Freely

Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give.  Matthew 10:8

Why it is so hard to:

1. Forgive
2. Love the unlovely
3. Give of our time
4. Give of our finances
5. Give of ourselves

How we often think:

1. If I have to work for my forgiveness, so should you. 
2. If I have to be kind and nice and friendly and etc., to be loved, so should you.
3. If I only have 24 hours in a day to get stuff done & I get it done, so should you.

Get the picture?

When I asked God, He directed me to Matthew 10:8. 

I know the Bible says if you don’t work, you shouldn’t eat (2 Thessalonians 3:10).  That a man who doesn't take care of his household is worse than an infidel (1 Timothy 5:8) but I want to talk about the freely receive part.  In truth, we can’t be good givers until we know how to receive. 

I know people who always have their hand out expecting you to fill it and get extremely upset if you don’t.

I know people who make it particularly difficult to do anything for them.  They don’t want to be beholden to anybody and will make you feel bad for try to do something for them.  Yet, they want to do for others and you are supposed to graciously accept their gift.

Neither attitude is right.  The balance?  Freely receive; freely give.

Over the last seven years, I have had to have a lot of help.  Although I was thankful for it (and hopefully the giver saw only that), I didn’t really freely receive.  It seriously irritated me that it seemed like I was always the one with my hand out. 

God took me to task for it.  I realized that, although I had freely received salvation, I believed I had to work for everything else.  So if I had to work for forgiveness, acceptance, healing, finances, etc…  Then add to that thinking it was never enough…  One messed up lady.  We have been working on that.  See, I have to freely receive from Him before I can freely give to someone else.

God gave us everything we need for life here and throughout eternity (2 Peter 1:3).  Freely receive it.  Freely give it.

Vendetta--Check it out          E-book: Smashwords      

Ghostman--Check it out        E-book: Smashwords

Holiday Memories

At The EastTexas Christian Writers' meeting this Tuesday, five ladies spoke about a story they had written for Christmas.  Here are the brief outlines for two of them.

Linda Burklin spoke about an experience she had in South Africa (missionary kid) while helping some friends at their chicken farm around Christmas.  Anyone who has dealt with chickens was right there with her smelling the smells, feeling the muck, hearing the noise.  She also spoke about how it brought home the reality of Jesus, God Incarnate, coming down to the muck and mire of earth to become man and free us.  Very poignant.  

Patty Wiseman spoke of an aunt that felt like she was ‘lost in the shuffle’ her whole life.  One Christmas her siblings received new bicycles (the brothers-red; the sister-blue) and she got a stuffed toy because her parents couldn’t afford four new bikes.  She received a hand me down bike that didn’t have a seat.  Her father was supposed to fix it.  It never got fixed and she never got a new bike.  Her life went pretty much like that until after her kids were grown and she married a kind, thoughtful man.  One Christmas she came downstairs and there stood her husband by the tree with a brand new red bike.  Tissue anyone?

Everyone has memories of the holiday season.  Some good; some not so good.  How we handle them determines how our holidays go.  I know it is not always easy to let go of things (see last week’s blog, Regret).  Still, it is a choice.  Do we let them pull us down or do we remember the good stuff?

I know people who look forward to Christmas all year and those who do their best to make themselves and everyone around them miserable from October through the New Year.  Having dealt with both, I know what it is like to swing from “Oh pu-lease” (the chirpiness does sometimes get to you) to fighting to keep from becoming ‘bah humbug’ myself. 

The challenge:

If your memories are not good ones or if the last few years have gone south, determine today to stop dwelling on that and begin creating new memories.  Families are not just blood.  They come in all shapes and sizes.  Be open and allow family to gather round you this holiday season.

My prayer for you:

May the peace of God still your soul and fill your heart and house in the coming year.

Thankful

I saw a Facebook post the other day that said, “Thanksgiving—the time people spend 30 days declaring how thankful they are and then try to kill one another to get the best deals on Black Friday.  (Slight chuckle.)

Although I did not post myself, I have enjoyed reading the thankful post. (It’s good to reflect on God’s goodness in our lives.)  I find it amusing that scientists are telling us their studies show being grateful is healthy for us.  It only took them how many years to prove to their satisfaction what the Bible has said all along (EX:  Proverbs 12:25; 15:4; 17:22).

So, here’s mine. 

I’m thankful I was raised in a family that understands what family is about.  Do we always agree? No.  Are we always together? No, busy lives.  Do we make time for one another? 

