What was I so worried about? My daughter, Amy, thought as she viewed the peaceful scene before her. She had had misgivings about her husband taking their three children on a tubing float trip down the river, but this looked idyllic. The placid river, the overhanging tree branches and the sun-dappled water were a perfect backdrop for their adventure. Their voices carried clearly over the water and were full of excitement and happy clamor as she waved to the group, which included her brother-in-law and his two children.
Amy headed back to the house to spend the afternoon with her sister-in-law visiting and cooking. She put ribs in to smoke, started a potato salad and made a peach cobbler. The tubers were bound to be hungry when they got back. This was a four-hour trip, so they should be home about seven. Sixteen-year-old Reid, a newly certified life guard, carried the only cell phone in the group, and they promised to stay in touch.
An hour or so later, he called to say they were having fun, except that the water was so calm they were not moving very swiftly. At home, the afternoon passed slowly, even with the distraction of entertaining a little niece who was too young to go along. Amy became concerned later, though, when there was no answer to repeated calls to check on her family. She decided to drive down to the little store which had recently become outfitters in canoe and tube rentals.
The manager became alarmed. “Why, that was a seven-hour trip!” he exclaimed as he checked their itinerary. That would put them in past sunset, which would be dangerous on the dark river. “They didn’t ask any questions, I assumed they knew that!” he said worriedly. It turned out they had talked to someone inside the store, but her husband, Shannon, an ex-police officer, had seemed confident, so there were no further instructions given. Actually, as a relative newcomer to the area, he was not that familiar with the river and it was his first float trip there.
Panicky by this time, the two women began to search up and down the river at points where it was visible to try to catch a glimpse of their family or talk to other floaters. Some said they had seen the group with several children about two hours away. With a sinking feeling, Amy knew they couldn’t make it by nightfall. Clambering through bushes for a better view, they came upon some kind of turbine and heard what they thought were strange rumblings from it. “They are starting to generate the river,” announced a bystander ominously. Oh, no! my daughter thought. That means the water would rise and become rough and roiling. “Some people drowned when they did that last year,” the person went on.
Rushing back to the outfitter, Amy clamored for assistance. She was assured that they were not “generating” the river, but when she heard the concerned proprietor making a search and rescue call for missing tubers, she was even more alarmed. Praying frantically, she beseeched God for mercies. She knew that, in their haste, the group had taken no water, sunscreen, or anything else.
After what seemed like forever and when she could stand it no longer, the phone rang. “Mom, we made it back,” Reid said. “I lost my cell phone, so I couldn’t call. I borrowed this one when we were picked up.” As relief flooded over her and tears of gratitude flooded her eyes, Amy thanked God for the safe return of her family. She shuddered with horror as she viewed the pitch-black river a little later and realized what could have happened. Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she herded them all home where they ate ravenously, all talking at once of their ordeal.
There had been hardly enough current in the river to keep them moving, so they’d had to improvise by paddling and swimming, tying some of the tubes together for safety and towing the younger ones. Urged on by their concern and the rapidly approaching night, they drew on all their strength and barely beat the darkness. Exhausted, but able to laugh at their fears now, and grateful to collapse in the security of home, they realized they’d had a miracle. Stronger arms than theirs had carried them to safety.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Leap of Faith
I called our son, Greg, the day before yesterday to see how their trip to San Antonio was going. His jocular laugh filled my ear as he said, “We’re walking around in Italy, Texas, taking a break and not in any particular hurry!”
“Italy, Texas!” I said. “That’s where we were stuck for about 45 minutes in a traffic jam last week!” We had been coming back from Houston to stop at our son, Trevor’s, house near Waxahachie; and now, 18 miles from there, we had come to a halt. We were to be there for supper and were already an hour behind, and now this!
Nothing is so frustrating as being slowed down or held up in your progress, whether on a trip or in life. I was just thinking about the comparison this morning, when after church and lunch out, Howard suggested we watch a video of a person of an eastern religion coming to Christ. The young woman in the video started out by saying life is like a trip, with many bumps and delays along the way.
She was prompted to say this while on a train in an Asian country that had unexpectedly stopped, and she was trying to console a frustrated fellow passenger. Then, as she looked out the window at a field, she realized in amazement that this was a familiar place. The long interruption of travel provided opportunity for conversation between the two women.
