Abiding

 

 "Abide with me; fast falls the eventide; 
 the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. 
 When other helpers fail and comforts flee, 
 Help of the helpless, O abide with me. 

 Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; 
 earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away; 
 change and decay in all around I see; 
 O thou who changest not, abide with me. 

 I need thy presence every passing hour. 
 What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power? 
 Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be? 
 Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me. 

 I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless; 
 ills have no weight, and tears not bitterness.
 Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? 
 I triumph still, if thou abide with me. 

 Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes; 
 shine through the gloom and point me to the skies. 
 Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; 
 in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me."

This beautiful hymn was written by Henry Lyte. It was written

on his death-bed. 

The words are truly inspirational.

Joining Sandy and Deidra this weekend 

as we join our choir recording the old hymns 

with Tommy Walker.

Blessings, Linda

Carried Away

Five-Minute Friday : Dance

start:

When I was a little girl, tucked safely in the heart of big, loving Italian family I was a "world famous" dancer. I danced with Uncles, cousins, my Daddy - anyone who was willing to bend low and take the hands of rather short Ginger Rogers. As soon as the music began, I was off and running.

Something happened when I stepped outside that warm circle though. The shyness that is so much a part of me shoved that little dancer off center stage and took right over. I cried so hard when my bewildered mother took me to my first ballet lesson, we just turned around and went home. I never stopped dancing, but I let that timidity keep me from realizing a dream that seemed to come with me at birth.

There is a southern gospel song that talks about the shy ones among us. You know the ones. We feel so much in our hearts that never makes it to the surface. The dance and the outward expression of all that joy stays buried unable to make an outward show.

But as the song says : "I'm gonna let the glory roll when the roll is called in glory. I'm gonna get beside 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."*

Yup - some day I'm gonna dance down streets of gold - and I won't car who is watching.

stop

Linking to Lisa - Jo's Five Minute Friday community.



*"When I Get Carried Away" Phil Cross and Carol Cross English

Here's the first verse:

Well I don't know why I've become a little shy

When I get around a whole lot of 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.

 

Blessings,

Linda

Doubts

These days I find myself longing to come full circle. Faith is a simple matter when you're ten years old. Jesus is real. You ask Him to come into your heart. He does; you absolutely know He does. You listen to the stories, memorize the verses, pray without a shadow of a doubt and walk with a certainty that God is in His heaven and all is right with your little world.

Life has a way of taking the simple and making it complex.  Eyes that once saw through a haze of innocence are suddenly open to the evil all around. Injustice, pain, poverty, violence and a host of other frightening circumstances wear away at a child-like faith that never thought of asking why. Before long the questions outweigh the answers, and doubt gains a strong foothold.

Have you ever started to pray and been assailed by thoughts that questioned His very existence - or at least the idea that He hears your particular voice. How is it possible? What if a million, billion other people were praying at the exact same time? And if it's true that He does hear and answer prayer, why didn't He answer mine - the one that was a matter of life and death? If He is a loving God, then why does He allow such suffering in His world? How do I reconcile a good God with the poverty and hunger that kills little children?

I know the answer. Truly I do. But sometimes those doubts come unbidden on an ordinary summer morning when all I want to do is pray. It is at those times  I cry out to Him for my old faith - the one that never questioned and simply knew.

We have been through this before - many times - my Father and I. He has always, only asked one thing of me - trust. He never berates me for the doubts that seem to come of their own accord, unwelcome and disturbing. He simply waits as I remember and look around me. See the miracle of creation and know it couldn't possibly have come with a sudden bang. See His Son and know that He was either the promised Messiah or a world class liar. Remember that He is; that His word has never failed; that He loves me.

Trust - it is the very heart of the matter for me. I stand with the twelve when Jesus asks the heart-breaking question and echo Peter's words:

After this a lot of his disciples left. They no longer wanted to be associated with him. Then Jesus gave the Twelve their chance: "Do you also want to leave?"
Peter replied, "Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life. We've already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God."
 John 6: 66-69 (The Message)

I believe that He is - even when the doubts force their way in. I pray for child-like faith.

linking with sweet friend Em





Blessings,
Linda

Drought

The drought was so severe last summer our little birdbath was transformed into the local watering hole. We prayed for rain - fervently prayed for rain.

