Security

A few weeks ago one of our neighbors was robbed. Someone broke into their home, the place where they felt safe and secure, and stole some precious things. Suddenly nothing in our peaceful, quiet neighborhood was as it had been. Our sense of security was shaken. Ironically, gates were locked, doors shut tight and alarm systems armed - the very things we had put our trust in and the very things that failed to keep one of us safe.

I had been thinking about security and what it means when the unthinkable happened in an elementary school classroom. All the right security measures were in place, and they failed.

It is, I think, the nature of the world we live in. The things we put our trust in prove to be so inadequate. Inadequate to protect and inadequate to satisfy. There is only one who meets every need. He came into this fragile world and turned it all upside-down. It is in our vulnerability we find safety. It is in our weakness we find strength. It is in Him, and Him alone, we find the security we long for.

He came and nothing has ever been the same. He gathers us into arms that once stretched the length of a wooden cross-beam and holds us, and all that is most dear to us, in perfect safety. Evil may do its worst, but it cannot take away the security we have in Him. He is eternal life and hope and peace.

Blessings,
Linda

The little Santa is a Christmas decoration from my childhood. He is old and faded, but somehow he is quite lovely.

What Became of the Shepherds?

"That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord's glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. 'Don't be afraid!' he said. 'I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior - yes, the Messiah, the Lord - has been born today in Bethlehem, the City of David. And you will recognize Him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.'
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others - the armies of heaven - praising God and saying,
'Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.'
When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, 'Let's go to Bethlehem! Let's see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.'
They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joesph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing Him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. All who heard the shepherd's story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them."
Luke 2: 8-20

There the story of the shepherds ends. What a story it is. Heaven itself opened up to these humble men and the glory of the Lord surrounded them. Surely their lives could never be the same.

I have thought about them - about what happened in the days following those miraculous encounters. The scriptures tell us they went back to their flocks, back to their ordinary lives. Did they wonder what would happen next? As the days slipped into weeks and eventually into years, and the images of that long ago night began to fade, did they begin to have nagging little questions and perhaps a bit of doubt? During the long lonely nights on the very same hillside, did their gaze shift heavenward hoping for a further sign? Did they long to hear news of the baby and His parents? Were they discouraged when it looked as though He had simply vanished?

Thirty years later, did word reach them about the young carpenter from Nazareth who said He was the Messiah? Did they hear of the miracles and did their hearts race at the news? Were they waiting expectantly for the Promised One to take His rightful place? Did their hearts break when news of His crucifixion reached their little town?

I wonder (I hope)if the news of His resurrection somehow reached them. If it did, did the vision of that long ago night burst into their hearts once again? Did they see, in their mind's eye, that little baby now become their Savior? Did they rejoice once again knowing the long wait was over; the promise was fulfilled? Fulfilled in a way they could not possibly have foreseen. How could they have known that the little baby they saw that long ago night would one day live in their hearts? It was even more glorious than they had imagined.

What does this story of the shepherds have for us? What would they like us to know and understand? Perhaps it is this:

Have you ever had a glorious word from the Lord, a promise that He spoke to your heart? Perhaps the promise of something you had prayed for with great urgency or a dream He birthed in your heart. Not only did you have that word, but it was confirmed in ways that could only be from Him. You believed and waited for the promise to take form.

Days slipped into weeks, weeks into years, and you began to doubt that you heard correctly. Discouragement filled your heart, and you thought the promise would never materialize. But remember...

The shepherds didn't know what had become of the baby. They didn't know that "...the child grew up healthy and strong. He was filled with wisdom, and God's favor was on Him." (Luke 2: 40) While they waited, the promise was taking form. While they wondered when He would appear again, He was working at a carpenter's bench. When they grew discouraged, He stepped onto the stage and began the work His Father has sent Him to do.

While we wait, the Father is working. In His way and in His time, He will do what He has promised.

"Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep His promise."

Hebrews 10:23

Blessings,

Linda

This one is from the archives.

The Light

The Light shone through the darkness
 Radiance in the form of tiny babe.
And darkness, cowering in the corners,
Tried its best to extinguish the Light,
Heart-rending cries of mothers
split the darkness;
Mourning the loss of innocence,
While the tiny spark lived on.

Darkness has its day,
Slithering out of corners,
Ever seeking to overtake,
But the Light shines still.
Darkness cowers in the radiance,
And our hearts find hope .

Thinking About Mary

Christmas is coming quietly for me this year. As a family, we've all agreed to cut back on the giving of presents - just children this year. So there is less shopping. We haven't cut back on our activities, yet everything seems to be moving at a slower pace. It has given me time to savor this Advent Season; to let my heart wait in silence.

