Weekend Prayer

Dear Friends,

Praying your weekend is hemmed in by the peace of His presence. The peace that comes in knowing that whatever you're doing, wherever you're going, He goes before you and with you. He is holding tightly to your hand.

Blessings,
Linda

12 Things I Learned in August (while walking in the mall)

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with the things I learned in August - however I forgot to take a picture while we were in the mall today. And I really feel I cannot publish a post without a picture. 

It's hard to believe August is already drawing to a close. The best part of that is we get to write about the things we learned over the course of the month.

This time I learned everything while walking in the Mall. My husband's post-op therapy is walking. After his back surgery the instructions were: walk, walk, walk. Since August in our part of the country still means triple digit temperatures, we decided to move our walk inside.

Truthfully it is excruciatingly boring walking the same circular path over and over again. However if you use just a bit of imagination you can learn all sorts of new and interesting things.

Hence: 12 Things I Learned in August (while walking in the Mall).

1  - It is possible for something to smell too sweet - even to this chocoholic. The smell emanating from the name brand ice cream store could put you off ice cream forever.

2  - Working at a kiosk is without a doubt one of the most boring jobs in the universe - especially if you're selling remote control cars.

3  - I had forgotten (how could I forget?) that a toddler can go from smiles to hysterics faster than the speed of light when denied the object of his or her little desire.

4  - There is an actual place where they do something with strings on your face. I'm sure I'm way behind the times on this one, but I have yet to figure out exactly what the strings do. I keep trying to time my walk so I'll be strolling past when one of the infrequent clients comes out, but no luck so far. Have you heard of this?

5  - There is a framed "Code of Conduct" by one of the entrances. From what I've been able to observe no one bothers to read it. Especially the part about modest attire.

6  - There are coin massage chairs strategically placed at either end of this unpretentious mall. They are deeply appreciated by small boys and older men.

7  - According to my studied observation, the vast majority of models are either angry or in pain.

8  - Cell phones are the universal accessory. They are especially essential to bored kiosk clerks and the ladies who work in that string place.

9  - I have been trying my "smile ministry" but it has become increasingly difficult to make eye contact. I'm kind of sad about that, but I keep trying.

10- There are unsung, nearly invisible heroes in the Mall - the gentle folk who empty trash cans, dust floors and pick up after us. Faithfully, day after day.

11 -I've noticed a very strange looking guy sashaying around the mall. I'm pretty sure he's some sort of serial killer. Not to worry. I'm keeping an eye on him. 

12- The most beautiful image of true love is not those picture-perfect models. It is an elderly couple strolling arm in arm.

What did you learn this month? Come on over to Emily's Chatting At The Sky  on Friday and share.

Blessings,
Linda

On Aging

I remember my Mom saying, many years ago, "I look in the mirror and wonder who that old woman is because in my heart I still feel 16." I also remember my snarky, know-it-all self thinking - "Right," sarcasm running right down my wrinkle -free face.

I now have a granddaughter the same age I was when I smirked behind my Mom's back. I have eaten my words over and over again. These days I am the one looking at the stranger in the mirror.  The one whose heart is unaware of the lines and wrinkles, the vein-lined hands and the stiff joints.

It looks, from the other side of middle age, like youth has become something to be worshipped. We are bombarded with ads for everything from creams to surgery with the promise of turning back the hands of time. All well and good, but time is relentless and will ultimately have its way.

The heart, on the other hand, knows the real  secret of eternal youth. It was whispered long ago when the two who lost everything stood clothed in animal skins and shame. A promise of One who would come and bring with Him everlasting life.

I have learned to be gentle with this aging shell. It houses the beauty of eternity and the promise of everything made new.

Blessings,
Linda

Dieting and R Rated Movies

On an ordinary day several years ago I found myself  all alone with a free afternoon to do with as I pleased. I decided it was the perfect time to go see the film I knew my husband wouldn't enjoy. I didn't even take the time to see if any of my friends wanted to go. I just got in the car and took myself to the movies.

It became apparent, as I walked into the dimly lit theater, that not many people shared my enthusiasm for early afternoon showings. Undeterred, I found a choice seat and got ready to lose myself in the story.

It was a good movie, but a few minutes into it I began to feel a tad uncomfortable. Evidently the R rating was for language. I squirmed in my seat as four letter words fell all around me. I looked at the empty seats on either side of me and imagined Jesus sitting in one of them.