It came in the winter months - days of life-giving, liquid blessing. We stood transfixed watching it pour from the heavens. We gave thanks. The drought was over. Ponds, rivers, lakes began to recover. It was pure joy to ride by ranches where tanks that had been reduced to mud holes by the drought overflowed with water. We had great hopes that this summer would be different.

They led the local news with the story today. We are officially back in a drought. The temperatures have soared into the triple digit range - the sun blazing from a cloudless sky. We drop to our knees again. Praying for ourselves and others where fires are devastating the land.

It would seem that occasional seasons of rain will not due. We cannot get by on last month's rain. We must have a steady supply.

 “And the Lord will continually guide you,
And satisfy your desire in scorched places,
And give strength to your bones;
And you will be like a watered garden,
And like a spring of water whose waters do not fail."
Isaiah 58:11

Blessings,
Linda

Chasing the Dream

Sometimes I sit here with an idea filling my heart and brimming over, eager to come to life.  However, if I decide to read what others have written first, the idea seems to shrink until it simply slips away altogether. Their words feel so big and mine so small.

I am beginning to understand feeling small is a good thing. It makes me run to Him with all my insecurities. He tells me what He thinks, and it takes my breath away.

Twelve years ago a little seed of an idea began to put down tentative roots in my heart. I bought a book about writing mysteries. I read it. I thought about different ideas. I let them shrink away. The book collected dust in its assigned place on my book shelf. 

Months and months ago the little seed I thought had long since died began to pinch the corners of my heart. I bought more books - hoping to learn enough to somehow become at least a competent writer. The pull toward story became almost irresistible and a lady named Matty walked into my imagination. She was insistent that she had a story to tell. I felt inadequate to do the telling.

I have a Father who has infinite patience and immeasurable grace. I talked to Him about the story - gave Him all the reasons it wasn't a good idea. He kept gently nudging me to give it a try. I would put out a fleece (even though many find it a questionable tactic), and He would answer. I would be amazed - and begin to question Him all over again. Time and time again He sent words of encouragement in a variety of ways.  And that Matty.....she simply would not go away.

I am taking far too long to get to the point because the truth is I am frightened. Frightened that I will do what I so often do and not follow through - not pursue the dream - when it gets hard. Frightened that I haven't heard the Lord correctly; that it will all be a waste of time, and at my age I don't want to waste the days. Frightened that I will make a colossal fool of myself because compared to those other writers I really am so small.

But I believe that I am supposed to give this a try. I've even made a  beginning. The funny thing is the minute I decided to do it, my computer decided it wasn't going to let me use my word processor! It took me forever to find a place to even begin (I'm not a computer whiz by any stretch of the imagination.).

One would think that at this season of life I would have all the time in the world to write. I don't. My days seem to fill with so many things, and the hours of quiet are few and far between. I'm going to try to take advantage of those times, so I will be limiting my time here. I will still write my posts, but I won't have as much time to visit or comment. It is so hard to write those words. You have become such precious friends, and I don't want to lose touch. I will do my best to visit whenever I can.

So....I'm really going to do this. I have no big plans. I don't know a thing about writing books (hence that big pile of books on writing). I'm just going to tell Matty's story (a bit of a mystery) as well as I can. I can't even manage to think of myself as a "real" writer. I just love words.  So I'll give it a go. It may never see the light of day (quite likely), but perhaps my family members will read it.

There....I've done it - committed myself in actual writing. You may hold me accountable. I'm the kind of person who needs it!

Blessings,
Linda

Light

 “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 lamp stand, 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."
Matthew 5:14-16

Joining Deidra today and the Sunday community



Blessings,
Linda

Resting In Grace

"Once I knew what it was to rest upon the rock of God's promises, and it was indeed a precious resting place, but now I rest in His grace. He is teaching me that the bosom of His love is a far sweeter resting-place than even the rock of His promises."
Hannah Whitall Smith 


May you know the sweetness of His grace in sunshine and rain, in joy and sorrow, in much and little.


Have a grace-filled weekend dear friend,
Linda


Joining with dear Sandy:

I Like Safe

 "Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking."

 

Risk

start:

Risk is not my favorite word. I like safe. I'm the Mom who got all upset when we had to wait until the tests came back on that blood draw on my little boy. I want to know NOW, and I want it to be all right. I haven't gotten much better over the years. I know better; it's just hard for this control freak to put it into practice.

