"Lord, make us a blessing and a help to someone today," I prayed when I woke up yesterday. We hadn't gone to church the night before, since Howard noticed a problem with a tire and spent time prying off a wheel cover and loosening lug bolts, uncovering the valve stem where he needed to put in air. Apparently, whoever installed the tire had left the cover askew. Thankfully, we had had no problems on our 40 mile trip to Stillwater that day.
Our first stop on our errands yesterday morning was to get air in the tire. "Oh, no," Howard grumbled when he saw a car there before us at the air hose pump. Two young women were fluttering around their car, up and down and back and forth to the dispenser. I told him they would probably be finished soon, so we waited. After a good ten minutes, they still hadn't moved, so I suggested he see if he could help them.
Howard went over, taking his air gauge, and asked them if he could be of assistance, then disappeared from my view as he knelt to work with their tire. Now it was my turn to wait. Evidently, something was wrong with the dispenser device, as the girls kept approaching it and pounding it. Finally, Howard came back.
"What was wrong?" I asked him. He said they'd had trouble getting the tire to take air, but he worked with it until he got 20 pounds of pressure into it. They had thanked him, and he'd suggested they go to another service station to get more air, which is what we had to do for our tire.
I was telling my son about our adventure later that day, and he said, "Oh, the hose on that machine is old and cracked, and the air leaks out." Apparently he'd had experience there with his vehicles. "I've thought about buying them a new hose, myself," he said, "I like to go there because that's the only place that has free air that I know of." We found that out getting our tire inflated!
Later, I realized that God had answered my prayer. He had placed someone in our path that we could help!
And I learned a spiritual lesson, too. The Holy Spirit is likened to air in the Bible, especially when Jesus is talking to Nicodemus who had come at night with his questions. In John 3:8, Jesus says, "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and wither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit."
If we allow our connection with the Lord to become unused, old, and cracked, we may have a hard time time feeling the breath of the Holy Spirit. "We leak," someone once said, when illustrating that we need to be continually "being filled" with the Spirit. How much better to keep our spirits pliable, fresh and unobstructed so that we are buoyant with His Spirit, and as my preacher husband says, "with our sails filled with air and a spring in our steps!" A sure way to be blessed and a blessing to others!
Friday, September 21, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Special Day
What a joyous day today! The day two little girls were adopted into our son's family. The whole local family was invited to go along to witness and share in this momentous event. The children were excited, looking pretty in matching church dresses with their normally straight hair coaxed into soft, curly waves framing their smiling, yet tentative, faces.
"Let's get them something," I suggested to my husband. An adoption party is scheduled for the weekend, but I wanted a little memento for the actual day. We decided on Mylar balloons, and found two heart-shaped ones with the words,"You Are So Special," on them. I waited until after the brief, official proceedings to give them to my new granddaughters when we returned to the cars.
When it was time to begin, the judge cleared the court room of all but our family, nine in all, dressed for the occasion. First the parents, our son and daughter-in-law, were called forward for the formality of final agreement and intent, and then the children stood with them, wide-eyed and solemnly nodding, giving their consent to being adopted. The parents were firmly instructed that the new children would share equally in any inheritance with their biological son and daughter. That they were legally just as much their children, and their responsibility, now as their natural children.
All the preliminary work had been done over the previous many months, as attested to by the lawyer and case worker, so all that remained was for the judge to enter their new names into the record, and with a stroke of his pen, the adoption was complete. After months of placement status, the kids were officially Summers's now. A party atmosphere prevailed, a fun dinner out with their weighted balloons bobbing festively on the table, and a bowling outing planned for the afternoon.
Adoption was God's idea. Just as the children took on the name of the new parents, we take on the name of Christ when we are adopted into His family. Romans 8:15 says, "Ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." Abba means "Daddy", which is what the children call our son, Greg. As sons and daughters of God, we will share with our Elder Brother, Jesus, in the inheritance of the saints.
