He Sees Us

I confess. I didn't want to go. I don't much like going out in the evening (couldn't be a sign of aging could it?). I especially don't like going out on Sunday evening. We go to church on Saturday, and Sunday has become a day of total relaxation. Besides the Downton Abbey finale was on ... and that is thoroughly ridiculous and wrong, but there you have it.

We went ... because my husband is a man who has his priorities in order, and because I didn't want my stinky attitude to ruin things.

It was a benefit concert with Phillips, Dean and Craig to raise money for organizations in our city who minister to the poorest of the poor (I told you I was being ridiculous!). Our adult choir and teenage choirs each sang a few songs. Then we sang the finale with Phillips, Dean and Craig: "Revelation Song."

You already know what's coming, I'm sure. I am so glad I went. It was so inspiring. Hundreds of voices raised in praise. God's presence filling the huge church sanctuary.

From my vantage point high up in the choir loft, I could look out over the people. In my mind's eye I could see them stretching  to the horizon - an endless sea of faces. I thought of John's vision in Revelation 7:9

"After this I saw a vast crowd, too great to count, from every nation and tribe and people and language standing in front of the throne and before the Lamb. They were clothed in white robes and held palm branches in their hands."

The choir loft is set so far back, I could only see the faces of those in the front rows, but He saw each one. Just as in some future day, when heaven becomes our home, and we stand small in a crowd too huge to number, He will see us. See us just as clearly and intimately as though we were the only one there.

We sang as one: "He loves us. Oh how He loves us. Oh how He loves."* Each of us, whose very hairs are numbered, standing shoulder to shoulder in a crowd. He loves us; He loves you; He loves me - as though we were His only child.

*"He Love Us" John Mark McMillan

Joining my sweet friend Laura today:



Blessings,
Linda

Jesus Paid It All

"I hear the Savior say,
'Thy strength indeed is small,
 Child of weakness, watch and pray,
 Find in Me thine all in all.'

Lord, now indeed I find
Thy pow'r and Thine alone,
Can change the leper's spots
And melt the heart of stone.

For nothing good have I
Whereby Thy grace to claim
I'll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv'ry's Lamb.

And when, before the throne,
I stand in Him complete,
'Jesus died my soul to save,'
My lips shall still repeat .

Jesus paid it all
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow."
Mrs. H.M. Hall



Joining my friends Sandy and Deidra this weekend.  As we walk into this season may our eyes be fixed on the One who poured out His life that we might live.





Blessings,
Linda

Broken

Can you see? The process is beginning - the leaves are not as vibrant as they once were, dark green against an endless blue back-drop. If you look closely, you will spot a few sprinkles of brown scattered through the branches.

It is time. Since last spring they have clung tenaciously through gusting winds, scorching sun, freezing nights and battering storms - the towering oak clinging to them, giving them life. But it is time, and now she will begin a season of letting go. Slowly, inexorably, the color will drain, their grip will loosen, and they will fall to the ground. Just a few at first and finally they will come down in a crinkly shower of brown.

In no time at all new life begins to form in the empty spaces - fresh and green - that indescribable shade of new. Without the dying of the old, there would be no place for the new. They cannot co-exist; they cannot take turns, the old there for a few days changing places with the new every now and then.

I am undergoing this process. It is not an easy one.

I was in the second grade. We moved a few months into the school year, and I was the new kid. Shy and quiet - desperately wanting to be liked. I was all alone in the girls' room when a few of the other girls came in. They didn't know I was there. I heard them talking about "her."  They thought her stuck-up and conceited. She didn't even talk to anyone. They were talking about me.

Their words slammed into my seven year old heart and left a wound that has never quite gone away. I've carried it around with me for nearly sixty years - that heart that yearns for the approval of others. The one that  longs to belong, to be well thought of, to be part of the "in" crowd. In all honesty, it was there long before the words in an elementary school restroom were spoken - a part of my DNA.

It seeped into my relationship with the Lord - this striving to please, to be good enough so that this huge God would look at me and be pleased. In my own skewed estimation, I simply never measured up. And still I clung to the old - to this trying.