The Lord has been whispering in my ear - rather persistently I might add. Every time I turn around I hear His voice. I even heard it in Lisa-Jo's blog post a few minutes ago. He is nudging me out on the edge and daring me to jump. I know He's standing there with strong, open arms to catch me, but I'm afraid of heights.

I question Him, even when I know very well He's been patient long enough. I remind Him that I'm sixty-five years old and there isn't time to waste on dreams that might not ever come true. Then I question Him some more, "Are You sure? Is that really You Lord or my own over active imagination?"

I think it's time to leap. It will mean risking things I hold rather dear - not important things mind you - just things that are important to me. It will mean investing lots of time and giving up things I like to do. It will mean being obedient and it will mean following a dream I've had for years and been too afraid to act on.

It may mean that nothing will come of it at all.  But it's time to take the risk.

stop:

Blessings,
Linda

Jesus at the VA

 We walk the familiar halls. It is difficult not to walk with down-cast eyes - difficult to look into the face of suffering. Some limp slowly, cane tapping down the tiled floor. Others propel themselves in wheelchairs - once healthy limbs now gone. Wives, the "weaker vessels" made strong, push husbands - carefully navigating the twists and turns into doctor's offices and x-ray labs. Men and women in starched white coats walk briskly - hurrying healing to broken bodies and souls.

I give what I have, look deeply into eyes and smile. It is so little.

I walk today and know that Jesus walks with us. He sees the suffering, just as He saw it over two thousand years ago when He looked into the eyes of the man whose friends had lowered him through the roof of the house. The man was paralyzed. His friends were bringing him to Jesus for healing, but the crowd was so great they couldn't get through the door. When Jesus saw him, He said,  "Friend, your sins are forgiven you," causing much consternation among the scribes and Pharisees. They berated Him for speaking what to them was blasphemy. Jesus answered:

 "Which is easier, to say, 'Your sins have been forgiven you,' or to say, 'Get up and walk '? "But, so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins,"-He said to the paralytic -"I say to you, get up, and pick up your stretcher and go home." Immediately he got up before them, and picked up what he had been lying on, and went home glorifying God."
Luke 17:23-25

I walk and in my heart know that Jesus is looking deeper then I can look. He sees beneath the surface of pain and deformity to the suffering within, and offers healing that comes wrapped in eternal hope. But He is not visible to those who populate this place of suffering and healing - they see only me. 

Oh Lord, that I might be light and salt.  Forgive me for not doing more. I carry a "cure" inside me. Give me grace and strength to share the good news.


Linking to Emily's blog today:


 





 Blessings,
Linda

Treasures Made With Love

She often has a few things set aside for me when I visit these days. "Only if you really want them," reluctant to overwhelm me with things I may not want.

I swallow over the lump in my throat and try to ignore the ache in my heart. They are treasures - the things she has lovingly used over the sixty-six years of her marriage. "I want to know they are going to be loved and taken care of," she smiles. "I have to start getting rid of some of these things."

We share a love for the same sort of treasures - those things that carry memories of special times and much loved people. Years ago she gave me a bedspread my Grandmother, her mother, had crocheted. It is delicate and lovely, but even if it had somehow been not quite so I would love it. My Grandmother, the one who died when I was only two, held the thread in her hands and stitch after stitch wove her heart into the pattern.

Last week there were three beautiful table runners. My Aunt Fannie made all three. The Aunt who loved me so well but showed a rather crotchety face to world. 

 From whole cloth she cut a lovely pattern and then stitched around the edges. The lace she crocheted was the final touch. She did beautiful work. I hold it in my hands and remember her smile and the way she laughed when she told me the stories of my childhood.

 These treasures are a daily reminder to me of how simple it is to leave a tangible gift of love to those we cherish. Of course, it isn't really the thing itself. It is knowing the love that prompted the making. When we stitch a quilt, plant a rose bush,  paint a picture, write words from the heart - express our love in a myriad of ways - we are leaving a reminder of how deeply we loved.

Blessings,
Linda

A Legacy

We arrived Tuesday morning to put the booklets together. Our choir would be using them the next evening to rehearse for the big weekend.

 Tommy Walker will be coming to our church in a couple of weeks to record a CD and video with our combined, adult, teen and children's choirs.