I have heard that the rules governing adoption are stricter even than for natural born children. One is obligated by law for their support and sustenance, and getting out of such an agreement is difficult, if not impossible. Just think how firmly we are secure in the love and care of our Heavenly Father, in Whom there is no variableness nor shadow of turning, James 1:17.
In the strong breeze, the 6-year-old's balloon got away from her, dancing tantalizingly out of reach until it wafted skyward on a gust of wind. The message, "You Are So Special," was carried to the heavens, while down on earth I replaced her balloon with an exact replica. After all grandmothers have some responsibilities, too!
"Let's get them something," I suggested to my husband. An adoption party is scheduled for the weekend, but I wanted a little memento for the actual day. We decided on Mylar balloons, and found two heart-shaped ones with the words,"You Are So Special," on them. I waited until after the brief, official proceedings to give them to my new granddaughters when we returned to the cars.
When it was time to begin, the judge cleared the court room of all but our family, nine in all, dressed for the occasion. First the parents, our son and daughter-in-law, were called forward for the formality of final agreement and intent, and then the children stood with them, wide-eyed and solemnly nodding, giving their consent to being adopted. The parents were firmly instructed that the new children would share equally in any inheritance with their biological son and daughter. That they were legally just as much their children, and their responsibility, now as their natural children.
All the preliminary work had been done over the previous many months, as attested to by the lawyer and case worker, so all that remained was for the judge to enter their new names into the record, and with a stroke of his pen, the adoption was complete. After months of placement status, the kids were officially Summers's now. A party atmosphere prevailed, a fun dinner out with their weighted balloons bobbing festively on the table, and a bowling outing planned for the afternoon.
Adoption was God's idea. Just as the children took on the name of the new parents, we take on the name of Christ when we are adopted into His family. Romans 8:15 says, "Ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." Abba means "Daddy", which is what the children call our son, Greg. As sons and daughters of God, we will share with our Elder Brother, Jesus, in the inheritance of the saints.
I have heard that the rules governing adoption are stricter even than for natural born children. One is obligated by law for their support and sustenance, and getting out of such an agreement is difficult, if not impossible. Just think how firmly we are secure in the love and care of our Heavenly Father, in Whom there is no variableness nor shadow of turning, James 1:17.
In the strong breeze, the 6-year-old's balloon got away from her, dancing tantalizingly out of reach until it wafted skyward on a gust of wind. The message, "You Are So Special," was carried to the heavens, while down on earth I replaced her balloon with an exact replica. After all grandmothers have some responsibilities, too!
Monday, September 17, 2012
All Creatures Great and Small
Patagonian cavy? Four-horned sheep? These were just a couple of the unusual animals we saw at the petting zoo at the county fair Saturday. What a surprising treat! I had expected the usual lambs, ponies and goats for the children to pet, but I knew something was different when I saw the camel, aloof and regal as it ambled in the huge enclosure with the sign, Camel Rides--$5.00, attached to the fence. This was no ordinary petting zoo, but an exotic animal petting zoo!
I felt like a child as I oohed and aahed over the cute faces of the (mostly) gentle creatures. As I touched the pouffy tuft of hair (wool, fibre?) above the darling countenance of a llama, (alpaca?) I was amazed at how silky soft it was! Who could resist such a charmer with the long, thick lashes?
Another novel sight was a zebra! I'd never been close enough to touch one before. I thought them to be only black and white striped, but up close, I could see shades of brown, like a shadow between some stripes. The placard hung on the pen explained that the stripes were for camouflage in their natural habitat. I could see how the black streaks could look like tall grass or trees in the savannahs and open woodlands of Africa.
One pen held water buffalo and brahma-like cattle, their broad, smooth foreheads warm and solid against my touch. It felt good to be experiencing this world of animals, God's creatures with which we are often out of touch. No wonder children love stuffed animals so!
I was reading this morning about the thousand years of peace, or the Millennium, on God's time clock for the future. The animals will be gentle, not carnivorous, and a natural part of a perfect civilization. Isaiah:6-8 tells us, "The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.
(7) And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. (8) And the suckling child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice' den."
