No Condemnation: Hear It On Sunday. Use It On Monday

The sound of enthusiastic applause filled the church when Dr. Henry Cloud concluded his message this weekend. He spoke about a struggle common to all of us. He spoke with great wisdom and understanding. We recognized ourselves in the stories and were thankful to find that, as always, the answer to our questions was tucked away in the pages of scripture.

He spoke from the thirteenth chapter of Luke - the parable of the fig tree (13:6-9) - a lesson on "Getting Unstuck." Dr. Cloud provided a recipe whose simple ingredients are: Dig - Fertilize - Year.

Before we can use the recipe there is something we need to understand - the "why" I cannot seem to break the cycle of "try to change - fail - guilt - try harder - fail..." It was this that the Spirit wrote in bold letters across my heart; this that I need to make my own once and for all.

Like the fig tree in the parable, there are things in my life that need to change so that I can produce fruit. I know these things well and struggle to change only to fail over and over again. The man's solution to the problem of the barren fig tree was "Cut it down. It's just taking up space in the garden." (verse 7) It is the voice of judgement - living under the law. Sometimes it is the voices of others. More often it is a far more familiar voice.

"When I fail to live up to my own expectations, I hear my own condemning voice and call it conviction," said Dr. Cloud. I put myself under the law, and in so doing the fruit I produce is anger, guilt, shame and condemnation. I simply cut myself down.

Left in this state, I will repeat that old cycle over and over and over again. However, just like the poor fig tree, I have an advocate. The gardener in the story came to its rescue, "Sir, give it one more chance. Leave it another year, and I'll give it special attention and plenty of fertilizer. If we get figs next year, fine. If not, then you can cut it down." (verses 8,9)

Jesus comes to my rescue and stops the voices of condemnation. "Leave her alone," He says. Before I can get better, I need no condemnation, and this is what grace offers me. Grace - from the One who took all my sin and gave me His righteousness.

When I accept grace, I am ready for the recipe: Dig - Fertilize - Year. We dig, with help, to find what is hidden under the surface - the real reason we cannot seem to make the change we know we need to make. Grace comes next, the fertilizer that provides what we cannot do for ourselves. It comes from the hand of a loving Father. Then we need to give ourselves time. It takes time to get better.

There is no need to hurry. We are on a journey - one that is filled with joys and sorrows and circumstances we could never have imagined. It is a journey that takes a lifetime. Jesus takes you by the hand and walks it with you. It is His delight.

"So there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus."
Romans 8:1

"Who then will condemn us? No one - for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and He is sitting in the place of honor at God's right hand, pleading for us."
Romans 8:34

Linking to Michelle's: Hear It On Sunday. Use It On Monday.

That Beautiful Name

The hymn that is on my heart this morning appears to be a rather "quiet" one as far as the internet is concerned. I was tempted to look for one that might be a bit more popular, but I can't seem to walk away from this one.

It was written by Jean Perry who was born on November 25, 1871 and died on May 5, 1937. There is little to no information on her. She penned these beautiful words and then passed the poem on to Mabel Johnston Camp hoping she would put them to music.

Mrs. Johnston composed the music but was unhappy with the result. She tore the manuscript up and threw it in the waste basket. Some time later her husband spotted the pieces and decided to take a look. He carefully put it back together, thought that the music was perfect for the words and convinced his wife to publish the song. I'm thankful he did. I love this old hymn.

That Beautiful Name

1 I know of a Name, a beautiful Name,
That angels brought down to earth;
They whispered it low one night long ago,
To a maiden of lowly birth.

Refrain:
That beautiful Name, that beautiful Name,
From sin has pow'r to free us!
That beautiful Name, that wonderful Name,
That matchless Name is Jesus!