 We have been anticipating it for months.

 And so we worked together - punching holes and weaving the rings through the pages - pages filled with words penned long before any of us were alive.

The vision is to bring these hymns to those who have never had the opportunity to hear them and to preserve them for those who will come behind us.

 

So the inspiring words pass through our hands:

"Praise Him, Praise Him, Jesus our blessed Redeemer..."
 Fanny J. Crosby - words
Chester G. Allen - music

"Take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to Thee. 
 Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love..."
 Frances R. Havergal - words
Henri H. C. Malan, Lowell Mason - music

"Abide with me; fast falls the even-tide;
 The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
 When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
 Help of the helpless, O abide with me."
 Henry Francis Lyte- words
William Henry Monk -music

"All hail the pow'r of Jesus' name! 
 Let angels prostrate fall..."
 Edward Perronet, John Rippon - words
Oliver Holden - music

"Crown Him with many crowns,
 the Lamb upon His throne..."
 Matthew Bridges, Godfrey Thring - words
George J. Elvey - music


"Fairest Lord Jesus! Ruler of all nature,
 O Thou of God and man the Son.
 Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor,
 Thou, my soul's glory, joy and crown..."
 anonymous - words
Schlesische Volksliede - music

"O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer's praise,
 The glories of my God and King, the triumphs of His grace..."
 Charles Wesley - words
Carl G. Slaser/ Lowel Mason - music

"Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus,
 Vast unmeasured, boundless, free;
 Rolling as a mighty ocean
 In its fullness over me..."

Samuel Trevor Francis - words
Thomas J. Williams - music

"Rejoice the Lord is King; Your Lord and King adore!
 Rejoice, give thanks and sing and triumph evermore..." 
 Charles Wesley - words
John Darwell - music

"This is my Father's world, And to my list'ning ears,
 All nature sings and round me rings the music of the spheres..."
 Maltbie D. Babcock - words
Franklin L. Shephard

We love our contemporary Christian music. It ministers - speaking to hearts that are needy and lost. These hymns can only add to the blessing. They are our heritage - a precious legacy from those who have gone before us. Many of them were conceived during a time of great suffering - all came to us wrapped in a deep, abiding faith. The words span the gulf of time and speak to us in a powerful way. We are, indeed, blessed.

I am also at Laced With Grace today. Would love to have you stop by!

With love,
Linda

Still and Quiet

"God's voice is still and quiet and easily buried under an avalanche of clamor."
Charles Stanley

 

Quietly linking to Sandy's beautiful blog:

 

 

Blessings,

Linda

The Narrow Path

Today the word at Lisa-Jo's is  PATH

start:

This is the path I'd choose Lord
if I might be so bold
just look at the flowers
and the hills in the distance
and the trees
the trees are lovely.

It's the one all the others are walking
you know the ones Father
they shine bright and do things well
everyone admires them
It seems they walk it effortlessly
I just want to be one of them
walking in the sunshine

You point me to another
the one that seems so narrow
weeds growing down the center
the one hardly anyone else is walking
It is so quiet
and no one sees the journey
But you beckon
and I cannot turn away

There is one up ahead
who has lost her footing
and You urge me on
You take my hand
and join it to hers
together we walk the shadowed path
and the sunshine
streams through the branches
bringing warmth and light.

stop

I'm joining the community gathered here today:




Blessings,
Linda

Wounded and Broken

We passed them on the busy interstate the other morning on our way into town to buy groceries. They were chained onto the trailer of the huge semi, bouncing and jiggling their way to their doom. I wondered, as I looked at the crushed fenders and dented body parts, what their stories were. How had they come to such a desperate state where the only solution was a trip to the junk yard?

We are surrounded by broken, imperfect things. My husband couldn't bear to cut down that little oak. From its earliest days it had been surrounded by cedar trees that pushed and crowded until it couldn't possibly grow straight and true like all the other trees. And so it leans. It has a special place in my heart for the leaning. It is doing its very best.

What of the broken, wounded, "leaning" people in our lives. Not, perhaps, the ones we know and can see beneath the surface to the wonder of them. But the ones we pass as we walk through our days; the ones who slip quietly into a seat at church - noticed only for their difference.