The truth is, He lives in me and that means everywhere I go, He comes with me.....whether He wants to or not. Those words weren't just making me uncomfortable, they were assaulting His ears as well. I made Him a promise that day: I would never go to an R rated movie again (or any movie I wouldn't want Him to come see with me).

Let me say here that I am not trying to make this into "doctrine" for everyone. It is one of those things that is between each of us and the Lord. Some of the most devout Christians I know have no problem with this. I understand. For me, it isn't a good idea to put certain words and images into my little mind. Once there, they take up permanent residence, and my over-active imagination calls them up again and again.

I know I promised to give an account of my eating. Bear with me. This all ties together (for me anyway!). 

I have tried my best to keep the promise I made years ago (I confess, I slipped once and watched a DVD of "The King's Speech"). I'm far from perfect. But for the most part, I've done fairly well. There's something about telling the great I Am you will do something. You tend to want to be faithful.

I knew if I made a "promise" to the Lord about eating I would be taking a big step. I avoided it for a long time. In fact, I haven't actually made that promise. But I've done something I did in that movie theater all those years ago. I invited Jesus to sit down beside me every time I eat.

It has dramatically changed my eating habits this week. I imagine myself "looking" across the kitchen table at Him. I feel His presence when I dine out and make choices from the menu. We sit together, and I want to feel comfortable. He isn't a hard task master. A biscotti with tea is fine with Him. In fact, nothing is off limits. It all has to do with self-control.

I'll write more next week. I confess I feel a bit uncomfortable with all of this. I haven't discovered a new diet plan. I certainly don't have all the answers. I simply give you what the Lord has given me.

If you'd like to be part of a conversation about dieting or anything else the Father has placed on your heart - please link in the comments. I'm not sure where all of this is going, but I do know it is always better to have friends along on the journey.

Joining my sweet friends  Laura and Michelle today.



 
 




Blessings,
Linda

Control

“The power to influence or direct people’s behavior or the course of events.” Reduced to its simplest form – it is control.

Put in those terms, we shrink from the idea of desiring such power. Yet the stacks of to-do lists on my kitchen counter, my endless worry over the choices those most precious to me are making, the frantic prayers to change the circumstances I find most frightening all attest to my secret desire to manage everything in my own little world.

The rest of this devotional is posted on Laced With Grace today. Have you struggled with trust and control? Me too. Please join me there.

Blessings,
Linda

Forgotten

She went expectantly, imagining the conversations, thinking about what she would say. A couple of weeks had passed since her world had shifted, and they had rallied round with calls and promises to pray. So many had already asked how things were going. Surely they, too, would be concerned.

She walked into the room, her expectations filling her heart. Conversation and laughter bounced off the walls - friends greeting one another, sharing the latest news. She found her place among her closest friends, their words drawing her close like a warm embrace. 

But there were others who greeted her without a word about what was uppermost in her heart. Their immediate concern had been a precious gift, but it seemed they had forgotten. She told herself it was understandable. They had their own problems, and it was such a busy time of year. But still, the little arrows went straight to her heart.

She talked to Him about it in the early morning hours, when sleep wouldn't come. He whispered into her aching heart:

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me."
Isaiah 49: 15-16

We have all, at one time or another, been disappointed by someone we thought would never forget us.  More often than not, it isn't intentional. We mean to do well, but life pushes in and we are prone to forgetfulness.

There is One who never forgets. We can rest in the knowledge that He will never disappoint, never break a promise, never look the other way.

If you've been hurt by others, I pray you will find comfort in the One who has engraved you on the palms of His hands. He knows and understands. And oh, how He loves you.

Blessings,
Linda

Weight and Other Stuff

Just a few more words about dieting, and then I think I'll quietly go about the business of eating less. I would love it if we could connect every now and then and share the struggles and triumphs. It always helps to have company on the journey.

I'm not sure what the underlying cause of my overeating is. I sometimes think it is the one thing I feel I can indulge in with impunity. This "good girl" has always tried desperately to do what pleases everyone else, but in this area - I can do as I please without hurting another soul (except me, of course).

I know it isn't pleasing to the Lord when anything is out of balance in my life, yet I somehow grab onto grace with all my might, asking for forgiveness and promising to do better - tomorrow, or next Monday, or the first of next month. I have managed to convince myself it isn't a really "big" sin, knowing all the while sin is sin. It isn't measured in degrees.

I'd heard other people say they pray about what they will eat. It sounded like an excellent idea, but I've avoided implementing it knowing once I took that step there really was no more room for my usual list of excuses or good intentions.