2 I know of a Name, a beautiful Name,
That unto a Babe was giv'n;
The stars glittered bright throughout that glad night,
And angels praised God in heav’n. (Refrain)

3 The One of that Name, my Savior became,
My Savior of Calvary;
My sins nailed Him there, my burdens He bare.
He suffered all this for me. (Refrain)

4 I love that blest Name, that wonderful Name,
Made higher than all in heav'n.
’Twas whispered, I know, in my heart long ago--
To Jesus my life I’ve giv’n. (Refrain)



Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - Older

Friday - and five minutes to write straight from the heart - no editing or second guessing. The word for today is:

Older

start...

I look in the mirror some days and wonder who that older woman is. When did all those lines make an appearance, and whose neck is that anyway? Most days I don't look too closely. I never really have. I just sort of wash my face, brush my teeth, comb my hair and face the day with just a touch of lipstick.

There I am with my beautiful young daughter and equally beautiful older mother. I find I don't long for the days of my youth and I don't dread my later years. It is true, that thing I've heard older women say - I don't feel any older on the inside. The heart, it seems, is ageless - forever young. It is the part of me that still leaps and dances, the part that still dreams. It is the part He sees when He looks at me. He doesn't see that face in the mirror - He sees "me."

stop....

Come on over to Lisa-Jo's and perhaps add your words or just read what others have to say about "older."



Blessings,
Linda

Don't Give Up!

"I love the Lord because He hears my voice and my prayer for mercy. Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath."
Psalm 116:1,2

Our hearts are overwhelmed by grace these days. Prayers we have uttered day after day have been answered in ways we could never have imagined. Many times it seemed as if the heavens were brass and our words were ricocheting back to us like hollow echoes. Certainly there were times of doubt and despair. But always there was a knowing that He loves us; that His word is true; that He would surely do what was best. We had learned the hard lesson; He is worthy of our trust - oh so worthy.

So we prayed.

The days, weeks, months, years slipped through our fingers, and we waited. The urgency of one particular need pressed us to our faces. It began to look as though all was lost.

Then the phone call came. A ray of hope was filtering through the darkness, and we began to see Him move in powerful ways. Our hearts were overwhelmed at the magnitude of His goodness, at the wonder of His ways.

I write to give Him praise. I have done nothing to warrant such love and grace. He is good; He is faithful; He is everything we could ever desire and so much more.

I write to encourage anyone who has lost hope. To the one who fears that the deepest cry of their heart has not reached His ears. It can never be so. He hears each voice as though it were the only voice calling out to Him. He answers prayer - in His way and in His time. When things don't seem to be going the way we planned; when the answer is "wait" or even "no," rest assured that He will answer in ways that will bring greater blessing than we could ever have imagined.

I write to give Him thanks. That word seems too small to hold all the things we feel at this moment. My husband quoted the words from one of his favorite songs this morning, "...so unworthy of such mercy.." The depth and the riches of His love and mercy are unfathomable. And we give thanks!

"Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness,
and for his wonderful works to the children of men!"
Psalms 107.8

linking to Emily's imperfect prose today



Blessings,
Linda

Forgiving Me

I sat transfixed, that last evening of our Women's Retreat, as she spoke about forgiveness - more specifically forgiving ourselves. A mixture of fear and hope whirled around in my heart. Could I possibly, once and for all, forgive myself for the things that haunted my nights and sometimes even my days?

I am a good forgiver - some even say I too easily forgive and forget, that sometimes things need to be forgiven and dealt with. I'm not very good at confrontation. But that is something for another time.

The one I find most difficult to forgive is me. I know that my sins are covered by the blood of Jesus - that His death on the cross was all the sacrifice needed for every sin I could ever possibly commit. I know that. It is the forgetting that is so difficult.

Over and over again, the things I most regret run through my mind like a video set on never ending replay. The nights are the most difficult. Once begun, the list runs back through the years unearthing all the things I've confessed, all the things He's forgiven with such grace and love.

She spoke that night about such things - this inability to let go of the past. Then she asked us to take paper and pen and write them down, all those things that stalked with weapons of guilt and shame. With those opposing emotions of fear and hope I wrote.

Then she told us to fold the paper tightly and place it in the container she was passing around. It made its way around the room, filling with the grief and weight of so many burdened hearts.