What will happen if we don't look with Jesus' eyes? Would we pile them like so many crumpled cars and haul them off to a place where they don't make us feel uncomfortable? Surely the church is the one place where they can come just as they are and find healing and restoration - and above all love and acceptance.

linking to Emily today




Blessings,
Linda

Dreams

He lived in obscurity for thirty years, this One whose life changed the course of human history. Quietly, He lived his ordinary life in His small village. Faithfully, He carried out the daily responsibilities that were His - never questioning, never hurried, always faithful - growing in wisdom and grace.

Did He hear a gentle whisper in His thirtieth year - "Now it is time to begin Son."? Or did He just know in His heart it was time to lay down the tools of His trade and walk away from the little place He called home? All of those days turned years had prepared Him for this journey. They had purpose, and now it was time to do what He had been born to do.

Our Pastor spoke about this business of living in obscurity - of being faithful when no one is looking. It seems there is longing in every heart for recognition and approval. Perhaps we have dreamed of accomplishing great things and find ourselves trapped in the mundane. It hurts a bit when the thing we dream of doing is with Him in mind. Surely such pure motives are worthy of success.

Here's the thing. All of the ordinary moments - the ones filled with joy or sorrow, failure or success, health or suffering - are the very ones He has ordained for you. Not one of them is wasted. He can use and redeem them all. His dream for your life may be the one you imagined or it may be very  different, but it is good beyond your wildest expectations.

We don't know the moment He will say, "Now." He asks that we remain faithful in the waiting. When it comes, it may be a great and wonderful thing or it may be just a little something - a quiet encounter, a moment of serving, an encouraging conversation, a fervent prayer. It may be seen by everyone or known by no one. We may not even know the magnitude of it until we leave this earthly home and He takes us in His arms.

Be assured that your life is precious to Him. He has great dreams for you. Rest in the knowledge that you matter so much He would have sent His Son to die for you even if you had been the only one.  When the days seem endless, and you long for something more, just know that He holds your moments in His hands and He understands.

Joining:


 Michelle 





Laura


Blessings,
Linda

Still Saturday

"Nature to a saint is sacramental. If we are children of God, we have a tremendous treasure in nature. In every wind that blows, in every night and day of the year, in every sign of the sky, in every blossoming and in every withering of the earth, there is a real coming of God to us if we will simply use our starved imagination to realize it."
Oswald Chambers.

In community with Sandy today:



Blessings dear friends,
Linda

Expectation

Time to write for five minutes - not edited and or gussied up - just poured out. Lisa-Jo has given us the word:

Expectation

start:

I come to Him with my expectations - my list of things I desperately need Him to do. I have thought it through and deem it a reasonable, even wise list. They are, after all. not frivolous "wants." They are things that, apart from Him, will never come to be. They need a miracle.

So I pray - get down on my face and plead. Day after day; week after week. The calendar pages flip and months turn into years. There are days when I turn my back on prayer - hunched shoulders and angry tears.  They never do the trick either, for I find that days without Him quickly turn to ashes.

Almost without my noticing something changes and my heart rests - no longer thumping wildly when I look down the days and months ahead. There is a something - something unexpected and certainly not asked for.

His peace slowly inches up from the depths of a spring deep inside and begins to fill this needy heart. He has not given what I expected. He has given so much more. It seems it is His way.

stop:

Joining the Five Minute Friday community at Lisa-Jo's today.




Blessings,
Linda

My Dad and D-Day

Sixty-eight years ago today, my Dad drove a jeep off a landing craft and into the ocean. The plan was to drive up onto Omaha Beach, but things didn't go according to plan. They weren't able to get close enough to shore and the jeep's engine died as the water closed over its hood.

This twenty-four year old man, who had never been out of his own neighborhood until that fateful year, walked onto the beach and into an unimaginable nightmare. He says they got it just right in the movie "Saving Private Ryan." He was part of the 29th division and saw it all first hand.

He isn't one of the silent ones. He tells us the stories - editing out the parts that must surely haunt his dreams at times - but breathtaking nonetheless. I love the one about the time he went AWOL and spent a few exciting days in Paris. Or the ones where he is demoted to private (again) because he doesn't suffer fools lightly - even if they happen to be wearing officers' stripes. My heart aches when he tells of liberating one of the concentration camps.