Yes.  Are we there for one another? Definitely.

I’m thankful that no matter where our travels took us in the early years of my marriage, I had deep roots in Texas.  I knew I could always come home.

I’m thankful (don’t tell them) my sisters overruled me a time or two and my circumstances improved.

I’m thankful for good friends.  That even though we don’t often see one another, I know they are always just a phone call away.

I’m thankful for a dry cool/warm house with central heat and air.  Up until three years ago that wasn’t the case.  I had five dogs and two cats at the time.  One night when it got down in the twenties, I learned the meaning of the phrase ‘a three dog night’.  I had on sweats, thermal socks and cover a foot deep and it was still cold.  I woke up the next morning and was covered up with animals.  Couldn’t move but I was warm.

But I’m most thankful that forty-one years ago I paid attention to the Holy Spirit calling my name.  (He speaks all the time; we just don’t listen).  I accepted Jesus’ sacrifice for me and asked Him to be my Savior.  Has it always been easy? No.  Have I ever strayed from the straight and narrow? Yes, but the Holy Spirit is always there to get me back on track.  Has it been worth the trials? Oh, definitely.  He has kept me through some things that only He and I know about.  I’ve said it before but it still holds true.  If He had not gotten a hold of me at thirteen, I would be insane, in prison or dead by now.

To all who have enriched my life, thank you.

Vendetta--Check it out          E-book: Smashwords      

Ghostman--Check it out        E-book: Smashwords

Cooking

As I’ve said before, I’m five years younger than Ada (the sister next to me).  If my siblings were going to do anything away from the house, they had to have their chores done first.  They were always in a hurry and it was much easier to move me out of the way and get it done.  That pretty much left me out in the cold when it came to learning how to do things like wash clothes or cook.  If I didn’t get by osmosis, I didn’t get it.

Both Mom and Dad were good cooks.  All their siblings and various offspring could cook.  My brother was and my sisters are good cooks.  That left me. 

Growing up, we always had a garden.  Dad always had three pigs and one calf fattening out to kill.  We had a smoke house and I can remember salting meat and making case sausage in the kitchen.  We also had chickens :-(.  The frowny face is because, as the youngest, it was my job to pluck and scrape them and we never killed just one or two.  We froze them whole.

One day when I was about 12, Mom called and asked me to get supper started because she was running late.  She said there was a chicken thawing in the sink; fry it and make some mashed potatoes and gravy.   I had never cut up a chicken.  I knew how to get the wings and legs off, so I did that.  Then I grabbed it at the neck and jerked.  What came apart is how it was fried up.

Sarcasm is an art form in our family and Harold Wayne (my brother) was a master at it.  He ate without saying a word.  Then he held up his plate and said, ‘that was pretty good.  How ‘bout you pour some of those taters on here, cut me a slab of that gravy to go on top and give me some more of those chicken ribs.’

Of course, I didn’t think it was funny then but now…I tell the story often and laugh every time.

I guess I absorbed more than I thought because when I went to Bible school, I got a job in the kitchen as an assistant cook.  By my third year, I was a head cook.  Imagine that.

For family gatherings, my bunch tends to assign me things that are easy to fix and hard to mess up (which shows what they think about my cooking).  I don’t mind.  Besides, I don’t cook that much now because it’s just me (seriously, my sister and niece both cook and I just walk over and eat at their houses). 

I know; I’m spoiled and proud of it.   

Vendetta--Check it out          E-book: Smashwords     




   

Ghostman--Check it out        E-book: Smashwords

True Professionals

I met a group of true professionals Sunday afternoon. 

A couple in our church, David and Kathy Ferguson, are adopting a little boy and girl from China.  Both are special needs children.  They have a daughter and son who are in college and a five year old they brought home from China two years ago (also a special needs child).  After the China adoption was already underway, a blue eyed blonde baby girl came into their home.  Definitely starting over in a big way.

They held an aluminum can drive (still going) to help raise funds for the adoption.  The local news station heard about it and did a segment on them.  A group of people, who regularly do fund raisers, saw it and contacted them about having a benefit concert for them.  There were seven artists who gave their time to come to the church and put on this concert.  Some from as far away as Dallas.

It was a Southern Gospel concert.  We sing contemporary at church and I rarely hear Southern Gospel anymore.  There’s just something about the sound of strings bending on a flattop or the draw of a fiddle.  Of course, that they had a little boogie-woogie thrown in didn’t hurt either.  