"I am not going to read these," she said. "I'm going to take them outside to the campfire and toss every one of them in. They are going to burn up and disappear, never to be whole again."

That was all, but I felt something stir deep inside. There was a lifting of a tremendous weight and an overwhelming sense of peace. Something about knowing that paper would be forever destroyed made forgiveness real. It was a picture of what the Father had been saying all along. He forgives and remembers no more. How, I wondered, is it possible for the God who knows all things to forget the terrible things I've done? I believe it is simply that He chooses to do so. He clears my record of guilt (Ps. 32:2) and puts my sin out of sight (Ps. 32:1).

There are times I am tempted to look back over my shoulder, but I remember that fire and my sins all burned to ashes. And I accept grace.

linking to Ann's today



Blessings,
Linda

picture courtesy of photobucket

Making the Complex Simple

Church has, quite literally, always been a part of my life - an integral part of my life. I have attended several different churches over the years, from the little country church pictured above to the mega-church we now attend.

The personalities of the Pastors of these churches were as varied as their size, and God has used each one to touch my life in unique ways. My current Pastor's name is Robert - the very first one who prefers to be called by his given name. It is, perhaps, an indication of the gift we treasure in him. He has a God-given ability to take the complex and make it simple. It is no small thing to struggle over some deep spiritual question and then have it put into terms that make it suddenly clear.

Last night in church Robert said he was going to sum up the work of the Holy Spirit for us in one simple sentence:


"Everything that makes God real and personal to you is the work of the Holy Spirit."

Deep sigh of relief. To say that at one time I struggled with this would be an understatement. Without going too deeply into it all, suffice it to say that some people's views on what it means to be filled with the Holy Spirit nearly destroyed my faith. I was left feeling inadequate - and something of a spiritual failure.

How simple to read John 14:15-17; 16:12-15 and learn what Jesus says about the Holy Spirit - that He guides us into truth, brings peace,  reveals Jesus to us, and so much more. When I hear a Christian song and the hair on the back of my neck stands up and my skin is all goose-bumpy, it is the Holy Spirit. When I read the Bible, and the words jump off the page and right into my heart, it is the Holy Spirit. When someone needs encouragement and I somehow find the right words, it is the Holy Spirit. He brings different gifts into each life and there is no "one size fits all" way to measure His work.

I need never worry about having enough of Him. I am filled and refilled daily. All I have to do is ask. He will never leave me; I am sealed for all eternity.

Miraculous thought - I walk around in this far less than perfect body, filled with the Spirit of the One who is perfect in every way. I read someplace that we have all of the Spirit we will ever need. The question is, how much of me does He have.

Joining Michelle for Hear It On Sunday. Use It On Monday.

Blessings,
Linda

"In The Garden"

"Will you please consider taking over the ladies Bible Study at the Nursing Home in Granville?" It was our Pastor's voice on the other end of the line. I hesitated for a moment, but quickly understood that it was something I needed to do.

I travel back thirty years in time to that small farming community in Upstate New York, to the little country church that was the center of our lives, to a Pastor whose teaching changed my life, to an old nursing home with aging ladies who would come to bless me more than I could ever hope to bless them.

We began each Bible Study with a little hymn sing. I always asked for requests. There was one sweet elderly woman whose hand always shot up first, and whose choice was always the same: "In The Garden."

I can still hear the sweet warbling voices and see in their dear faces what the words of that hymn meant to them. I can never hear it without thinking of them. I remember the morning that same lady came up to me and pressed something into my hand. It was a long piece of bright pink lace edging she had tatted. I still have it - a treasured gift from a tender heart.

"In The Garden"

I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.

Refrain:

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice,
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.