When I read that verse(,I Cor. 10:31) I felt a bit as though the Father sat me down and said it was time to deal with this. There, in plain English, was His thought on the matter. Ignoring it was no longer an option.

I hesitantly put one toe over the line, and I knew there was no turning back. I don't mean to say I will never eat another piece of chocolate or have a day when I fall back into old habits. I mean to say I want to walk in obedience to what I believe the Father has asked of me. That's serious business.

He asks it because it's what is best for a whole host of reasons, not the least of which is my health. I find if I talk things over with Him first, I can't comfortably drag out the bag of chips at ten o'clock at night just because I feel like something salty (not because I'm the least bit hungry).

I'll be delighted to lose weight, but I think there is something much more life-changing at stake here. It's time.

Can't have a post without pictures! Isn't this gorgeous? I stepped out onto the front porch last evening and there it was. Glorious!

I'm going to report on myself next Monday. If you'd like to join me, I'm putting out the welcome mat.  Perhaps it isn't food you struggle with. Anything that feels as though it is out of balance in your life will do. We can encourage and pray for one another.

Blessings,
Linda

Weighty Matters

As an infant I caused my poor mother endless hours of worry. She thought I would surely die from lack of nourishment. It seems I wasn't big on eating or even drinking a bottle for that matter.

This phenomenon continued well into my childhood. I have vivid memories of sitting face to face, at the kitchen table, with a dish of rapidly cooling food (mostly vegetables). I was the lone occupant, everyone else having finished and gone on to do the things I wished I was doing. The dreaded "You will sit there until you eat everything on your plate," hung in the air. I swung my skinny legs back and forth and pushed the veggies around in a vain attempt to make it look as though I had eaten most of it.

About the time I hit my late teens there was a seismic shift in my attitude. I looked back in wonder at the little girl who couldn't abide peanut butter and thought cheese was a bad word. Fortunately, my activity level and metabolism rate remained high thus compensating for the increase in food consumption.

However, all good things must come to an end, and as I edged into my thirties I made the startling discovery that it's really easy to put on weight....and not so easy to take it off. Suddenly the word "diet" became a part of my vocabulary.

Over the next couple of decades I lost and found twenty-five - ish pounds over and over again. By carefully calculating my daily caloric intake, I would lose the weight and even maintain it for a reasonable amount of time. But counting calories can get really old, and before long the weight would magically reappear.

It is a cycle that is emblematic of most things in my life - a tendency to swing wildly from one extreme to the other. The battle for balance is one I fight daily.

Today I read this verse:

"Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God."
 I Cor. 10:31

Well that sort of puts things in perspective.

Our Pastor has a way of taking complicated spiritual issues and making them easy to understand. Concerning living the Christian life he says, "Read the Bible and do what it says." Simple.

I am tired of the wild ride. I want to make a permanent change. I think this just might do it. I need to lose about ten pounds.  You may hold me accountable.  I am sure there will be "those" days. That's okay. The One who gave the instructions also offers grace - without condemnation.

Anyone else with me? Anyone else think a simple choice to "eat or drink to the glory of God " might be a good diet plan? Perhaps we can cheer each other on.

Blessings,
Linda

You Are Mine

I pray there are moments this weekend when, no matter what is swirling in and around you, you will hear Him whisper:

"Remember that nothing can separate you from My loving Presence; you are mine."
"Jesus Calling"  - Sarah Young

Have a blessed weekend dear friends,
Linda

Linking to Sandy's Still Saturday

Five Minute Friday - Small

start:
A little boy and his snowman - my first-born. Love looked at him and held his small frame close. He would soon be a big brother, and I couldn't quite imagine it.

Memory plays tricks on us sometimes. I hadn't remembered the fragility of a newborn - the little curled fingers with the translucent nails - the tiny arms and legs. We brought him home to his brother who seemed to have grown in the short time I was away. Where had those sturdy legs come from? And when did he grow so tall?

It is, I suppose, a matter of perspective; all in the way we look at things.

Do you, like me, have a tendency to look at others and see how big they are? They are great writers, mothers, singers, career women, you name it, and I am so small in comparison. They have great numbers, terrific kids, amazing voices, name recognition, and I am unnoticed.

Perhaps we are looking with the wrong eyes. If we could see through His eyes, we would see what He sees. He has said the small would be great in His kingdom, and still we struggle to see anything of value. He says it isn't about numbers or fame or power or any of the things we tend to focus on. He says it's what we do for Him, in love, that counts.He says He can take our little and turn it into the miraculous.

