrives loaded with special treats. They vary from peanuts to chocolate bars to pistachio nuts, but the one constant is Fruit Gushers. They would all be disappointed if he didn’t include those.

Last time we visited he brought the boxes with a variety of different fruit flavors and colors. The first time he doled them out, our youngest granddaughter got a little bag filled with red gushers. She was a bit disappointed but cheered up when we pointed out that next time she might get something different. However, next time she got a little bag full of red ones…again. She was more than a little disappointed. She stood holding the unsatisfying treat and voiced her unhappiness.

You will find me and "the rest of the story" at Laced With Grace today. I would be so happy to meet you there.

Blessings,
Linda

I Give You

I give You my sorrow,
that I might have Your joy.
I give You my fear,
that I might know Your peace.
I give You my striving,
that I might know Your grace.
I give You my doubts,
that I might walk in faith.

I give You my disappointments,
that I might have hope.
I give You my life,
that I might find it in.
I give You the thorns,
that I might breath the fragrance of the rose.

This is my contribution to L.L.'s Random Acts of Poetry

Blessings,
Linda

"i thank you God for most this amazing"

i thank you God for most this amazing...
e.e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes


(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)



how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)


Thank You Gracious Father for:

- cloudless skies of brilliant blue

- fresh breezes that bend the boughs of trees and then rush through the house, ruffling the curtains

- touches of color contrasting sharply with the hues of green

- cooler temperatures wrapping around us, sending us running for sweaters hidden in the back of the closet

- the anticipation of holidays that turns our hearts to thoughts of You and family and dearly held traditions

- the warmth and comfort of home

- for early darkness that quiets us

- for the seasonal reminder of Your faithfulness and unfailing love

linking to Ann's Gratitude Community



Blessings,
Linda

O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go"

"O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
that in thine ocean depths its flow
may richer, fuller be.

O Light that follow'st all my way,
I yield my flick'ring torch to thee;
my heart restores its borrowed ray,
that in thy sunshines's blaze its day
may brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain
that morn shall tearless be.

O cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life's glory dead,
and from the ground there blossoms red
life that shall endless be."

George Matheson 1842-1906

George Matheson wrote this exquisite hymn in 1882. He was visually impaired when he was a young boy, his vision gradually worsening until he was almost totally blind. However, he was very gifted academically, attending university and the Seminary of the Church of Scotland.

"An actual account of the writing of this hymn was found in Dr. Matheson's own personal records. Something happened to him that he described as 'known only to myself, and which caused me the most sever mental suffering.' He went on to relate that he completed the hymn in five minutes under the most unusual anointing, and that it was the fruit of that suffering. 'I had the impression rather of having it dictated to me by some inward voice that of working it out by myself. All the other verses I have ever written are manufactured articles; this came like a dayspring from on high. I have never been able to gain once more the same fervor in verse.'" *

*from the book "O Worship the King" by Joni Eareckson Tada
John MacArthur
Robert and Bobbie Wolgemuth

Blessings,
Linda

Perfection

Mom was sorting through the antique chest that holds much of her handwork and discovered several skeins of wool. She says she can't even remember why she bought them but wondered if I could knit her a sweater.

Of course I could. She has filled my home and heart with the beautiful work that flows from her hands - quilts, pillows, dolls, a little braided rug - so many things that add that intangible something that makes a house a home.

She found a pattern she liked, and I began. All went well until I noticed a dropped stitch. It was several rows down, but I managed to weave it up to the row where it belonged. Whew! I wanted this sweater to be perfect, and a dropped stitch would never do.

I continued knitting and purling row after row, and the sweater began to grow. I pressed it flat with my hands to check my work and there it was - one stitch that was noticeably bigger than the others. It must have been the stitch I had had to pick up. Somehow I hadn't gotten it quite right. I tried hard to ignore it, but - to my eyes - it stood out like a sore thumb.

I continued to knit, trying to decide if I could live with that flaw. There was a part of me that wanted to rip it out down to that imperfection and begin again from there. There was a time when I would have, did in fact. I just couldn't bear to have mistakes in my work.

Perhaps it is the passing of time, the years it took to realize that I don't have to be perfect, that allowed me to overlook the mistake. More importantly, it is the understanding that I don't have to be perfect to win the Father's approval. He understands that I am but dust. He extends the love and grace that make it possible for me to fail, find forgiveness and then go on.

In His kingdom, I find a place where I can come with my dropped stitches and imperfect sweaters and know that He loves me just as I am. And miracle of miracles, He will take what is imperfect and make of it something precious in His sight. He only asks that I keep on "knitting."

linking to Emily's Imperfect Prose


Blessings,
Linda

Time

He, who knows no beginning or ending
numbered my days
before I lived even one.
They came to me,
a precious gift,
with the admonition
to use them wisely.

It seemed an endless chain
when first the gift was given,
but the links slipped through my fingers
with alarming speed
when once I paused to see.

Now, with lengths of chain
gathered at my feet,
I hold the remaining links
in tender grasp -
treasuring each one
as it falls to join the others.

It has grown far too quickly,
this mass of linked days,
I pray for wisdom to use
those that remain wisely.
Ever thankful that one day
it will truly be an endless chain.

linking to One Stop Poetry

Blessings,
Linda

Update/ "Unanswered Prayer"

We heard the first rumblings just before the evening news began. Then the gentle tapping on the windowpanes. Inevitably we rush to the windows, just to see it - and so we did. Sure enough - rain. Glorious rain!

Later, I huddled under the covers watching as lightening flashed into the darkness. I love the sights and sounds of a thunderstorm in the nighttime hours. It is comforting to be inside our cozy home while the storm rages on the outside. I imagine myself tucked safely against the Father's side.

We woke to a clear, windy, sparkling morning. The rain gauge reported the good news - 3/4"!

And we give thanks.

"Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer; And give heed to the voice of my supplications~ In the day of my trouble I shall call upon Thee. For Thou wilt answer me. There is no one like Thee among the gods, O Lord; Nor are there any works like Thine."
Psalm 86: 6-8

Blessings,
Linda
Linda

"Unanswered" Prayer

When I woke up this morning, I discovered that some time during the night the petulant child had come and taken up residence in my heart. She looked out the window at the clouds and was disappointed that there was no rain. She began to pray and felt frustrated and discouraged - the same words over and over again, the days running into weeks, the weeks into months and years and still the answer does not come.

The petulant child tried a bit of whining and when that didn't work she tried persuasion. After all she had a good case. These were not frivolous things; they were deep, deep needs - well most of them.

The Father listened (He always does.) Then He began to show her the blessings tucked in around those "unanswered" prayers, and the petulant child was brought up short. She pulled in her lower lip, raised her drooping shoulders and looked into His eyes. And she began to see:

- The prayer for healing, prayed daily for years now, has not been answered.
I have provided wonderful doctors, medicine, and financial provision to help you through.

- The loved one has not returned to the family. It's been a very long time.
I have sustained you with My love and grace and brought others who love and encourage.

- There have been so many unexpected expenses.
I have given you the resources to cover each and every one.

- The house and property have been for sale for such a long time.
You have a home that is comfortable and good.

- There is such heartache for one we love so dearly.
I have loved and sustained this dear one with extravagant grace. I am working all things together for good.

- It hasn't rained in weeks.
I will send the rain - in My time. I have never failed you.

Thank You, Father, for answered prayer.

linking with Ann today at the Gratitude Community



Blessings,
Linda