Thankful

I sit listening to her talk, basking in the glow of her joy - remembering back nearly forty-four years to the early days of my own marriage. The words bubble with laughter, and I silently give thanks. From the time she was a tiny girl we prayed for the one who would one day share her life. The one who would be there for all the joys and sorrow, the sunny days and the ones dark with rain clouds.

Thank you Father for answered prayer:

for time spent with these two beautiful women

for cooler days and brisk morning walks

for the work begun on our new home - the forms for the foundation that will support it all

a doctor who takes the time to be thorough - and then leans back to talk and laugh about all the things going on in our lives

the changing of the seasons - a constant reminder of His faithfulness

our adult choir joining forces with the middle school choir - watching with full heart as they worship

the heartfelt gratitude for four generations still sharing love and laughter and life

music

words - life-giving, live-changing words shared in this community

new neighbors - help us to be salt and light Father

linking to Ann's Gratitude Community

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - Relevant

Friday comes quickly, and it is time for another Five Minute prompt. Today's is "relevant," and I find I'm struggling a bit with this one - worried about getting the definition just right. I will just go with what has popped into my little brain and hope for the best.

start:

Relevant

There was a time in my life, okay there are still times in my life, where being relevant was so important to me. Being accepted and part of the "right" group was high on the list of priorities. It was, too often, the way I judged my own self-worth. I needed to wear the right things, say the right things, read the right things - be included in all the right things.

I am of an age now where that matters less and less. I am learning to number the days, the hours, the minutes - trying to make them relevant in the way I live them out. More and more I want to be relevant in His eyes - to switch my focus from me to Him - to find my worth in what He deems relevant.

It is easy to slip back into the old patterns - to look around at what others are doing, where they're going, what they're saying and want to be part of it all. It is sometimes hard to find contentment in less until I begin to realize that the less is more.

"He who has found his life shall lose it, and he who has lost His life for my sake shall find it."
Matt. 10:39

I am praying for that sort of relevance.

stop

Linking to the Gypsy Mama - Lisa-Jo

Blessings,
Linda

Giving What He Has Given

The land is ready and waiting. Soon the heavy equipment will arrive - to drill for water, to lay the foundation, to build the framework for our new home.

We have pored over plans, spent hours deciding on colors and cabinets and faucets and lights and all the myriad things that go into making a house a home - for us at least.

The email arrived in my inbox the other day - the answer to whether or not we could give an extra gift to the boy who has become part of our family, the boy whom we have never seen in person but who has taken up residence in our hearts. World Vision must be very cautious about this matter of giving, especially in countries where the poverty is so devastating. It would make things difficult if one family seemed to be getting so much more than others. So they carefully, wisely, make these heartbreaking decisions.

"...we learned that due to the fact that the family lives in one room - house,
what is more immediate and necessary for them are the interior doors of
their unfinished house...In this case we think that
the entire GN would go to the family needs."

I thought my heart would break. We know that they have been working on this tiny home for years. I had imagined something just a bit more.

"One room; no interior doors."

I am bowed low with the weight of all we have been given. We have always had doors.

We have always had rooms. We are blessed with such abundance.

I am grateful - for all we have been given and for all that we might give.

My most recent memory verse is this:

"But who am I, and who are my people, that we could give anything to You? Everything we have has come from You, and we give You only what You first gave us."
I Chron. 29:14

Everything I have comes from His hands - everything. My only resources are those things that have been given to me by a Father who loves me with an unending love. Help me, Father, to give back what You have so graciously given to me. All I have is Yours; let all I am be You in me.

Linking to Emily's imperfect prose.



Blessings,
Linda

Thank You For the World So Sweet

One of the things I knew I would miss, once we moved, was our walk. My feet had traveled that little country road for years. When I began, it was a simple dirt road. On the rare occasion when a car or truck drove by, I was lost in a cloud of dust.

Eventually, when the Christian School took up residence not far from us, it was paved. I had to learn the best times to walk, as another school and then a small subdivision were added. It was a bit treacherous when the school buses and parents delivering children to the schools were out and about. Still I walked - sometimes alone, then with a friend, then with my husband.

It was when the stores joined the ever growing community, I knew the days of walking along this stretch of country road I had come to love were numbered.

We have found a new place to walk near our apartment. It is much more urban than I would like. I felt the loss for a while, but then I began to notice the gifts the Father had scattered along the way. Truly, He is always there sending love and grace - if we only have eyes to see.