Gently, the Father, works in our hearts to make all things new, but there are times when only drastic measures will get the job done. There are times we must be broken, die to the old, so healing can come and something new born.

I have been broken in recent months. There has been rejection; there have been words spoken, cutting right to heart of the matter. The striving to please, the need to be well thought of, the compulsion to prove myself right all began to tremble under the pressure of what is true. I felt it all falling to the ground.

I come broken into this season. Broken but filled with peace. He is making all things new. I come with open hands, releasing the need for the approval of others into the hands of the One whose approval is the only one worth having. He tells me there is nothing I need do to make Him love me more. He loves me.



Jennifer has offered us a place to tell our stories. Please come visit her warm, welcoming blog. She has written a beautiful story and there are others. Maybe you have a story you'd like to share. Your story will be a blessing to others. That's just the way of good stories.

Blessings,
Linda

Glasses

There is something wrong with my eyes. I cannot seem to see clearly. The world has become all blurry and somehow out of kilter. There is no earthly prescription that will set things to right - no glasses to be taken out of a case, polished up and perched on the end of my nose. No.....I know what the problem is. I haven't prayed those words in a long time.

"Lord Jesus, give me Your eyes."

I've been looking at life through the lens of self, and it leaves me with a headache and a sense of despair. It is bad enough, I tell my inner selfish self, when everything seems all wrong with the world in general (a slight exaggeration perhaps?), but when my own life becomes all out of focus it is enough to send me groping into the darkness.Little children dying, the heartbreak of poverty, the horror of human trafficking, the drip, drip, dripping of endless arguments and debate sit like lead in the heart. But it is more than that.

It is, I tell that self, the piling up off all the little things: the computer that has suddenly gone berserk, the woman on the phone who cannot be reasoned with and instead repeats in a mind-numbing monotone the same old nonsense over and over again, the same old daily routine with its all too familiar failings and shortcomings.

I took out those words today and polished them up. I whispered them to that selfish self and to a God who bends down to listen to every word I think or say, and I put them on. Suddenly the world jumped into sharp relief and I saw:

 -a husband, days filled with the pain and suffering that comes from chronic illness , who never complains but instead does all he can to help those around him

- the son of the elderly couple who lives across the street, who has spent days clearing, cutting, mowing - getting their land ready for spring; the same son whose white pickup is parked outside their house every Saturday morning because he has come to take his mother grocery shopping

- women, who have only known each other for a few short weeks, gathered together to pray, to offer comfort, to share hugs and laughter and tears

- a card in the mail from a friend - just to send love and brighten my day

- a church reaching out to the poorest of the poor, opening its doors to "whosoever will," loving people in practical ways, in the name of Jesus.

- strangers walking hospital corridors, reaching out to help those who need a door held or a kind word

- a veteran, a stranger, knocking on the door of my Mom and Dad's little home - coming to thank my Dad for his service

With those words it is possible to look into the eyes of the unlovely and unloved and see the heart that Jesus died to save.

I put on my new glasses every morning. It makes life so much clearer for me. I must learn to put on those words in the same way. They make life so much dearer for me.

Joining my gentle friend Laura today:



Blessings,
Linda

The Mountain

"Follow me one step at a time. That is all I require of you... You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights. Meanwhile, because you're not looking where you're going, you stumble on the easy path where I am leading you now. As I help you get back on your feet, you tell Me how worried you are about the cliffs up ahead. But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow. Our path may take an abrupt turn, leading you away from those mountains. There may be an easier way up the mountains than is visible from this distance. If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb. I will even give My angels charge over you, to preserve you in all your ways."
"Jesus Calling"  Sarah Young

"For we live by believing and not by seeing."
 II Cor. 5:7

Linking to my sweet friend Sandy today:



Blessings,
Linda

P.S. Computer "issues" this week, but I think (I pray) I've solved them with some help from a good friend.