For whatever reason, there were only a few people that came.  I know it was hard on the Fergusons.  It was hard on me and I was just supposed to punch buttons on the computer to run the overheads.  I didn’t have a stake in this but I was very disappointed.  I wanted to see the place packed.

I have to confess I wasn’t planning on staying.  It takes me 40 minutes to get to the church and I have developed the habit of not leaving the house on Sundays once I get home.  I was there to lend a hand in the setup because they brought all their own equipment but I was planning on going home as soon as the setup was done.  Then David asked me if I would stay and help so he could sit with his family.  I am so glad I did.

I thoroughly enjoyed meeting these artists and hearing stories about other venues they have played and how God moved.  Made me wish I could make a few trips with them.  I know I would have a ball.

When it was time for the concert to start, David came into the sound booth and said, ‘Well, we’re having a concert”.  Each artist sang like there were a thousand people there.  We laughed, cried, clapped and worshiped. Even though the crowd was small, we received the full two hour concert. 

They are planning another benefit concert for the Fergusons in a bigger venue.  Will I be there?  If it is at all possible.

ARTISTS:  

Casey Rivers:  2006 2nd place Nashville Star:  Casey Rivers: Facebook

Grant Cook:  Grant Cook: Facebook

Kallee Rhodes:  Kallee Rhodes: Facebook

Melinda McFarlin:  Mcfarlin & Mabry: Facebook

Richard Mabry

Mike Huff 
Jamie Lynn Flanakin

Kudos to every one of them.  

Confession

It’s hard to believe Christmas is just a few weeks away and it’s time for our annual shopping trip (we don’t do Black Friday).  Of course, like most of our shopping trips, my main objective will be lunch and laughing—a lot.  But I will be looking because I haven’t picked anything up yet (yes, I’m running late). 

I must confess it has been years since I have spent a lot of money on the kids’ Christmas gifts.  I rarely go into the main toy section.  I love my great nieces and nephews but they have huge families and usually make out like bandits. 

In recent years, it has been my mission to find junk—that preferably makes noise—which will last a few months, give the recipient a lot of joy but not be missed when it breaks (or the batteries run out).  A couple of years ago, all the great-nephews received a cheap harmonica.  I expected them to be broken in a month or two.  Almost a year later, my nephew, Jason was fussing about his boys still playing those harmonicas.  I had to laugh.  Especially after Tasha, his wife, pointed at him and said he was the worst offender.

A month ago, I was talking to Noah (son of a friend) about Legos™.  I know my nephews loved them but they went by the wayside when they got big enough to get into sports.  I am well aware that there are people who use Legos™ to create all kinds of things.  I know there are Lego™ movies and that they have a website where you can build a Lego™ world. 

Still… I was in for culture shock.   Noah is addicted to Legos™.  He was on the lego.cuusso website looking at Lego™ projects that individuals have designed and uploaded.  The designs with 10,000 likes are reviewed quarterly and one will be considered for production by Lego™.  When you ‘like’ a project, they asked three questions:  why do you like it, what would you pay for it and how many would you buy.  When I saw the price Noah said he would pay for the ones he supported… Yeah! culture shock. 

Definitely made me leery of the main toy section.  So while everyone else is shopping for that one gift, I’ll be over in the junk section picking up the noisiest things I can find. 

Nothing like the look on the parents’ faces when my gifts are opened. 

Mind Set

Definition:

• A particular way of thinking.
• A person’s attitude or set of opinions about something (or themselves).
• A mental inclination, tendency or habit.

Lately, I have been writing about taking hold of what the Bible says about me instead of what I say about myself.  I have been adjusting my way of thinking but I hadn’t noticed any real changes until this weekend.

Old mind set: 

• I don’t know enough.
• I don’t have the right equipment/tools.
• I don’t have enough money.

Notice the common denominator I?  (Or I could have used the ‘I can’ts’.)  I am pretty sure I know 95% of the ‘I don’ts’ and because of past circumstances, I formed the habit of using them as an excuse about everything (even some things I knew I could do).  I have two friends who have really been nagging me about it.  Evidently, it’s finally started sinking in.

Saturday, I attended the Christian Writer’s Conference at East Texas Baptist University.  I worked in the book shop (thank you very much, Vickie) and sat in on two of the workshops.  As the speakers were talking about the ways they market their books, articles and themselves I thought, I can do that. 