There was a man named John who said He must increase and I must decrease. Jesus said there was no one greater than John. See yourself as He sees you. Give him your small and let Him make of it something grand. If you touch just one life in His name, you have done much.

stop

Joining Lisa-Jo for Five Minute Friday - the word is small.



Blessings,
Linda

Imagined Stories

I pass the bank, check the time and begin the circuit for the fourth time. Triple digit temperatures have driven us indoors. The heat seeps into the early morning hours and doesn't begin to recede until the stars come out. So although I really don't like walking in the mall, it seems the better part of wisdom for now.

I pass the same stores with the same displays over and over again. It is dizzying....and boring. I do love watching people, however, and there are just enough of them around this not so popular mall to satisfy my imagination. For I don't just like watching people; I like to write their stories in my mind.

For instance, there is the elderly man who has been working on painting a display wall for days. He is slow and methodical. I imagine he is long past retirement age, but some financial misfortune has forced him to take this back-breaking job. He never smiles or makes eye contact, although he did acknowledge my husband's greeting once. I think he is sad and a bit lonely. He probably goes home to an empty house.

The young guy at the hobby kiosk looks bored to death. He plays with a remote control car and keeps his head down. I wonder how he ended up with this job. Maybe he takes college classes in the evening. On one of our circuits I notice him sneaking little looks at the pretty young girl working in the hair kiosk. I wonder if he's thinking about asking her to have lunch with him. I hope she says yes. He looks nice. Oh, but what if she already has a boyfriend? He'll be so disappointed.

I've seen him twice now. If anyone could be described as "a long drink of water" it would be him. He must be at least 6' 5" and thin as a rail. His wide-brimmed cowboy hat is pulled way down over his eyes and he carries a soft drink in his hands. Is he looking for companionship? I once saw him try to start a conversation with a girl on the escalator.  I though at first he knew her, but I saw her on the next turn around the mall, and she was alone - talking on her cell phone. I imagined she was telling a friend about the weird guy who tried to pick her up (you never know).

For some reason I felt like crying when I saw her. She walked with purpose, eyes straight ahead, high heels clicking on the tile floor. Her shorts were barely there and the top far too revealing. I didn't like to imagine her story. I don't think it was happy.

This imagining people's stories is something I do all the time. I have to laugh at myself, though, because I'm sure my stories bear very little resemblance to the truth. In fact, on the rare occasion I somehow learn the true story it is a far cry from my imagined one.

I think there is a part of us that wants our stories to be known - at least in part. There is no joy in feeling anonymous and alone - as though no one cares where it begins or ends.. I think of that as I watch them go by - anonymous to me but never to Him.

The Father knows every story - sees every heart, hears every thought. Every face I see in the cars that whiz past me is familiar to Him. Every, single, solitary person is known. You are known. You are loved.

Joining Jennifer with other story-tellers:

 

Blessings,
Linda

Reflections on 7 Years of Blogging

It has been a little over seven years since, with trembling hands, I wrote my first blog post. It began with a dream to use writing as ministry. A rather lofty dream for one with limited ability, but I pursued it with an open heart - trying always to be honest and transparent (with a dollop of self -editing thrown in for good measure).

I had no idea of stats and comments and building platforms, but it wasn't long before they edged their way into my consciousness. Suddenly the dream became less straight-forward as the people-pleasing part of my personality elbowed her way in. The battle was on - the one where open and honest kept one eye on the numbers while trying desperately to focus on balance. It's been an on-going war swinging wildly from one extreme to the other. One day deciding to delete the whole blog, the next trying desperately to be part of the "group" I so admired and wanted to emulate and still others finding a semblance of balance. It is rather tiring.

I came to end of myself and stood with open hands - willing to let go of those things I was struggling so hard to control. It was during this time that life delivered one of those gut wrenching blows - the ones we somehow know are inevitable but never see coming. They have a way of shaking things up, dumping them out and rearranging the whole mess.

There is no self-editing in this post I'm afraid - just my heart sticking her head bravely out there. I thought, at first, I would quietly slip away. But I have heard the Father whisper over and over again - write. My dear friend once told me (when I sat across from her and told her I couldn't for the life of me figure out what my gift was) I had the gift of encouragement. Over time it resonated. It is humbling to be given a gift - any gift at all - but one from the Father - ah that is something to be treasured .....and given away.

During this difficult time, I have looked carefully at the blessing of blogging and the disappointments it can bring. Somehow there is no sting in it any more- not even for this overly sensitive "good girl." (Emily Freeman has me pegged.).  