There is something so calming about water - and water that dances and bubbles over is sheer delight.

Even in this man-made pond the little ducks find a home.

A beautiful "bouquet:"
Texas Sage

a lovely "etching" right in front of my feet!

acorns - in spite of the drought - containers filled with the potential for new life

the wind making the grasses dance

a field of sun flowers

tiny beauties

a "portrait" painted against an impossibly blue background

a splash of color

And this! I couldn't believe he would sit so quietly as I carefully approached. Amazing!

And these two elegant ladies

"Thank you for the food we eat,
Thank you for the world so sweet,
Thank you for the birds that sing,
Thank you God for everything."
(Mrs. E. Rutter)


Linking to Ann's and the Gratitude Community


Blessings,
Linda


P.S. Our daughter is here for a visit from Paris. I will be spending as much time as I can with her. Please excuse me if I don't get to visit as much for the next couple of weeks.

Five Minute Friday - Beyond

Our word for today's Five Minute Friday is:

Beyond:

I waited and waited. Sometimes I waited with patience and hope. More frequently I waited tapping my foot, arms crossed, whining and complaining about not getting an answer. Any answer would do at that point, but the silence was killing me.

Some days I had hope that persistence would win out. Other days I was convinced I should just accept the emptiness as a silent "no" and move on.

None of my efforts to manipulate the Lord worked. It seems He really does keep His own counsel, and really does only do what He deems best. He also does it in His own time.

The day came when the silence was broken and the answer came. It came in ways I could never have imagined. It came with blessings I hadn't thought to ask for. It was above and beyond anything I could ask or think.

He is a God who is beyond my own meager thoughts and means.

stop

Come join us at Lisa-Jo's. Encourage and be encouraged as we share our writer's hearts.



Blessings,
Linda

Unwrapping the Graveclothes

It is a familiar story, the one in John 11 where Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. The miracle, the power, the glory, the depth of compassion all step out of the pages of scripture and minister to our hearts in a myriad of ways. It seems we can read the same verses at different seasons in our lives and find something fresh and new from the heart of the Father who knows our every need.

This past weekend I heard someone speak on this passage in a way that I had never considered before. He was speaking on recovery, and He was talking to Christians. Somehow we have gotten the idea that when we take that first step of faith and accept Jesus into our hearts as Savior everything from that moment on is going to be good.

Please join me and my little friend Timmy at Laced With Grace today for the rest of this devotional. We'd love to see you there.

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - Catch

Today's Five Minute Friday's word is change.


GO:

I went, humbled by the gift of answered prayer and unconditional love. I went simply wanting to receive what He had for me - trying hard to set aside my own agenda. He went before me, and from the very first moments he whispered, "Catch."

Catch the wonder of relationships formed with words becoming warm hugs, beautiful smiles and anointed words.

Catch the beauty of my creation - the wonder of My Artist's heart.

Catch the words of wisdom and knowledge so generously shared.

Catch the joy of simply knowing that I am here.

Catch the spark that I want to ignite in your heart.

Catch the quiet of the still, small voice.

Gather it all and then give it back to me that others might catch the glory and the wonder of who I am.

stop

Joining Lisa-Jo and the other beautiful hearts at Five Minute Friday. Come join us.



Blessings,
Linda

Aunt Fannie

Aunt Fannie always saw the glass half empty. It's just the way she was. I can remember my Mom describing the letters she received from my two Aunts living on that tiny island off New London, Connecticut. Aunt Fannie and Aunt Josie would often write about the same events - one letter filled with all the joyful news, the other with a darker view of things.

She was the middle sister of five - with a dashing younger brother thrown in for good measure. She was not the pretty one or the popular one or the one with the sunny disposition. I'm not sure if that was the reason for her pessimistic view of things and her rather sharp tongue, but so it was.

When all the other sisters were married off and busy with families of their own, Aunt Fannie remained the spinster sister still living at home and taking care of Mama.

When my Grandmother died, the question of what was to become of Aunt Fannie was a difficult one. My own mother, young enough to be Aunt Fannie's daughter, and my kind-hearted Dad offered to give up their own little apartment and move into Aunt Fannie's larger one.