What a day that will be! Never a dull moment with God's creation and creatures at peace with each other, as was intended from the beginning. I might even pet a Patagonian cavy, which I found out is a member of the rodent family. It looked like something between a rabbit and a kangaroo to me!
I felt like a child as I oohed and aahed over the cute faces of the (mostly) gentle creatures. As I touched the pouffy tuft of hair (wool, fibre?) above the darling countenance of a llama, (alpaca?) I was amazed at how silky soft it was! Who could resist such a charmer with the long, thick lashes?
Another novel sight was a zebra! I'd never been close enough to touch one before. I thought them to be only black and white striped, but up close, I could see shades of brown, like a shadow between some stripes. The placard hung on the pen explained that the stripes were for camouflage in their natural habitat. I could see how the black streaks could look like tall grass or trees in the savannahs and open woodlands of Africa.
One pen held water buffalo and brahma-like cattle, their broad, smooth foreheads warm and solid against my touch. It felt good to be experiencing this world of animals, God's creatures with which we are often out of touch. No wonder children love stuffed animals so!
I was reading this morning about the thousand years of peace, or the Millennium, on God's time clock for the future. The animals will be gentle, not carnivorous, and a natural part of a perfect civilization. Isaiah:6-8 tells us, "The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.
(7) And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. (8) And the suckling child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice' den."
What a day that will be! Never a dull moment with God's creation and creatures at peace with each other, as was intended from the beginning. I might even pet a Patagonian cavy, which I found out is a member of the rodent family. It looked like something between a rabbit and a kangaroo to me!
Friday, September 14, 2012
On the Shelf?
I love my new food storage containers that I finally got around to using. I got them at Ikea when we were visiting family in Houston this summer, and I just ran onto them recently. Like everything I get there, they are a little different, adding a touch of fun or novelty to the most ordinary product. In a set of 17 containers, 11 of them are small, some as small as half a cup or less. Nobody else would probably like that, but I save the smallest tidbits (ask my kids!).
This morning we had a few fried apples left over from breakfast that I had salvaged from three withering pommes left in the fruit bowl. They were so delicious I couldn't bear to throw them away, and they just fit into a tiny container. Now if I just don't forget to use them! I have some very neat stacks of leftovers in the fridge that look so much better in the see-through pac than they would in a plastic-wrap covered bowl! The peas look pretty, the mashed potatoes neat, and the salad crispy, like little presents.
Despite my thriftiness, none of that leftover food will do us any good if I don't remember to serve it. (Sometimes around here it's not necessary to serve it--I have a refrigerator raider in the house.) Just knowing I have it (or forgetting I have it) does not benefit our menu or our grocery budget.
Sometimes I think that's the way we are with our spiritual gifts. What good is the gift of teaching if we don't teach? Or the gift of healing if we don't pray for people? Or any of the other gifts listed in I Corinthians 12. Verse 7 says these manifestations of the Spirit are for the profit of all: Wisdom, knowledge, faith, healings, miracles, prophecy, discernment of spirits, tongues and the interpretation of tongues. Another list of gifts is given in Romans 12:3-8: Prophecy, Ministry, Teaching, Exhortation, Giving, Leadership, and Mercy.
We can admire the pretty wrappings or packaging of a gift, and just like it for itself. But how much better to open the box, use and enjoy it and/or use it for the benefit of others? Even the gift of salvation is like that. Although it is a gift, we must accept it and appropriate it, including all its benefits. Why let our gifts grow stale and as unappetizing as forgotten leftovers? They are not for cold storage!
This morning we had a few fried apples left over from breakfast that I had salvaged from three withering pommes left in the fruit bowl. They were so delicious I couldn't bear to throw them away, and they just fit into a tiny container. Now if I just don't forget to use them! I have some very neat stacks of leftovers in the fridge that look so much better in the see-through pac than they would in a plastic-wrap covered bowl! The peas look pretty, the mashed potatoes neat, and the salad crispy, like little presents.