Limitless

 I had plans to write a well thought out post - one in which I lined up all my points in a clear and concise way and ended with an insightful conclusion. However, I decided to make it a bit more real - to allow you a peek into my somewhat convoluted little mind. So..... here goes:

I lay in bed this morning, the covers pulled up under my chin, enjoying those last minutes before stepping out into the day. I thought about what I had recorded on the DVR and wondered if there would be room for other shows if I kept all the "Call the Midwife" episodes....and did I really want to keep them all because when would I really watch them again..... because there is a limit to how many shows the DVR will save and there are some I don't want to lose. Which led me to thinking about how limitless God is. He never runs out of "storage space." He holds all of my prayers and all of my secrets and all of my hopes and dreams - and never says "Sorry. No more room. You'll have to delete some of that stuff." No - there is no limit to His ability to hold everything I place in His hands.

 Then I started thinking about the last episode of Downton Abbey (I know - everyone is alluding to this riveting series - I apologize, but that's was the next stop on this meandering journey.). If you haven't watched last weeks' episode you'll want to take your leave about now. I'm going to reveal stuff.

Okay here we go ..... the last scene was so moving. In it the trusted family doctor told Lord and Lady Grantham there was nothing that would have saved their daughter. "She was going to die." In spite of their great love for her; in spite of their having a renowned doctor at her side; in spite of their great wealth and resources - she would die. Their power to save her was limited.

And I thought of our limitless God. Nothing is too difficult for Him. He is a God of miracles, and He is good. Even when the very worst happens, we have not reached the limit of who He is. Circumstances cannot limit the depth of His love, the hope that triumphs over death, the peace that passes understanding, the grace that covers our lives, the mercy that lifts the burden of sin and shame.

I just wanted to share that because, I'm used to my convoluted mind and all of this helped me step into the day with joy. I thought it might bless you too.

Blessings,
Linda

Dad's Special Day

 "The Legion of Honour was established to recognize extreme merit by French citizens in either military or civilian life. The Award is also authorized to be presented to select foreign nationals who have served France, including some allied combat veterans who fought on French soil.

There is no precise American equivalent for the National Order of the Legion Honour... However, it is the highest decoration for a French citizen, whether military or civilian. Therefore, it shares some characteristics with two U.S. decorations: the Medal of Honor, the highest decoration for  military actions; and the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest decoration for civilian contributions. It has also been compared to the Defense Distinguished Service Medal."

Friday, Feb. 1, 2013, was a long anticipated day. At eight o'clock that morning, two cars pulled out of the driveway to begin the long ride to Ellington Field in Houston. My Dad, along with ten other WWII veterans, was being honored at the French Legion of Honour Ceremony.

It is hard to put into words the emotions of the day. The respect and honor shown to these men and one precious woman (she served as a nurse) was so touching. The individual stories were deeply moving. The outpouring of gratitude was heartfelt. It was a very special day.

 Some of the dignitaries who attended the ceremony.

  Mr. Frederic Bontems - Consul General of France - presenting the medals.

We finally talked him into putting on his cap (Mom was quite persuasive). Here he is giving thanks in return to the young fighting men and women who are serving today.

 After the ceremony the dignitaries came to speak with the veterans. Here is Mr. Bontems. He couldn't have been more gracious. When I asked him for a copy of his speech (because Mom is very hard of hearing and didn't get to hear it), he reached into his briefcase and gave me the original.

Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee.

 A congressman whose name I somehow didn't get (my apologies).

 Major General Jimmie Jaye Wells presenting each of the veterans with a special coin.

 Here is Johanna E. Butt being interviewed. Isn't she just darling? She was as sweet as could be.

 Here we all are - the proud family!

 This sweet little girl just wanted her picture taken with a hero.

 And this picture is just for fun. There was a second ceremony in another room. All of the veterans were seated on the stage - all except for my Dad. He said he felt like a pet monkey sitting up there! Which all goes to explain why although he served with absolute courage and received several medals (which he refused to wear to the ceremony) he was busted from Sargent to Private on three separate occasions.

We love you dearly Dad and are so very proud of you and Mom - who waited faithfully for three long years for the soldier she loved. (They will celebrate their 67th anniversary on Sunday.)

There you have it - Dad's special day.

Blessings,
Linda

P.S.  Please excuse the poor photography. I really do want to learn to take good pictures :)