I know it wasn't easy for my Mom. She had been so delighted with her own little place - sewing and decorating and making it into a cozy home. And Aunt Fannie was not the easiest of souls to get along with. There was that caustic tongue to contend with.

I was two years old when Aunt Fannie came to live with us. In spite of herself, a little hidden soft spot emerged as she became my champion - the one who felt I could do no wrong. Mom gently laughs as she recalls the times Aunt Fannie took my side when matters of discipline arose.

She patiently taught me to knit and spent countless hours with me. I remember her smile and the way her shoulders she shook when she laughed.

There came a day when my champion left our home and went to live on that little island. A quiet, gentle man entered her life, and much to everyone's amazement, carried her away to live happily (well as happily as anyone who sees life through dark colored glasses can) ever after. The fact that she even set foot on that ferry in spite of her terror of water was a testament to her love for Uncle Joe.

She loved to tell me stories about the summer I went to visit her all by myself. I think I was about four at the time. I wish I could remember it myself, but I loved to hear the stories. The memories of that special time, formed of her words and the black and white pictures in my photo album, are precious to me.

Life for Aunt Fannie seemed to run full circle. In her later years, when Uncle Joe had passed away, she went to live with a younger sister who was also a widow. My Mom often says that we don't really change much when we get older; we just get "more so." I think that's the way it was with Aunt Fannie. She really didn't mellow. The pessimistic outlook remained as did the sharp tongue, but always there was that tenderness she did her best to cover up.

There came a day when she just didn't feel well. She took to her bed and seemed to make up her mind that it was time for her to step from this life into the next. I got to see her one more time before she died quietly in a nursing home in Pennsylvania. She had that sweet smile for me and promised she would do her best to get better. I miss her.

linking to the group writing project at High Calling - (Why not join us with a story about someone special to you?)

and Emily's imperfect prose



Blessings,
Linda

picture: the lighthouse we passed on the way to visit Aunt Fannie on her little island

Like Elijah

I walk and think about this concept of being real in our writing. If I am real in my writing this morning, chances are it will come off sounding full of self pity - like a plea for sympathy. I like to be encouraged as well as the next girl, but that is not what I am after. I simply want to be obedient to what I believe the Lord would have us do.

Elijah, with his mountain-top experience and subsequent dive into depression, has been my traveling companion for days now. My experience doesn't parallel his in every detail, of course, but I think I am feeling a little bit of what he felt.

My days at Laity Lodge lifted my spirit high. I came away filled so full I could hardly take it in. The gift of an answer to a prayer long held in my heart ignited a little flame, and I was determined to come home and burn brightly.

I did - for a little while. Then the dailiness of life with all the same old troubles threatened to douse that tiny flicker. I find I am at a loss for words. The admonition to "just write anyway" seems an impossible one.

I think again of Elijah and the Lord's answer to his self-pitying cry in I Kings 19. After ministering to his physical needs and treating Elijah to an incredible display of power, He spoke in a gentle whisper.

The LORD said to him, “Go back the way you came..."

The prescription He handed Elijah was simply to get up and get going. In the process He provided strength, wisdom and a friend (Elisha) to share in the work He had called Elijah to do.

The Father, who is no respecter of persons, has given me all of those things and more. So...enough. Time to get writing.

Blessings,
Linda

Thank You

It is a song we've sung many times and every time it touches something deep inside me. We sang it last evening. It says everything I long to say to a Father who loves me so well.

Thank You For Loving Me by Tommy Walker

What love the Father has lavished on us
That we should be called His sons and daughters
Precious in His sight
Greater love this world had never seen
When He hung on that tree
O why would He do such a thing
For dirty sinners like you and me?

Chorus:
O God thank You for loving me
When on the cross You made history
Lord You died for me
Forever my praise will go to Thee
O God thank You for choosing me
To be Your child and bear Your name
O Jesus I will never cease to sing Your praise

Verse 2:
Your love is patient and humble and kind
It's greater than all my sin
It always protects and trusts and hopes
And will have no end
It's Your love that lifted me up from the depths
Set my feet on a solid rock
With a firm place to stand
Lord I always will trust in Your loving hand

Bridge:
How wide how long
How high how deep
How endless is Your love for me
How wide how long
How high how deep
How endless is Your love for me

I look back over the past few weeks and am overwhelmed at the grace and love the Father has poured into my life.