Whoa!!  Talk about radical change.  Of course, this blog was a major step in the right direction.  Still…  Writing a blog from the obscurity of my home is not the same as getting out there and tooting my own horn.  I know I need to do it but…I’m definitely old school when it comes to that. Yet, I self-published my books because even if I had gotten published by a ‘big house’, I would have had to do all my own marketing, anyway.  

So the change?

New mind set (a work in progress):

• What I don’t know, I can learn.
• I have enough to start and can obtain the rest as I go.
• God is my source; He will provide.

I know; ‘bout time.

Holding Patterns

There is nothing worse for a writer than a blank piece of paper.  All that whiteness can be daunting.  Like the sand along the seashore or the sky kissing the ocean, it goes on and on into nothingness.  Like the sheer drop off a mountain cliff with nothing but swirling clouds below.  Like the vast open arctic tundra’s eternity of snow…  I think you get the picture.

Last week, I talked about my dreams having to shift and change.  That I didn't know which way to go but I know Someone who does.  This is where the rubber meets the road because sometimes we have clear direction and sometimes we are in a holding pattern.  From my vast experience, I can tell you that holding patterns are often aggravating, discouraging, and anxiety ladened.  And it can be very annoying to see the same scenery over and over again.  But that’s only if I let it be.  If I choose to rest in God, a holding pattern can be a time of refreshing, slowing down, gathering my strength, learning to appreciate the stillness and hearing His still small voice.

And just like the writer who knows where the story begins, ends and all the pitfalls between, God has my complete life laid out before Him.  Because of where I stand, all I see is sand; He sees the driftwood, seashells and seaweed washed up on shore.  I see sky and ocean; He sees the shark stalking its prey or the dolphin breaching the surface in play.  I see swirling clouds; He sees the soaring eagle and the bounding mountain lion.  I see an eternity of snow; He sees the arctic rabbit and fox.

I am well aware that a lot of my holding patterns were my own fault.  I was there because God was moving over me (where I could not see) to make the crooked path I had created straight so I could, once again, move toward my goal.  Then there are holding patterns like this one.  I did not create it but I’m here. 

After Jesus was crucified, Peter said “I go a fishing’.  We often vilify him for returning to the life he knew before he met Jesus.  But, we need to remember that Jesus had not yet told them to wait in Jerusalem for the baptism of the Holy Spirit.  Nor had He told them to go into all the world and preach the gospel.  Peter knew one thing—Jesus had found him fishing the first time; He would do it again.  Jesus did and the Bible never says He scolded Peter for returning to his boat.

So, like Peter, I will stay here and do what I know to do.  God knows where I am and when the time is right, He will show me the way to go.

Square One

In the blog HOPE, I spoke about waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.  Today’s question, what do you do when it does?

In the past, I would have

1. had a major pity party in the privacy of my home
2. had all joy knocked out of me
3. allowed all hope to fade
4. packed my dreams away in the steel vault of my heart
5. and thought ‘here I am back to square one.’ 

I’m definitely working on #1.  But, 2-4?  No! Not anymore.  My joy is not based on my circumstances; it’s based on my choice.  Same with hope.  My dreams will have to shift, maybe take a different direction but it took me a long time to drag these dreams kicking and screaming out of that deep, dark vault.  I refuse to put them back.

I find it a bit ironic that Sunday morning I asked the ladies’ prayer group to lay hands on me and pray for wisdom, especially where my words are concerned.  It was pow-er-ful.  Then Sunday afternoon, the shoe dropped.   

Psalms 37:4 says, ‘Delight thyself also in the Lord: and He shall give you the desires of your heart’.  I know the desires of my heart (dreams) are from the God.  I have settled that.  I’m not sure where to go from here but I know Someone who does.

So, square one.  I have realized there is no such thing as starting over or being back at square one.  It might look the same, it might feel the same, it might even smell the same but it isn’t.  Why?  Me.  I am never the same.  Especially this time.  I have learned so much and come so far over the last seven years; square one cannot be the same.

Those who know me know how much I hate sudden changes.  Was I prepared for this one? not even faintly.  Will I get past it? definitely. 

Now I see square one for what it really is; a stepping stone in a new direction.  

In Christ Alone

Sunday, a Facebook friend posted a video of David Wesley singing “In Christ Alone” acapella.  He sings every part.  It is awesome.  So at 2:30 Tuesday morning when leg pain set me to walking the floor, I pulled the video up and listened again (at least 10 times).  I had forgotten just how powerful the words are.  It is one of the most comprehensive songs about the Christian life from salvation to death.  I wish you could have been there with me as the presence of God filled my house.  The song speaks for itself so I leave you with the words and a link to the video.