“I grew up here!” she told her new acquaintance. The scene flashed back to her as a child flying a kite in the field with her father. Suddenly her father had groped his chest and crumpled on the ground in front of the terrified child. He died of a heart attack, plunging the family into a time of uncertainty and confusion, complicated by the revelation of her father’s infidelity in her parents’ marriage.
The 12-year-old had become bitter and full of unforgiveness, even giving up on her religion and principles. After wayward living and during a religious holiday, she decided to earnestly seek God and His will for her. As she pleaded in prayer to know God, a light appeared to her and a figure that she somehow knew was Jesus told her to follow Him. This changed her life, but she was forced to leave home and be on her own at age 16.
In telling the story of her journey and the many rough places accompanied by God’s faithfulness, she realized she could at last forgive her father. “So there is a happy ending?” her seatmate asked.
“That is up to you,” the young woman replied, with the unspoken, but understood, invitation for the older woman to follow Christ.
We are not promised an easy road in our Christian experience, and there will be bumps and delays impeding our progress in our walk with Him. But it is inspiring to hear of others who are faithful despite almost insurmountable odds. Jesus is still extending salvation to “whosoever will.”
“Italy, Texas!” I said. “That’s where we were stuck for about 45 minutes in a traffic jam last week!” We had been coming back from Houston to stop at our son, Trevor’s, house near Waxahachie; and now, 18 miles from there, we had come to a halt. We were to be there for supper and were already an hour behind, and now this!
Nothing is so frustrating as being slowed down or held up in your progress, whether on a trip or in life. I was just thinking about the comparison this morning, when after church and lunch out, Howard suggested we watch a video of a person of an eastern religion coming to Christ. The young woman in the video started out by saying life is like a trip, with many bumps and delays along the way.
She was prompted to say this while on a train in an Asian country that had unexpectedly stopped, and she was trying to console a frustrated fellow passenger. Then, as she looked out the window at a field, she realized in amazement that this was a familiar place. The long interruption of travel provided opportunity for conversation between the two women.
“I grew up here!” she told her new acquaintance. The scene flashed back to her as a child flying a kite in the field with her father. Suddenly her father had groped his chest and crumpled on the ground in front of the terrified child. He died of a heart attack, plunging the family into a time of uncertainty and confusion, complicated by the revelation of her father’s infidelity in her parents’ marriage.
The 12-year-old had become bitter and full of unforgiveness, even giving up on her religion and principles. After wayward living and during a religious holiday, she decided to earnestly seek God and His will for her. As she pleaded in prayer to know God, a light appeared to her and a figure that she somehow knew was Jesus told her to follow Him. This changed her life, but she was forced to leave home and be on her own at age 16.
In telling the story of her journey and the many rough places accompanied by God’s faithfulness, she realized she could at last forgive her father. “So there is a happy ending?” her seatmate asked.
“That is up to you,” the young woman replied, with the unspoken, but understood, invitation for the older woman to follow Christ.
We are not promised an easy road in our Christian experience, and there will be bumps and delays impeding our progress in our walk with Him. But it is inspiring to hear of others who are faithful despite almost insurmountable odds. Jesus is still extending salvation to “whosoever will.”
Saturday, May 28, 2011
A Charge to Keep
“Do you have any seersucker trousers?” Howard asked the sales girl. We were shopping some of the Memorial Day sales and he wanted some of the cool, striped cotton pants so popular in the south. The suits are a summer uniform for urban professionals, especially in New Orleans where we used to live.
“Is that a brand?” she asked, clueless. When I described them to her, she said she didn’t think so, but we’d better ask someone who had been there longer.
So many things seem to be known only to those of us who’ve been here longer. Take the Thanksgiving I asked a grocery stocker if he could tell me where the mincemeat was. Howard had requested his favorite pie for dessert to top off our feast. “I’ll go look in the meat department,” the young man said after scratching his head quizzically. Later I found a jar with the pie filling. The mixture of fruit and spices may have originally contained meat, but I think they use vegetable shortening now for the smidgen of fat.
The other day we were driving through southern Oklahoma on our way to Texas, and I saw the sign for Gene Autry, Oklahoma, a small community near Ardmore. I asked our granddaughter, Allison, who was traveling with us, if she knew who Gene Autry was. She didn’t. Well, she’s only 19, and probably has never heard the famous cowboy’s ballads or never saw him in the movies. He lived briefly in that area the year I was born, so the community of Berwyn was renamed for him.