Thank You Lord for:

- answered prayer beyond anything we could have asked or thought

- the gift from Your heart through hers to mine

- the joy of spending time with friends I had only known through their words; for binding our hearts together in such a special way

- perfect weather - the relentless heat of summer releasing its grip

- for rain - good rains that begin to replenish this drought-parched land

- giving clear direction

- the beauty of your creation

- the peace found in quiet moments

- the written word

- shared laughter and tears

- caring about the "little" things that loom so large in my life

- going before us to make the way smooth

- encouragement

- good conversation with dear friends

- loving me

linking to Ann's and the Gratitude Community

Blessings,
Linda

"Nothing But The Blood"

The gentle strains of a guitar, the beautiful harmony of voices singing the words of redemption, and His presence filling the room. Tears flowed, hearts were touched in ways known only in heaven, and we were blessed.




Nothing But the Blood


What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.


Refrain:
Oh! precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.


For my pardon this I see - Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
For my cleansing, this my plea - Nothing but the blood of Jesus.


Nothing can for sin atone - Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Naught of good that I have done - Nothing but the blood of Jesus.


This is all my hope and peace - Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
This is all my righteousness - Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Blessings,
Linda

One Song

I handed her a little piece
of my heart
with that familiar mix
of hope and fear,
knowing it would no longer
be just mine.

Reading the words,
I tried hard to hide
the tremor
Listening to them read,
I hoped no one would hear
the hammering of my heart.

She spoke into the quiet,
"It sounds like a ballad."
"Yes," a gentle voice replied,
"like a hymn."

The reel rewinds;
I sit on piano bench
waiting with that familiar mixture
of hope and fear
while she plays the notes
of the words I have written.
"It sounds like a hymn."

"If a bird has one song,
it sings it." she had said.
Perhaps He has given me a song.

my poetry workshop group

Linking to Emily's imperfect prose



Blessings,
Linda

Hidden Artist

One of the lovely "extras" offered during our stay at Laity Lodge was the opportunity to spend time at the Cody Center. Kathy Hastings, a gentle, patient and extraordinarily talented artist, came armed with all sorts of things to encourage us to experiment with art.

One afternoon I made my way down the red path, past a sweet lady sound asleep in one of the hammocks, and into the Cody Center. After tying an apron around my waist and finding a spot at one of the tables filled with art supplies, I eagerly awaited instructions on how to use them.

I pause here to confess that I have no hidden artistic talent. Ever the optimist, however, I thought perhaps I would somehow produce just a teeny "masterpiece" or two. We began by learning different techniques with water colors.

I'm afraid that's as far as I got. It all started out fairly well, but I became increasingly frustrated with my awkward attempts at painting. The perfectionist part of me, the one I try to keep under control, began to take over. If I couldn't do this thing well....I was just not going to do it! I couldn't find a trash can, so I just left my little pictures by my place, took off my apron and slithered off to nurse my bruised ego. The word childish springs to mind...

I walked around the beautiful, peaceful grounds and eventually found my feet crunch, crunching their way back along the path that led to the Cody Center. About half way there I saw Patricia coming the other way. She called out to me, beaming with the knowledge of a special secret. Patricia is an absolute delight. I was drawn to her the minute I met her. She is out-going, warm, kind and has a delicious sense of humor.

"Look what we did!" Clutched in her hand were my discarded art projects - beautifully framed and wrapped in plastic covers. She said the others couldn't understand why I didn't want them. They decided to rescue them and return them to me as a gift. I was overwhelmed by their kindness and generosity. They had taken my feeble attempts at painting and made of them something beautiful.

As I think back over that special moment, I realize it is symbolic of what the Father wants to do for me. He will take my "little" and make of it something very special indeed. All He asks is that I remain faithful.

I don't have to do the big, perfect thing all on my own. In fact, I can't do the big, perfect thing on my own. Only He can do those things. The amazing part is He allows me to have a small part in it (sort of like those loaves and fishes "thing" in Mark 14: 14-22).

Blessings,
Linda

In Our Midst

"For where two or three have gathered together in My name, there I am in their midst."
Matthew 18:20

We came together. He was right there with us. It was a little taste of heaven on earth. I was filled to overflowing because:

where He is there is hope

where He is there is peace

where He is there is love

where He is there is sweet fellowship

where He is there is joy

And we carried Him away with us - filled that we might pour out.

linking to Laura's blog today


Blessings,
Linda