 On this belated bloggiversary, I want to put away the temporal longings and reach for the eternal. I want to look back seven years and find the heart that longed only for His approval. I want to use the gift. 

Blessings,
Linda

Lonely/Lovely

This Friday the word is Lonely:

start:
Lisa-Jo's email popped into my inbox. I glanced quickly at the word, clicked over to her blog and never realized that in my haste I read the word incorrectly. I saw "lovely."  The word is "lonely."

Somehow I can't transition from lovely to lonely. The chorus from my childhood has been running through my mind:

"Altogether lovely. He is altogether lovely
 And the fairest of ten thousand
 This wonderful Friend divine.

 He gave His life to safe me
 Now He lives in heav'n to keep me
 He is altogether lovely,
 Is this wonderful Savior of mine."

Wendell P. Loveless

I thought of how those words of that simple song have forever changed my perception of lovely. It isn't the beautiful images on a screen or in magazines that come to mind. It is everything set against the backdrop of who He is.

Perhaps there is some connection to lonely after all. He can fill in the empty spaces of our lives with His presence, bringing peace and comfort when all the world seems dark. He is a friend who never leaves us - not even when we are tiresome or quite unlovely. His promises bring hope to those who have lost everything.

He is altogether lovely - in times of great joy and in times when we feel so very alone.

stop

Joining the Five Minute Friday community at Lisa-Jo's (By the way, her post is absolutely lovely!)



Blessings dear friends,
Linda

From Glory to Glory

I walk clutching the ringed index cards in sweaty hands. The ink is beginning to fade and the edges are curling a bit as I repeat the verses over and over. Slowly, over time, they work their way from my head to my heart. They nestle down in that place - that hidden place - reserved for His words alone.

I struggle some days, trying to mine the deep riches the Spirit has deposited through the writings of  the apostle Paul. Every word a precious nugget. Yesterday it was:

Romans 8: 16-17 "The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then joint heirs - heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him."

I walk. The wind whispers through the leaves of the ancient oaks. That funny peacock crosses the road right in front of me. And the words linger - caught somewhere between heaven and earth: "...in order that we may also be glorified with Him."

It is an inheritance of immeasurable wealth: One day we, I, will be like Him. The One who lived and loved perfectly. The One who was and is and ever shall be. Like Him....glorified.

I think back over the past few weeks - picturing the ones who touched my life in that brief span of time. Surely there was a glimpse of glory in those faces:

 - my husband who walked through months of debilitating pain without bitterness or complaint and his deep   gratitude for healing          
- a precious son who walked through difficult days with us
- a dear friend who sat with me during Steve's surgery, bought my lunch, handed me a gift bag filled with
   everything I might want or need, who prayed with me
- the friends who wept with us in our sorrow
 - the ones who put physical arms around us and prayed
- others who sent messages of comfort and told us they were praying - some of whom I've never met
- my family - drawing close and loving so well
- my darling daughter who, through tears of overwhelming sorrow, gave thanks for all the blessings

We live within the confines of our humanity, sometimes gloriously and at others falling far short. But He is doing a work in His children - little by little, day by day, from glory to glory. If you look carefully, you will catch a glimpse.

"But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."
II Corinthians 3:18

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday - Story

Joining Lisa-Jo for Five Minute Friday:  Story

start:

"You saw me before I was born.
    Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
    before a single day had passed."
 Psalm 139:16

 The days fold one over another, like pages in a well loved book. We begin the days slowly, my husband working his way back to health. He marvels at the miracle of God's ways - a body renewed and restored from such sickness and pain. 
Tears of gratitude run down his cheeks.
They mingle with the tears of loss and deep sorrow for a much loved child's suffering.

The morning flows into sunlit afternoons, and I wait for the phone call. Our voices travel across the ocean and thousands of miles that separate us, and we hold each other close with our words. There are tears and sometimes laughter, shared memories and unanswered questions. The minutes slip by and we try to hold back the good-bye.
Evening comes and with it a quiet resting - while the mind and heart, with a will of their own, tumble over one another. Softly the Father comes to remind me of the things I've always known. And her words, the one spoken through tears over that long distance, echo in my heart.

"We must remember, Mom, this was Nicolas' story - written before he was even born." 

I remember: yes - written with love and and a purpose that goes beyond our understanding.

And our stories...they too were written by His hand - every word. In the midst of our sorrow we remember:

"How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
    They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them;
    they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
    you are still with me!"
Psalm 139: 17,18

And we rest in such love.
                                                                                                                                stop

linking to Lisa-Jo:



Blessings,
Linda