I remember once mentioning Jackie Kennedy to one of my then teen-age daughters, and she had never heard of her. Kids live in such a world of their own, one in which I’m not too familiar, either. My 13-year-old granddaughter put a new picture on her face book, and I thought it was another boyfriend. She told me the name, and later I started recognizing it from people’s comments about American Idol. Apparently, he won, but I never watch the show. (Because I don’t like the name, “Idol,” which shows how old-fashioned I am!)
In the same way, there are always those in the younger generation who have not heard of the story of salvation. Young people are a mission field. David said in Psalm 71:17-18, “O God, thou has taught me from my youth: and hitherto have I declared thy wondrous works. Now also when I am old and gray-headed, O God, forsake me not; until I have showed thy strength unto this generation, and thy power to every one that is to come.” A worthy prayer for every Christian.
“Is that a brand?” she asked, clueless. When I described them to her, she said she didn’t think so, but we’d better ask someone who had been there longer.
So many things seem to be known only to those of us who’ve been here longer. Take the Thanksgiving I asked a grocery stocker if he could tell me where the mincemeat was. Howard had requested his favorite pie for dessert to top off our feast. “I’ll go look in the meat department,” the young man said after scratching his head quizzically. Later I found a jar with the pie filling. The mixture of fruit and spices may have originally contained meat, but I think they use vegetable shortening now for the smidgen of fat.
The other day we were driving through southern Oklahoma on our way to Texas, and I saw the sign for Gene Autry, Oklahoma, a small community near Ardmore. I asked our granddaughter, Allison, who was traveling with us, if she knew who Gene Autry was. She didn’t. Well, she’s only 19, and probably has never heard the famous cowboy’s ballads or never saw him in the movies. He lived briefly in that area the year I was born, so the community of Berwyn was renamed for him.
I remember once mentioning Jackie Kennedy to one of my then teen-age daughters, and she had never heard of her. Kids live in such a world of their own, one in which I’m not too familiar, either. My 13-year-old granddaughter put a new picture on her face book, and I thought it was another boyfriend. She told me the name, and later I started recognizing it from people’s comments about American Idol. Apparently, he won, but I never watch the show. (Because I don’t like the name, “Idol,” which shows how old-fashioned I am!)
In the same way, there are always those in the younger generation who have not heard of the story of salvation. Young people are a mission field. David said in Psalm 71:17-18, “O God, thou has taught me from my youth: and hitherto have I declared thy wondrous works. Now also when I am old and gray-headed, O God, forsake me not; until I have showed thy strength unto this generation, and thy power to every one that is to come.” A worthy prayer for every Christian.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
No Greater Love
Wow! I just viewed some of the surprise homecoming videos of military dads returning to their families. What joy and jubilation as they were reunited, especially fathers and children. Their facial expressions run the gamut of astonishment, crumpling into tears of emotion and disbelief, to screaming, laughing and joyful crying. One would have to be made of stone not to cry with them.
Then there are the heart-rending personal stories aired of families separated and (sometimes) reunited in the recent tornado tragedies. When we hear casualties as only statistics, it’s sad, but when we hear the first-hand accounts of those involved, it becomes personal and we feel their pain and loss, or in all-too-few cases, their joy.
Families were God’s idea. In fact, in Ephesians 3:14-15, it says, “For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named.” We, as Christians, are part of God’s family! We are named for Jesus Christ, our Elder Brother! Whether in heaven, or on earth, we are still part of the family.
In fact, the Bible is full of family imagery in our relationship with God, who is our true family. He is called, Father, Husband, and is compared to a nurturing mother. Jesus is our Heavenly Bridegroom. We are God’s children!
The earthly family is under attack today at its very foundation, the institution of marriage. But families are the building blocks of our society, little microcosms of teaching, rearing, training, nurturing, governing, caring, loyalty, and cooperation units without which our culture would crumble.
Just as the children loved and depended upon their returning dads, we are told in the Bible that we can go boldly to Him with our needs. “In whom we have boldness and access with confidence by the faith of him,” Ephesians 3:12. Jesus called God, Abba, a term equivalent to our word, Daddy. And He is just as joyful to see us as a father his child. Actually, earthly love pales in comparison to His love for us, His family.