Refrain

I’d stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

Refrain



This hymn was written in March, 1912 by C. Austin Miles, a pharmacist who wrote gospel songs and had a love of photography. One day while waiting for film to process in his dark room he opened his Bible to John 20. Here in his own words is what happened:

"As I read it, that day, I seemed to be part of the scene...My hands were resting on the Bible while I stared at the light blue wall. As the light faded, I seemed to be standing at the entrance of a garden, looking down a gently winding path shaded by olive branches. A woman in white, with head bowed, hand clasping her throat as if to choke back her sobs, walked slowly into the shadows. It was Mary. As she came to the tomb, upon which she placed her hand, she bent over to look in amd hurried away. John, in flowing robe, appeared, looking at the tomb; then came Peter, who entered the tomb, followed slowly by John.

As they departed, Mary reappeared, leaning her head upon her arm at the tomb. She wept. Turning herself, she saw Jesus standing; so did I. I knew it was He. She knelt before Him, with arms outstretch and looking into His face, cried, 'Rabboni!'
I awakened in full light, gripping my Bible, with muscles tense and nerves vibrating. Under the inspiration of this vision I wrote as quickly as the words would be formed the poem exactly as it has since appeared. That evening I wrote the music."
(taken from the book "Then Sings My Soul" by Robert J. Morgan)

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - New

Time for Five Minute Friday again (my how quickly the days are flying by!).
This week's word is:

New

start:I heard the truck horn toot, looked out the kitchen window and saw the familiar bright yellow truck in the driveway. Mel, our mailman, was waiting with a package in his hands.

"Don't tell me you're moving!" I told him about the contract and the plans to move in the next few weeks. "I am going to miss you so much."

I will miss him too. He is a mailman extraordinaire - always going above and beyond. His familiar tuneless whistle has been a pleasant part of my morning for years.

It is funny - the way we long for something new and when the time comes, we look back at the old with a certain yearning. We have been waiting for this "new" for a very long time. It is here and suddenly the old becomes very precious - something to be treasured.

It is the same in my spiritual life. I long for the new, but when faced with stepping out of my comfort zone the old begins to look very appealing...

stop

Please join me at Lisa-Jo's for Five Minute Friday.

Blessings,
Linda

Miracle Man

I believe in miracles. I believe that sometimes people are miraculously healed. I also believe that sometimes healing comes in other ways. Mine came in the form of a gentle, soft spoken surgeon, who looked me in the eye and said, "You must have this operation."

I had been to others over the years - ones who left the choice to me. I had also seen what scoliosis surgery involved. The surgical instruments looked unsettlingly like the tools my husband had in his shop, and I always decided I'd just wait.

So that day in Dr. Sanders office I said, "I need someone to tell me what to do." And he did. The curve in my back had progressed to the point of threatening my pulmonary function and my heart. If nothing was done, the prognosis wasn't good.

My fifty-first birthday was an eventful one. I slept through most of it as Dr. Sanders and his team painstakingly inserted three rods into my back, re-sectioned the ribs on my right side, and put me all back together again. Several months later I was walking around with a not perfect, but much improved back.

The day before my surgery, Dr. Sanders checked me over one more time. Before I left his office he said, "I'm going to church tonight, and I'll be praying for you." I felt such a sense of peace and gratitude.

I saw Dr. Sanders this morning. I go once a year just to make sure everything is still where it's supposed to be. It will be the last time I see him as his patient. He is now seventy-nine years old and will be retiring at the end of the month. He is such a kind, dear man. I reluctantly said good-by when the exam was over and then walked over and gave him a hug. He kissed me on the cheek.

He is the miracle the Father used to heal my poor, sick back.

linking to Emily's imperfect prose

Blessings,
Linda

The Door

Jesus is so many things to us. He is Savior, Redeemer, peace, hope, joy, life abundant. He is our righteousness and our victorious Lord. He is a friend like no other. He is very God.

He called Himself the Bread of Life, the Living Water, the Good Shepherd. He also said that He is the Door.

John 10:9
I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.

I imagine myself standing in a room with many doors, each one opening to a different path. The choice is mine. Isn’t that always the most difficult part – the choosing? How much easier if there were just the one door – the right door. Then I could walk right through and all would be well.