In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone! who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones he came to save:
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave he rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Could ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.

Words & Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend

David Wesley "In Christ Alone"

Sticking with Family

Well, once again it is the wee hours of the morning.  The pain is still there but the attitude is different.  Had a long talk with a friend last night who reminded me that I am a woman of faith.  That might sound like a ‘duh’ statement.  I mean, I have been saved and endeavoring to walk with God for a long time.  But…sometimes, when situations overwhelm us, we need a little reminder of just who we are in Christ. 

That’s where good friends come in and why we need one another so much.  Trying to be an island puts us in a lonely venerable place.  It leaves us open to depression, discouragement and soul gripping loneliness.  Trying to walk out our Christianity alone leaves us open to all kinds of attacks and deception.  That is why the Bible says to not forsake church fellowship, especially in the last days (Hebrews 10:25).

We need good friends who will bear us up, hold up our hands like Aaron and Hur did for Moses in the fight against Amalek (Exodus 17:12).  The kind who will make every step we make like Ruth did for Naomi (Ruth 1:16).  The kind who will sing harmony like Silas did for Paul when neither one of them felt like singing (Acts 1:22-25).   That’s where the church family comes in.

I can hear it now, “But there are so many hypocrites going to that church”.  Maybe, but that doesn’t mean we stop going.  We don’t stop going to the grocery store because there are hypocrites there, do we?  We don’t stop going to work, sporting events or vacations because of hypocrites, do we?  Then why do we think it is a good excuse to skip out on church?

Let me ask this question—are you perfect?  I’m not and every time I walk into my church, I take my imperfections with me.  In my last blog, I said “Have I actually implemented the changes?  Honestly?  Some things, yes; some things, no.”.  Don't the ‘nos’ make me a hypocrite?  

Years ago, Shawn and I were talking about church and he pulled out the hypocrite card.  I ask “Do you think I am a Christian?”  He quickly said “Yes”.  Then I asked “Well, am I perfect?”  He laughed and said “No”.  To which I said, “All those people are just like me.”  I never heard the hypocrite excuse again.

In the church family, we’re all a work in progress.  I need the grace of my church family as I walk out my salvation and they need mine.  I need their encouragement when I hit the rough patches and I need to be encouraging when they are in theirs. 

That’s what families do; we stick together.

Put up or shut up

It’s hard to believe this is my 28^th blog post.  (I know I shouldn’t admit this but) What surprises me most is how much I have enjoyed it.  In my very first blog, I talked about feeling like anything I said would be stupid, who would want to read it…etc.  Now I realize, it doesn’t matter. 

Yes, I would like for my blog to be widely read.  Yes, I would like to receive favorable comments (A big thanks to all who have commented.  They are encouraging).  Yes, I would like for my readers to walk away with something—hope, encouragement, a smile.  But the most important thing is obedience.  I am called to write and blogging is something I should have been doing as soon as I became technologically able. 

Through the years, I have gone from pen and paper to typewriter, word processor and computer.  I have used carbon paper, whiteout and the delete button (a lot).  I’ve gone from snail mail to email to the cloud.  Several things have changed over the years but one thing hasn’t.  I am never more satisfied than when the characters in my head come to life and spill their story out into the world.  It is a bone-deep, soul-hunger satisfaction. 

Do I get frustrated when my characters want to go a different direction than I was planning?  Certainly!  Staring at a blank screen while waiting for them to decide what comes next is never a good place to be (arguing never helps).  Are there times when the business of writing seems overwhelming?  Absolutely.  But none of that alters the satisfaction.

So, where does the put up or shut up come in?  In this blog, I have been chronicling the changes in my life in the last two years.  Most of them lead to an ‘I need to change’ decision. Have I actually implemented the changes?  Honestly?  Some things, yes; some things, no.

These last few weeks, lack of sleep and pain have been my constant companion.  Once again, I was walking the floor at 3:30 a.m. speaking scriptures over myself and God brought to mind some of my blogs.  It was an ah-hah moment.  In the past, when I hit a wall like this I would back down (shut up); not believe I could overcome or was good enough for God to move in my behalf.   

He asked one simple question; ‘This time, are you ready to move on?’ (put up). 

The move is on.

Hope

Hope—a wish or desire accompanied by 

confident expectation of its fulfillment.