Then there are the heart-rending personal stories aired of families separated and (sometimes) reunited in the recent tornado tragedies. When we hear casualties as only statistics, it’s sad, but when we hear the first-hand accounts of those involved, it becomes personal and we feel their pain and loss, or in all-too-few cases, their joy.
Families were God’s idea. In fact, in Ephesians 3:14-15, it says, “For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named.” We, as Christians, are part of God’s family! We are named for Jesus Christ, our Elder Brother! Whether in heaven, or on earth, we are still part of the family.
In fact, the Bible is full of family imagery in our relationship with God, who is our true family. He is called, Father, Husband, and is compared to a nurturing mother. Jesus is our Heavenly Bridegroom. We are God’s children!
The earthly family is under attack today at its very foundation, the institution of marriage. But families are the building blocks of our society, little microcosms of teaching, rearing, training, nurturing, governing, caring, loyalty, and cooperation units without which our culture would crumble.
Just as the children loved and depended upon their returning dads, we are told in the Bible that we can go boldly to Him with our needs. “In whom we have boldness and access with confidence by the faith of him,” Ephesians 3:12. Jesus called God, Abba, a term equivalent to our word, Daddy. And He is just as joyful to see us as a father his child. Actually, earthly love pales in comparison to His love for us, His family.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Of Fruit and Flowers
Before we left for our trip, I emptied the water from my vase of roses, leaving the flowers there. When we returned a week later, I found the roses had dried, but their heads were lolling in a permanent droop over the bent stems. I put a ribbon around them and laid them on a bookshelf. Lying there, the full faces of the roses are exposed to view, beautifully preserved almost in their original state. Actually, they look even better, because when I left they were beginning to fall open, flattening out unattractively. Now they are almost a tight bloom again, thanks to gravity and the shrinkage of drying. Though I can’t smell, I’m sure there is still a faint fragrance about them.
We heard a series of messages from some special speakers at our son’s church in Houston. One was based on II Corinthians 2:14-16, dealing with the fragrance of Christ. The Word says, “Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savor of his knowledge by us in every place. For we are unto God a sweet savor of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish: To the one we are the savor of death unto death; and to the other the savor of life unto life.”
A comparison was made to Zacharias, the priest and father of John the Baptist, who went into the temple to burn incense. When he came out, he doubtless carried the fragrance of the incense in his clothes, and there was no doubt to anyone where he had been. We are to carry the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ wherever we go.
Another message dealt with the fruit of the Spirit, which has nine attributes: love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance (Galatians 5:22-23). Part of what the speaker said, emphasizing love, is that joy is love rejoicing, peace is love reposing, faithfulness is love believing, gentleness is love relating, and self control is self, controlled by the Holy Spirit.
Just as the scent of the roses lingers, may the very fragrance of Christ linger on us wherever we go. If we possess and practice the attributes of the fruit of the Spirit, there will be no doubt of that!
We heard a series of messages from some special speakers at our son’s church in Houston. One was based on II Corinthians 2:14-16, dealing with the fragrance of Christ. The Word says, “Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savor of his knowledge by us in every place. For we are unto God a sweet savor of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish: To the one we are the savor of death unto death; and to the other the savor of life unto life.”
A comparison was made to Zacharias, the priest and father of John the Baptist, who went into the temple to burn incense. When he came out, he doubtless carried the fragrance of the incense in his clothes, and there was no doubt to anyone where he had been. We are to carry the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ wherever we go.
Another message dealt with the fruit of the Spirit, which has nine attributes: love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance (Galatians 5:22-23). Part of what the speaker said, emphasizing love, is that joy is love rejoicing, peace is love reposing, faithfulness is love believing, gentleness is love relating, and self control is self, controlled by the Holy Spirit.
Just as the scent of the roses lingers, may the very fragrance of Christ linger on us wherever we go. If we possess and practice the attributes of the fruit of the Spirit, there will be no doubt of that!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Children's Children
“Don’t panic! Stay calm. It will be all right.” The soothing, feminine voice reassured the patient. Car accident? Tornado victim? No, it was just our four-year-old granddaughter comforting her two-year old sister who was having peroxide and a band-aid applied after falling and skinning her knee.