I am at Laced With Grace today (wednesday). For the rest of my devotional, please join me there.

 

Blessings,
Linda

The Grommer

The chairs are arranged in rows facing the flat screen tv fastened to the wall. When we walked into the waiting room that day, we had to make our way to the front of the room. It was a busy morning at the V.A.

We found our seats and settled in for the wait. I always, always bring a book. It is my insurance against having to wait abnormally long periods of time. My husband quietly watched the latest news flash across the screen.

Soon the familiar sound of a cell phone ringtone filled the air. I nearly jumped out of my seat as the loud "Hello!" rang around the crowded room. Evidently the caller was hard of hearing or this guy thought long distance meant you have to yell louder.

It must have been some time since they'd spoken. The whole waiting room was treated to all the latest family news. "Yeah, she didn't even know she was pregnant. Uh huh - twins!"

It was all I could do not to turn around and get a good look at this guy. On and on he chatted, growing increasingly louder. "Yeah - she went back to work. She's a groomer. A groomer. A Groomer!!!" Yup - definitely hard of hearing.

Cell phone guy upped the volume another notch - "You know, a groomer - G.R.O.M.M.E.R.!"

I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. I will admit I was annoyed at his rudeness for a long time, but he redeemed himself.

Blessings,
Linda

The "Reveal"

On November 10, 2006 I celebrated my birthday with the good news that after two years on the market we finally had a buyer for our house. I was so excited I even wrote a post about it.

Two months later that celebratory post was followed by this one. To say we were disappointed would be a huge understatement.

We continued to pray that the house would sell. There were times when I told the Lord that unless He directed otherwise, I was going to unpack every single box (I had unpacked some) and assume He didn't want us to move. And every time, someone would show up to view the house - a gentle whisper to keep waiting.

And praying....praying open-handedly, wanting more than anything else His will.

At the end of July we got a call from our indefatigable real estate agent. There was a couple that wanted to come and see the house. We have learned to temper our excitement, but, honestly, it is hard to not hope just a little.

They came; they looked; they left. Same old story.

But....on July 31st they made an offer on the house, and a week later we had come to an agreement. The contract has been signed. We are still pinching ourselves.

We are also still praying fervently for the Father to go before us. I don't think I'll truly rest easy (a testament to my tendency to worry) until the end of the month when we have the closing.

In the meantime, we've picked up where we left off four and a half years ago. Our builder kindly kept our plans on hold. Our five acres is patiently waiting for us. We are moving forward.

I cannot tell you how grateful we are. Not too long ago my husband was talking about prayer and questioning how long we should pray for something when it seems that nothing is happening. As so often happens, a short time later we heard a sermon that answered his question. As long as the Lord hasn't given a definite "no" - keep praying. He continued to pray daily for a buyer for our home.

When I think of all that is going on in this world, the suffering, the heartaches, the sickness, the poverty, the injustices.... to see that He cares about the seemingly insignificant things - our dreams and desires - is overwhelming. His love is unfathomable.

Truly, if He never gave me another thing, He has already given me far more than I could ever deserve - priceless treasures of eternal value. But He delights to give us good things. He is so very good.

Soon we will say good-bye to this dear place. I have lived here longer than any other house - twenty-eight years. It has held us in its embrace through times of joy and sorrow. It is filled with precious memories.

Another family will fill its rooms with life and love, and we will begin to make memories in a new place.

 Thank you for your prayers - your faithful prayers. It has been such a long journey, and you have encouraged  and blessed me with such love. I never could have imagined, when I began blogging five years ago, the rich blessings that would come with it. Some might wonder how blog posts could possibly foster relationships. We have come to know that, far more than words on a screen, something special has happened here. We have become dear friends in every sense of the word.  We share from our hearts and are bound together with cords of love and faith. My life has been greatly enriched by you.

Thank you,
Linda

linking to Ann's gratitude community

Thank You

Stopping by to say thank you for all the sweet comments. I don't mean to be mysterious - just have to wait a little while before I share our news.