He left behind a sweetheart who wrote faithfully every day. She wanted to get married, but he knew the odds and felt it best to wait. Time was suspended as she waited through the years until the day he walked through the door of the office where she was working. Sixty-six years later, they are still the dearest of sweethearts.

These days I watch as the great-grandchildren sit spellbound by the stories I've heard a dozen times or more. They never get old, and he remembers the details as if it were yesterday. He is a hero in our eyes and in the eyes of his country.

Thank you Dad.

Joining Em at imperfect prose:






Blessings,
Linda

Blooming

For the entire six months we lived in the apartment, they didn't bloom - not one single flower. I worried about them. After all, they had been a part of my life for years. I couldn't bear the thought of them pining away.

I hunted for the perfect spot in the rather gloomy apartment. We bought them a special little plant stand and found a place with just the right light.

Nothing.

And then...

almost as if they had come to some sort of mutual agreement, they all began to bloom. After two months of living in our new home, they agree, I believe, that this is a really nice place to be.

We even have a new addition to the family.
Joy!

Blessings,
Linda

Quilts and Me

I love quilts. They say everything my heart believes about home. They are created in the heart and brought to life by loving hands. They are works of art, and they are warm and cozy. They don't have to be perfect (in fact, my Mom has told me that the Amish women deliberately put an imperfection in every quilt they make - their way of saying there is no one perfect except our Jesus) - because they are perfect in the eyes of those privileged to cuddle up underneath one.

I aspire to be a quilter. I even made a sampler quilt a few years ago. It took me forever. I did it all by hand. I sometimes look at it and can't believe I actually did it. Now I am ready to take it up again. This time I will do some of the quilting by machine - a huge leap for me. The sewing machine and I are not friends. I love all sorts of handwork, but for some reason sewing just confounds me. I never can seem to get it right. But my dear friend Mary gave me a used sewing machine, and it seemed time to give it another try.

I took the little nine patch squares my Mom had hand-sewn and didn't have a use for (she's amazing like that), cut out white squares and actually sewed them together....on the sewing machine! There was one moment when I threw the instruction book across the table, but we won't dwell on that.

I did it! You see here my little pieced quilt top. It is far from perfect, but I love it. It is my very favorite sort of quilt - all those colorful little squares. It is just a tiny one, but it will serve well. I will find the perfect place for it, and it will be a sweet little blessing.

Perhaps I am a little bit like my quilt. The Father has made me with an artistic, creative touch unmatched in all the world. He put all the pieces of me together (even the parts no one can see) and was delighted. He had a specific place in mind for me - one where I would fit just right and be a blessing to those He brought into my life. I may not look perfect to those around me, but in His eyes - the one's that see me through the prism of His perfect Son - I am.

And so are you. You, His perfectly designed creation, are precious in His eyes. He loves you and longs to gather you into His great arms of love and use you in ways you cannot imagine. Little ways; big ways; ways that the world will applaud; ways that will never be seen except by a few; ways unique and colorful and warm. You have been created by One who never makes mistakes. You are His gift to the world.

Blessings,
Linda

P.S. I still have to put the quilt top, batting and backing together. I'm off to Mom's tomorrow for a refresher course.

Default

Every once in a while one of those little boxes will pop up on the computer screen asking the age old question: "Would you like to make (whatever the case may be) your default browser?"  Mostly the answer is "No....thanks anyway."

It appears the choice is mine. I get to pick my own default browser.Which leads me to think about the choices I make in my life.

I can choose to make gratitude my default or walk through my days fixated on the negative - complaining about my lot in life and telling God how unfair it all is.

I might decide on pride and cast humility aside in a desperate attempt to know and be known.

There are days when giving seems far too costly and selfishness is the default of choice.

I can choose to try to walk in my own strength, turning my back on the default marked grace.

That forgiveness default can be a tough one to live with when I am nursing a grudge that I hold close to my heart.

What about the life default? Will I click on the one that offers me the world, or will I choose the one that compels me to lose my life that I might gain all He has for me?

The one that I have struggled the most with is the trust default. Once clicked I give everything over to Him - all the questions, all the perceived control, all the fears and worries, all the self-sufficiency.

Perhaps it isn't a difficult choice after all.

Joining my precious friend Laura today:





Blessings,
Linda

Silence

“We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.”
  Mother Teresa


Joining Sandy today:





Blessings dear friends,
Linda