To say Anne-Marie is dramatic would be an understatement. We loved being with them this week and sharing a slice of their everyday lives. When I would answer Anne-Marie after vaguely hearing her say something, she would respond, “I wasn’t talking to you. I’m just playing,” then go back to her conversations and imaginative scenarios with her toys. Maddie is her comic imitator and admirer as she watches and copies her big sister.
Maddie is following the same late-talking pattern Anne-Marie exhibited, but frankly, I think she has skipped from talking to reading. As we drove up to What-a-Burger, the signature Texas restaurant, she pointed and squealed, “Burger!” Browsing a kid's book rack on one of our shopping ventures, she whirled to her mommy and yelled, “Swiper!” as she noticed the name and character on a Dora the Explorer cover.
On a trip to the mall, our daughter-in-law, Tammy, wanted to pick up swim suits for the girls so they could play in the fountains on the plaza. I’d been with them before when they stepped on the intermittent spurting fountains, hurrying to guess which one would erupt next. While Tammy scanned the tiny bathing suits on the rack, the kids eyed the sandals displayed within their reach in the children’s clothing store.
“Mommy, do you like these?” Anne-Marie questioned as she slipped on one fancy pair after another. I looked down to see Maddie wedging her pudgy foot into a shiny gold pair, too. A few minutes later, she was pulling a t-shirt from a stack and holding it up for size against her chest. Typically female, they are born shoppers.
All our grandchildren are growing up! Two will be seniors in high school this fall, two in eleventh grade, two entering high school and another promoted to middle school, making two in middle school. That only leaves one in elementary and the two pre-schoolers! The other seven are young adults now.
How blessed we felt as we returned home after visiting all our “away” children’s families on our two recent trips! We attended church with them, Howard even speaking at the English service of the Chinese church where our son, Benjamin, is youth pastor. Jamie (as the family knows him), warmed our hearts as he stressed to the youth the importance of bringing up their future families in a Christian home, as he was brought up and is bringing up his family.
This was brought home to us when we stayed overnight at son Trevor's family's house, on the way back. Our grandson, Kyle, 14. was excited to tell us of the youth ministry trips he will participate in this summer, playing his guitar on worship teams, as well as teaching VBS on outreaches with his former Children’s pastor. God is so good!
To say Anne-Marie is dramatic would be an understatement. We loved being with them this week and sharing a slice of their everyday lives. When I would answer Anne-Marie after vaguely hearing her say something, she would respond, “I wasn’t talking to you. I’m just playing,” then go back to her conversations and imaginative scenarios with her toys. Maddie is her comic imitator and admirer as she watches and copies her big sister.
Maddie is following the same late-talking pattern Anne-Marie exhibited, but frankly, I think she has skipped from talking to reading. As we drove up to What-a-Burger, the signature Texas restaurant, she pointed and squealed, “Burger!” Browsing a kid's book rack on one of our shopping ventures, she whirled to her mommy and yelled, “Swiper!” as she noticed the name and character on a Dora the Explorer cover.
On a trip to the mall, our daughter-in-law, Tammy, wanted to pick up swim suits for the girls so they could play in the fountains on the plaza. I’d been with them before when they stepped on the intermittent spurting fountains, hurrying to guess which one would erupt next. While Tammy scanned the tiny bathing suits on the rack, the kids eyed the sandals displayed within their reach in the children’s clothing store.
“Mommy, do you like these?” Anne-Marie questioned as she slipped on one fancy pair after another. I looked down to see Maddie wedging her pudgy foot into a shiny gold pair, too. A few minutes later, she was pulling a t-shirt from a stack and holding it up for size against her chest. Typically female, they are born shoppers.
All our grandchildren are growing up! Two will be seniors in high school this fall, two in eleventh grade, two entering high school and another promoted to middle school, making two in middle school. That only leaves one in elementary and the two pre-schoolers! The other seven are young adults now.
How blessed we felt as we returned home after visiting all our “away” children’s families on our two recent trips! We attended church with them, Howard even speaking at the English service of the Chinese church where our son, Benjamin, is youth pastor. Jamie (as the family knows him), warmed our hearts as he stressed to the youth the importance of bringing up their future families in a Christian home, as he was brought up and is bringing up his family.