I don't know what I would do without you dear friends. You sure do bless my life.

Blessings,
Linda

Big "Doin's"

Big "doin's" around here. I won't have much time to visit for the next few days, so please forgive. I'll share just as soon as I am able.

Blessings,
Linda

God Wants To Hear You Sing

I am going to do something a little different this weekend. While we deeply love the old hymns of the faith, my husband (the best bass singer I know) and I love Southern Gospel music. I'd like to share this song by Greater Vision with you. I can never listen to it without tears and goosebumps - without feeling drawn into His presence.

It was written by Rodney Griffin, Greater Vision's baritone singer. A truly gifted song writer, he has been named song writer of the year every year since 1998 as well as favorite baritone. I am thankful the Lord gave him this song.

If you are going through a difficult time, I pray this song will minister to you. There comes a time in each of our lives when we must walk a path that seems hopeless. It is during those times God longs to know that we love Him still, for He will never stop loving us.





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.

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - Whole

I am late to the party - again - but I am here nevertheless. I think I'm in a bit of a silly mood. It may have to do with being tired and stressed over some things.

Be that as it may...here is the word Lisa-Jo has handed us this Friday:

WHOLE

start:

Reading today's word, my first reaction was to think of a deeply spiritual application. After all, being made whole is what it is all about; Jesus taking this mess of me and making something of value of it all. However, the more I thought about "whole" and kept saying it over and over again to myself - the funnier it sounded.

I kept coming up with ideas like: the whole enchilada, or the whole wide world, or the whole doggone thing. I'm not sure if this is an indication of selfishness or just plain silly. I do know that as I thought about those uses of the word I did think about Jesus, about how I want it all. I want the whole package.

I sometimes feel as though I am a bunch of little pieces all spread out on the living room floor waiting to be put into some sort of sensible order. We, the Lord and I, work on one part and get it in fairly good shape only to realize there is much work to be done on that other part over there.

And so it goes - a seemingly endless job of putting this fractured daughter into a recognizable whole. While we're at it, I know that not only do I want to be put together into one whole piece, I want to have the whole of Jesus...

stop

Come visit Lisa-Jo's blog and add your ideas on "whole." I'd love to hear what you have to say.






Blessings,
Linda

Photo: photobucket

Satisfied

They have come to depend on me for water, these frisky twins and their feathered friends, and so I brave the 103 degree heat to refill the birdbath. I scrub away the accumulated scum and wonder how they can stand to drink this dirty, tepid water. I do my best to keep it drinkable - but I am a poor substitute for a cool, clear stream of running water.

I make my way to the hose and drag it over to the birdbath. It is in the shade now, and I hope they will all enjoy a cool drink this evening.

 The grass crunches under my feet as I walk back toward the water spigot, and I can't bear to pass it by. I stand holding the hose over the cracked earth and watch it drink. It is so dry, and I know I can never satisfy such a deep thirst. The lawn is too big, and I am mindful that we don't have a bottomless well. I must be careful not to use too much water.

It hurts the eyes to look around and see the deep need - a need I cannot satisfy.

The sky is that perfect blue with only a few little puffs of white. They hold no promise.

And the sun beats hot - unrelenting day after day.

I turn off the water and coil the hose back into a limp roll, and I pray. Pray to the only one who can satisfy the need of this thirsty land. For there are some things that only He can do.

I think of my own heart, of the times I have tried to satisfy its cravings with things that promised much and left me feeling empty and lost. It seems my heart has been fashioned in such a way that there is only One who can perfectly fill it. When I give Him entrance, He comes; He satisfies; He fills.

"O God, Thou art my God; I shall seek Thee earnestly;
My soul thirsts for Thee, my flesh yearns for Thee,
In a dry and weary land where there is no water.

So I will bless Thee as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands in Thy name.
My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatness
And my mouth offers praises with joyful lips."
Psalm 63:1,4,5

Linking to Emily's imperfect prose.





Blessings,
Linda