Hope is a huge word full of promise.  It has infinite ripple effects in our lives.  When we see a future; a light at the end of the tunnel; that this too shall pass, it gives us the strength to carry on.  Hope is infectious, contagious, always beneficial.  One ray of hope will spread and others will gain strength from it.

Hopelessness is also a huge word but it is devoid of promise.  It, too, has infinite ripple effects in our lives.  It is also infectious and contagious but it is never beneficial.  When all we see is darkness ahead; that nothing will change; a mind numbing never-ending sameness, it saps us of all energy for life.

We cannot control outside forces.  This is a common statement but do we really take it to heart?  Or are we still inclined to blame fate or karma (or God) for our circumstances?

This question has been on my mind lately.  In the past 6 years, my life has changed a lot (a lot, a lot, a lot).  Most of the changes have been good.  I have lost weight, published 2 books, moved into a newer trailer and made a few forever friends. 

Still…past experience has taught me that none of it will last, none of it will matter in the end, all of it will slowly fade along with all my dreams.  Fatalistic, right? and a major downer (see, told you I had drama queen tendencies).  Carole (ex-mother-in-law, good friend) has been fussing at me lately because of it (God’s been on my case about it, too).  In our last conversation I realized that although all of these good things have happened, I was waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.  I also realized that trying to encourage others when there is no true hope in me has a hollow ring to it that they can clearly hear.  I’ve heard it myself from others. 

1 Peter 3:15 says, But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asks you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.

I’m sorry to say that no one has asked me that question lately.  It’s time to change that.

Rest

I was going to write on hope this week.  I even started the blog but it is now 3:49 in the morning and plans have changed.  Needless to say, it has been a rough night.  Won’t go into it because that’s not the important part.

God has really been dealing with me about entering into His rest.  About eight years ago, He began dealing with me about fear.  I had no idea that pretty much my whole life was controlled by fear.  At every turn, the Spirit was pointing it out.  I mean at every turn. 

Thought I had dealt with it.  Yes, there are still times the Spirit will ask ‘Why did you make that decision?’  I back up, look at it, correct it and go on.  I really thought I was doing a lot better but…this rest thing is taking me to a whole new level.

As I lay in bed, I started singing the old chorus “What a Healing Jesus”.  Then, sang it while walking the floor.  Finally, sat down at the piano and accompanied myself.  After a while, I pulled out the hymnal and turned to “Wonderful Peace” by Cornell and Cooper. 

Far away in the depths of my spirit tonight rolls a melody sweeter than psalms. 

In celestial like strains it unceasingly falls o’er my soul like an infinite calm.

Peace, peace, wonderful peace coming down from the Father above.

Sweep over my spirit forever I pray, in fathomless billow of love.

Flowed into “Trust in Jesus” by Stead and Kirkpatrick. 

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, just to take Him at His word,

Just to rest upon His promise, just to know thus saith the Lord

I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee, Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend

And I know that Thou art with me, will be with me to the end

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him, how I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er

Jesus, Jesus, Precious Jesus, oh for grace to trust Him more

I love all types of Christian music but sometimes the old hymns say it best.  The only place of true peace is true rest.  The only place of true rest is true trust.  

Bucket List

Tuesday night was my writers' meeting.  When I got home and stepped out of the car, the sky was covered with a blanket of stars.  Spent some time just admiring it. 

It brought to mind “How Great Thou Art” and how it fits into my bucket list.  The first verse says ‘I see the stars’.  I can walk outside most nights and sing that part with no problem.  It also says ‘I hear the rolling thunder’.  I have stood outside while the thunder rolled and sang that part.  ‘When through the woods and forest glades I wander’—no problem there.   Then we come to ‘when I look down from lofty mountain grandeur and see the brook and feel the gentle breeze’. 

I have been over a few mountains.  One time coming home from Bible school, we stopped in the Oklahoma hills to take a break.  In the green valley below, there was a brook meandering through a few trees—very peaceful. The view brought those words to mind and I sang all four verses.  It was a moment.

But…when I think of lofty mountain grandeur, I think of the Rockies or the Appalachians.  Which brings us back to my bucket list.  I have always wanted to stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon and sing “How Great Thou Art”.  My fondness for singing has already been well documented in these blogs along with my penchant for singing anywhere.  I don’t care how many people are there, I am going to sing from the bottom of my diaphragm (that’s why I’ll probably have to go by myself).

“How Great Thou Art” has always been a ‘go to’ song for me when I am down or troubled.  The bigness of the words draw me out of myself and reminds me that if God can create all of this beauty, He can handle my troubles.