This was brought home to us when we stayed overnight at son Trevor's family's house, on the way back. Our grandson, Kyle, 14. was excited to tell us of the youth ministry trips he will participate in this summer, playing his guitar on worship teams, as well as teaching VBS on outreaches with his former Children’s pastor. God is so good!
Monday, May 16, 2011
He's Still Workin' on Me!
We heard a sermon to graduates yesterday, but really, it applied to everyone. The minister, in encouraging young people in confidence and self-esteem, assured them that God thinks about them and knew them before they were even born. He referenced Psalms 139:16, which says, “Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them.”
It is a comfort to know that God wants the best for us, as it says in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” In light of all this, I know it is futile to worry and fret about things, but I did put myself under a lot of stress this weekend, especially for Saturday, the day of the book festival here.
It did turn out to be a rewarding event, despite all my concerns. If only I would not anticipate the negative, and try to presuppose what might happen. I must confess, it felt a little intimidating to be in the company of so many authors, all displaying their best works, but they were just people, after all. And quite an interesting group, at that. The author whose table was next to mine was a native American, dressed in a fringed, buckskin outfit with books on Indian folklore that she had written and illustrated. They were quite popular, especially with kids, although adults liked them, too.
An author who was a native of England, now living in Missouri, was there, and had written many novels, poems and other works. We had a chance to read from our books or speak about them at a podium set up in the library of the mansion where the festival was held. “Are you going to speak?” I asked him as he stopped to chat at my table, to which he answered, “No! Those are all authors in there!” I knew the feeling. When I finally got up my nerve to read, there wasn’t time (the organizer said they were all taking too long), so I was just as glad.
One of the participants was a pastor’s wife who wrote devotionals and a study on Ecclesiastes. We enjoyed talking together, and I met the author of a book I was given for my birthday about the E.W. Marland family, the one who built the house in which we were standing that very day. He had lived in this home with his first wife before he built the imposing Marland Mansion that has become a landmark for our city.
It was with a sigh of satisfaction that I finished the long day and gathered my things to go home. The surroundings had been beautiful, the mood festive, I had sold some books, we had eaten barbeque, and my husband had wandered around meeting people, listening to guitar music and filling me in on what was happening in the other parts of the mansion where other booksellers were set up.
The pastor finished his message with a verse from Ephesians 2:10 where it says we are His workmanship. He said this meant a work of art, a work in progress. That means there is still room for improvement! Maybe I won’t worry so much next time!
It is a comfort to know that God wants the best for us, as it says in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” In light of all this, I know it is futile to worry and fret about things, but I did put myself under a lot of stress this weekend, especially for Saturday, the day of the book festival here.
It did turn out to be a rewarding event, despite all my concerns. If only I would not anticipate the negative, and try to presuppose what might happen. I must confess, it felt a little intimidating to be in the company of so many authors, all displaying their best works, but they were just people, after all. And quite an interesting group, at that. The author whose table was next to mine was a native American, dressed in a fringed, buckskin outfit with books on Indian folklore that she had written and illustrated. They were quite popular, especially with kids, although adults liked them, too.
An author who was a native of England, now living in Missouri, was there, and had written many novels, poems and other works. We had a chance to read from our books or speak about them at a podium set up in the library of the mansion where the festival was held. “Are you going to speak?” I asked him as he stopped to chat at my table, to which he answered, “No! Those are all authors in there!” I knew the feeling. When I finally got up my nerve to read, there wasn’t time (the organizer said they were all taking too long), so I was just as glad.
One of the participants was a pastor’s wife who wrote devotionals and a study on Ecclesiastes. We enjoyed talking together, and I met the author of a book I was given for my birthday about the E.W. Marland family, the one who built the house in which we were standing that very day. He had lived in this home with his first wife before he built the imposing Marland Mansion that has become a landmark for our city.
It was with a sigh of satisfaction that I finished the long day and gathered my things to go home. The surroundings had been beautiful, the mood festive, I had sold some books, we had eaten barbeque, and my husband had wandered around meeting people, listening to guitar music and filling me in on what was happening in the other parts of the mansion where other booksellers were set up.
The pastor finished his message with a verse from Ephesians 2:10 where it says we are His workmanship. He said this meant a work of art, a work in progress. That means there is still room for improvement! Maybe I won’t worry so much next time!
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