I was thinking about Mary today. What was on her heart and mind all those hundreds of years ago as she awaited the birth of her first child? Scripture tells us she "treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart." I find that so compelling. I wonder how I would have behaved after hearing the news the angel delivered to her one ordinary day. Suddenly life changed forever for her, and her response was simple obedience - and trust.

When I have been given overwhelming news, I'm afraid my reaction has not been like Mary's. I want immediate answers. I want to know what is going to happen, when it's going to happen and above all - why. Mary wasn't given very much information. She had to wait - through the hurt and disillusionment of the one she loved, the questioning looks of friends and neighbors, the long, difficult journey to Bethlehem. She did it quietly, obediently - never doubting that the Father would keep His promises.

This Christmas I want my heart to be as much like Mary's as the Lord can make it. There are some things - things that mean more to me than my own life that I am waiting for. I want to do it with a faith that doesn't falter and doubt. I want to do it quietly, trusting that the Father will do all that He has promised He will do.

I had a dear Pastor who once said, "It was not an indication of Mary's worthiness, but rather an indication that God's grace would be unique in her life." Surely I am not worthy, but God's grace is sufficient. Sufficient to give me faith to walk obediently and to trust in Him. My part is to receive that grace with an open heart. Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.

Joining the writing community at my sweet friend Jennifer's blog today:

 

Blessings,
Linda

a repost from the archives

Worshiping

I grew up attending a small church. It was very different from the church we attend now. You could probably fit the whole church in our choir loft - with room to spare. I gave my heart to Jesus in that little church (any number of times, being the kind of little girl who wanted to be very sure). It was during those years that a firm faith foundation was laid. I am forever grateful for the truths that were planted in a tender heart.

However, it was a very traditional church. We didn't do things like clap or raise our hands - absolutely not. Ours was a quiet, staid congregation - at least during service (and truly, there is nothing wrong with that). So it came as quite a shock to me the first time we stood for worship in an interdenominational church and the people around me tilted their heads heaven-ward, closed their eyes and raised their hands. In all honesty my thoughts went something like this: "Are their lives so perfect they can stand before God and everyone and worship in that way? Because, really, unless you are totally right before God you couldn't do that." My legalistic little mind couldn't imagine such a thing. But there was something there I knew I'd been searching for.

We began to attend regularly, and I learned something about worship. It isn't about me. Imagine that! It's all about Him - and He is more than worthy. Before long, I found it impossible to stand with my hands at my sides. I had a deep longing to reach out to Him and tell Him how amazing and wonderful I thought He was.

For the past few years, my husband and I have been singing in the choir. I can't begin to describe the absolute blessing it is to be a part of this group of worshipers. Some weekends the choir loft is pretty crowded, and we stand shoulder to shoulder . We begin to sing words of praise -  arms bump and hands get tangled up - and I imagine the Father looking with love-filled eyes at His children worshiping together.

What could be more beautiful than that?

Joining Emily for tuesdays unwrapped.

Blessings,
Linda

Laying It At His Feet

 

He comes with gentle words, spoken by those I dearly love, knowing my need of encouragement.
He comes with infinite patience, never reminding me of the infinite number of times we've walked this path.
He comes with love, ever mindful of my neediness.
He comes with grace, knowing my weakness.
He comes with wisdom, knowing how prone I am to foolishness.
He comes with hope, for making all things new.

In this season of giving gifts, He places in our hands the gift of gifts. The gift itself, wrapped in the body of a tiny infant, contains every good and perfect gift. They flow from Him to each of us - every one unique, every one of infinite value. No one, not one single one, is left standing with empty hands.

Perhaps we look down at the gift and wonder at its smallness. He waits, knowing He can make something grand of it - if we will offer it back to Him. For grandness takes on new meaning in His kingdom. It is not measured in numbers or comparisons. It is measured in love and gratitude and obedience.

The words of a song keep echoing in my heart:

"Such a tiny offering compared to Calvary, nevertheless we lay it at Your feet."
 MercyMe - "God With Us"

I come here with my tiny offering and lay it at His feet.

Thank you for your kind words of encouragement dear friends.



Blessings,
Linda

Pondering

I have been "pondering" for days and days. I could say all this pondering has resulted in my deciding to take another break from the blog. It hasn't. What is has resulted in is....confusion (my habitual state of affairs). 

I am weary and discouraged. I have begun to think I have missed it once again. I seem to be forever answering a "call" that isn't there. I am well into my sixth decade of life and still wondering if I somehow managed to slip through with a missing part. You know....the one that tells you what you were meant to do.

I have always tried to be honest here. Now I need to be honest with myself. Writing may not be what I am meant to do. I've set the book aside, wondering how I ever imagined it was something I should do. I may set it all aside, the blog, the FB, the writing.....  perhaps it's time to go back to my books and knitting needles.

In the meantime, I send you all wishes for the most joyous Christmas ever.

With much love,
Linda