Despite my thriftiness, none of that leftover food will do us any good if I don't remember to serve it. (Sometimes around here it's not necessary to serve it--I have a refrigerator raider in the house.) Just knowing I have it (or forgetting I have it) does not benefit our menu or our grocery budget.
Sometimes I think that's the way we are with our spiritual gifts. What good is the gift of teaching if we don't teach? Or the gift of healing if we don't pray for people? Or any of the other gifts listed in I Corinthians 12. Verse 7 says these manifestations of the Spirit are for the profit of all: Wisdom, knowledge, faith, healings, miracles, prophecy, discernment of spirits, tongues and the interpretation of tongues. Another list of gifts is given in Romans 12:3-8: Prophecy, Ministry, Teaching, Exhortation, Giving, Leadership, and Mercy.
We can admire the pretty wrappings or packaging of a gift, and just like it for itself. But how much better to open the box, use and enjoy it and/or use it for the benefit of others? Even the gift of salvation is like that. Although it is a gift, we must accept it and appropriate it, including all its benefits. Why let our gifts grow stale and as unappetizing as forgotten leftovers? They are not for cold storage!
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Tick-Tock
"Hi, Mom. What are you doing?" my son spoke over the phone. I heaved a sigh and told him I was just about to lie down for a rest. He wanted to know what I had been doing to be so tired.
"Did laundry, hung clothes, cleaned kitchen, walked all over Lowe's with Dad, carried stored items from Greg's garage, and made lunch, to name a few," I said.
Despite the interruption, I always enjoyed talking with Jamie. He was on his way home from his class in a Master's program where he is studying Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic. He was explaining how difficult it was, with something like 27 Greek meanings for the article adjective "the," so I asked him why try to reinvent the wheel. After all, someone has already translated the scriptures for us. He gave an example of wind and spirit when Jesus is talking to Nicodemus about being born again that made me realize how fascinating it was to him.
I had just closed my eyes at the end of our conversation when his father came in from the backyard where he'd been working and asked what I was doing. I think he said something about a nap, too. When I opened my eyes again I stared uncomprehendingly at the clock. It couldn't be showing 3:20! I had slept over an hour! We always pick up the grandkids at school by 3:00 o'clock!
"Why did you go to sleep?" I demanded, staggering into the bedroom, "You were supposed to wake me up!" My husband jumped up bleary-eyed, I found the school's number and told them we were on the way. The kids were the last ones waiting out front with a teacher.
Beth, the dramatic 5-year-old, threw up her hands in exasperation when she saw us, pointed at me and said sternly, "Nevuh do that again!" while her mature, 7-year-old sister just resignedly got into the car, shaking her head.
I couldn't help thinking about the story of the 10 virgins in the Bible who fell asleep while waiting for the bridegroom. The Bible says they slumbered and slept while the bridegroom tarried, the five foolish ones running out of oil so that their lamps went out. In our busy-ness of life, may we be ever watchful for our Heavenly Bridegroom. It may be later than we think.
"Did laundry, hung clothes, cleaned kitchen, walked all over Lowe's with Dad, carried stored items from Greg's garage, and made lunch, to name a few," I said.
Despite the interruption, I always enjoyed talking with Jamie. He was on his way home from his class in a Master's program where he is studying Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic. He was explaining how difficult it was, with something like 27 Greek meanings for the article adjective "the," so I asked him why try to reinvent the wheel. After all, someone has already translated the scriptures for us. He gave an example of wind and spirit when Jesus is talking to Nicodemus about being born again that made me realize how fascinating it was to him.
I had just closed my eyes at the end of our conversation when his father came in from the backyard where he'd been working and asked what I was doing. I think he said something about a nap, too. When I opened my eyes again I stared uncomprehendingly at the clock. It couldn't be showing 3:20! I had slept over an hour! We always pick up the grandkids at school by 3:00 o'clock!
"Why did you go to sleep?" I demanded, staggering into the bedroom, "You were supposed to wake me up!" My husband jumped up bleary-eyed, I found the school's number and told them we were on the way. The kids were the last ones waiting out front with a teacher.
Beth, the dramatic 5-year-old, threw up her hands in exasperation when she saw us, pointed at me and said sternly, "Nevuh do that again!" while her mature, 7-year-old sister just resignedly got into the car, shaking her head.
I couldn't help thinking about the story of the 10 virgins in the Bible who fell asleep while waiting for the bridegroom. The Bible says they slumbered and slept while the bridegroom tarried, the five foolish ones running out of oil so that their lamps went out. In our busy-ness of life, may we be ever watchful for our Heavenly Bridegroom. It may be later than we think.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Divine Appointment?
I was idly noticing as we went into Walmart how varied the dress was among the customers. One woman who just came out was dressed to the nines, while others couldn't have been more casual (to put it mildly). Then I saw an older woman striding briskly along in a coordinated cropped pants outfit and thought how attractive she looked.
We were only in the store a few minutes, and when we came out, I saw the same lady, windblown and harried looking, rushing in and out between the rows of parked vehicles. "Howard, that lady can't find her car!" I nudged my husband. "Say something to her!"
"How are you, Ma'am?" he spoke as we approached her, to which she replied, running her hand distractedly through her short, white bob, "Not very good right now. I can't find my car!" She said she thought she remembered parking it right there. I could thoroughly sympathize, as that had happened to us many times.
"What color is it? We'll help you find it," my husband assured her. She told us it was a silver Buick, and it seemed every other car in the parking lot was silver. After a few minutes, he asked if she could sound her car alarm on her key holder. By this time we were several rows over, and about the time the alarm sounded, she spotted it. Evidently it had been too far away to connect before. She thanked us and hurried across the parking lot toward it.
My heart went out to the woman, imagining the panic and confusion she must have felt. When I thought about it later, I realized we were at the right place at the right time once again. (One day last summer I had helped a lost child wandering confused outside Walmart find her grandmother.) How strange that today we would walk into the store, go directly to the items we wanted, and go through the check-out, all in 10 minutes or less? I don't think I have ever come out of Walmart in less than half an hour!
And why was I taking note of people I observed as we went in? Normally, I might not even notice, intent on my shopping purposes. Thankfully, no unscrupulous person took advantage of the senior citizen in her distress, thinking her an easy prey with car keys to a Buick in her hand. One can only imagine a different scenario. Evidently, the lady had gone into one entrance of the store and came out the other exit (we've done that, too!).
I believe the Holy Spirit gives us these nudges, makes us alert at the right time, and uses us to be a neighbor to a total stranger.
We were only in the store a few minutes, and when we came out, I saw the same lady, windblown and harried looking, rushing in and out between the rows of parked vehicles. "Howard, that lady can't find her car!" I nudged my husband. "Say something to her!"
"How are you, Ma'am?" he spoke as we approached her, to which she replied, running her hand distractedly through her short, white bob, "Not very good right now. I can't find my car!" She said she thought she remembered parking it right there. I could thoroughly sympathize, as that had happened to us many times.
"What color is it? We'll help you find it," my husband assured her. She told us it was a silver Buick, and it seemed every other car in the parking lot was silver. After a few minutes, he asked if she could sound her car alarm on her key holder. By this time we were several rows over, and about the time the alarm sounded, she spotted it. Evidently it had been too far away to connect before. She thanked us and hurried across the parking lot toward it.
My heart went out to the woman, imagining the panic and confusion she must have felt. When I thought about it later, I realized we were at the right place at the right time once again. (One day last summer I had helped a lost child wandering confused outside Walmart find her grandmother.) How strange that today we would walk into the store, go directly to the items we wanted, and go through the check-out, all in 10 minutes or less? I don't think I have ever come out of Walmart in less than half an hour!
And why was I taking note of people I observed as we went in? Normally, I might not even notice, intent on my shopping purposes. Thankfully, no unscrupulous person took advantage of the senior citizen in her distress, thinking her an easy prey with car keys to a Buick in her hand. One can only imagine a different scenario. Evidently, the lady had gone into one entrance of the store and came out the other exit (we've done that, too!).
I believe the Holy Spirit gives us these nudges, makes us alert at the right time, and uses us to be a neighbor to a total stranger.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Majoring on Minors
Breakfast looked so good! I was hungry! I had gone to special effort to make the biscuits Howard wanted and the grits I was in the mood for; the eggs and turkey bacon were finished just as everything was ready. I had even put a handful of blueberries in a dish and placed a small bowl of rounded orbs of juicy, glistening watermelon on the table.
I sighed with satisfaction as I surveyed the quaint little breakfast table we'd found that just fit into our kitchen. After the blessing, I reached for the pepper to sprinkle my eggs, when suddenly I was looking down at a thick black mass over everything! The top had come off the shaker! "Why does everything happen to me when I try so hard!" I couldn't help exclaiming.
Just two days before, we had scheduled the cable man out to hook up our services after our recent move. I was so excited to be back on internet and connected to the world again I could hardly wait for the appointment. I was awake bright and early and had all the chores finished in preparation for the service call to be between 8:00 a.m. and noon. He seemed to be taking his time, though, I thought, when Howard remarked, "Who was that call from when the phone rang so long awhile ago?"
"What call? Why didn't you answer it? It was probably the cable man!" I cried. I called back the number and got the recording that since we hadn't answered, they would have to reschedule. So, complaining profusely, I had to wait another day (which I was afraid would be even longer).
Well, I was able to salvage my breakfast, our living room is now alive with sound and color, and I am back online. It had been an intense couple of weeks as I tried to reconstitute our house after moving our belongings back in, hanging pictures (the nails were still in the right places), unpacking and searching for lost items. Where had I packed our stainless tableware? We'd been using three forks and two spoons and sharing a knife for days! I knew I had sorted it neatly into its tray, wrapped and tied a dishtowel around it and put it...where? Into a basket, I thought. But unpacking some miscellaneous items yesterday, I spied the familiar bundle at the bottom of a box! Praise God!
It wasn't the first time I had prayed and found something. Retrieving things from storage, I searched high and low for my pot rack. After several forays, I prayed once again, "God please let me find my pot rack." I raised my eyes and there it was, leaning against the wall beside a full-length mirror!
The house is beautiful again, and now I can reflect and thank God for my blessings. He was there all the time!
I sighed with satisfaction as I surveyed the quaint little breakfast table we'd found that just fit into our kitchen. After the blessing, I reached for the pepper to sprinkle my eggs, when suddenly I was looking down at a thick black mass over everything! The top had come off the shaker! "Why does everything happen to me when I try so hard!" I couldn't help exclaiming.
Just two days before, we had scheduled the cable man out to hook up our services after our recent move. I was so excited to be back on internet and connected to the world again I could hardly wait for the appointment. I was awake bright and early and had all the chores finished in preparation for the service call to be between 8:00 a.m. and noon. He seemed to be taking his time, though, I thought, when Howard remarked, "Who was that call from when the phone rang so long awhile ago?"
"What call? Why didn't you answer it? It was probably the cable man!" I cried. I called back the number and got the recording that since we hadn't answered, they would have to reschedule. So, complaining profusely, I had to wait another day (which I was afraid would be even longer).
Well, I was able to salvage my breakfast, our living room is now alive with sound and color, and I am back online. It had been an intense couple of weeks as I tried to reconstitute our house after moving our belongings back in, hanging pictures (the nails were still in the right places), unpacking and searching for lost items. Where had I packed our stainless tableware? We'd been using three forks and two spoons and sharing a knife for days! I knew I had sorted it neatly into its tray, wrapped and tied a dishtowel around it and put it...where? Into a basket, I thought. But unpacking some miscellaneous items yesterday, I spied the familiar bundle at the bottom of a box! Praise God!
It wasn't the first time I had prayed and found something. Retrieving things from storage, I searched high and low for my pot rack. After several forays, I prayed once again, "God please let me find my pot rack." I raised my eyes and there it was, leaning against the wall beside a full-length mirror!
The house is beautiful again, and now I can reflect and thank God for my blessings. He was there all the time!
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