ABC's of Faith

“Abide in Me, and I in you. For a branch cannot produce if it is severed from the vine...”  John 15:4

“Behold, He comes with the clouds and every eye will see Him…”  Rev. 1:7

“This is My Commandment, that you love one another…”  John 15:12

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good...”   Romans 12:21

“So that at the name of Jesus Every knee will bow…and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord…”  Philippians 2:10

“For we are to God the sweet Fragrance of Christ…”  2 Corinthians 2:15

“Where sin abounds, Grace much more abounds...”  Romans 5:20

“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty…”  Psalm 91:1

“…I AM THE ONE WHO ALWAYS IS…”  Exodus 3:14

“…that My Joy might remain in you and that your joy might be full…”  John 15:11

“On His robe and thigh was written this title:  King of kings and Lord of lords…”  Rev. 19:16

“Perfect Love casts out all fear...”  1 John 4:18

“…all things were Made by Him. Nothing exists that He did not make...”   John 1:3

“Nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God”  Romans 8:39

“…take captive every thought to the Obedience of Christ…”  2 Corinthians 10:5

“Pour out your heart before Him, for God is our refuge…”  Psalm 62:8

“He will Quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing…”  Zephaniah 3:17

“...Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft...”  1 Samuel 15:23

“Be Still, and know that I am God…”  Psalm 46:10

“I rejoice in Your Word like one who finds a great Treasure…”  Psalm 119:162

“Lord I believe, help my Unbelief...”  Mark 9:24

“…despite all these things, overwhelming Victory is ours through Christ, who loved us…”  Romans 8:37

“Weeping may go on all night, but joy comes in the morning...”  Psalm 30:5

“King Xerxes was so delighted with her (Esther) that he set the royal crown on her head and declared her queen…”  Esther 2:17

“Do not be unequally Yoked together with unbelievers…for what communion has light with darkness?”  2 Corinthians 6:14

“When Jesus came by, He looked up at Zacchaeus and called him by name…”  Luke 19:5

The Little Red Hen

I love chickens!  Last April, we took a trip to Canton just to purchase chickens.  I have 1 Rhode Island Red hen (The Little Red Hen), 2 Barred Plymouth Rock hens (Henny Penny & Goosie Lucy), 1 Wyandotte hen (Nellie), and 1 Wyandotte rooster (Papa).  It's been fun watching them grow up and seeing how different their personalities are.  The 2 Barred Rocks are very sweet; they'll eat right out of your hand.  The Little Red Hen lays the most eggs but is very shy.  Nellie keeps to herself.  Papa seems even-tempered, at least at this point, and walks very proud as he crows off and on all day long.

I noticed a week or so ago that a couple of the hens were missing some feathers; it was molting season so I didn’t think anything of it at first.  Within 24 hours, The Little Red Hen’s head was almost completely bald and her neck was bleeding.  Not knowing who the attacker was at the time, I moved her into the hen house and shut the door to the others.  After a couple of days, I noticed blood on the ground in the chicken yard.  Our yellow Orpington, Henrietta, had a huge hole in her side; she was so weak, we had to put her down.  My son pointed out the offending hen (a Wyandotte named Geraldine) so we put her down, too; I won’t have animals that are destructive.

It has been a long time since I last raised chickens, so before going to Canton, I did a lot of research on the internet.  One of the things I found was an article that addressed the issue of chickens pecking at one another.  Apparently there are many reasons for this behavior; in our case, it was simply that they were bored.  The article said that some chickens will peck at each other until they draw blood.  It also said that chickens will “…go berserk at the site of blood…it sends them into a frenzy” and they keep at it until the poor chicken finally dies.  Wow!

As Christians, we can go at each other on occasion just like chickens do.  And once we get our momentum going, get that taste of blood, we can’t seem to stop.  There is no hurt that cuts deeper than the hurt that comes from a brother or sister in Christ.  God has to be ashamed of us; I know I am.  We have got to fix this!  We have got to learn to love one another!  We have got to get this right!

Romans 12:10 says, “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.  Honor one another above yourselves.”

Those words “devoted” and “honor” mean to be completely dedicated to each other and to highly respect one another – “above yourselves”!   I wonder if that’s the problem, the “above yourselves” part?  Look at our society.  In many homes, both parents work (certainly single moms or dads do).  As soon as you get off work, you have to take Susie/Bobby to ball practice.  After practice, Susie has to go to dance and Bobby to Taekwondo.  Then it’s pick up Sonic on your way home, do 3 hours of homework, baths, then bed.  “When?”   That’s the question we’re asking - when do we have time to put anyone else ahead of ourselves?  Maybe the question we should really be asking is what can I delete from my schedule that will allow me more time with God, more time with my family, and more time to invest in the lives of others?  Maybe we should take another look at our priorities.  Dance, sports, music, etc. are not eternal.  Our personal relationship with God is eternal.  Relationships with family and friends – those are eternal. Leading others to Christ –eternal.  Ministry – eternal.

It’s hard to invest in something or someone when you have nothing left to invest.

In Romans 12:16, Paul says, “Live in harmony with one another.”  There is nothing more beautiful than perfectly harmonized voices; we could listen to them all day long.  These vocalists are committed/devoted to rigid practice schedules.  It’s these rigid practice schedules that are responsible for those perfectly harmonized voices.  Paul is not saying, “Gee, I would really like it if y’all would live in one accord.”  No, he’s saying, “Just do it!”  Live in one accord, in unity, perfectly balancing and complimenting one another; be dedicated and respectful to each other.  We need to be willing to work at our relationships; willing to make time for one another; willing to invest in each other’s lives. 

Someone once said, “A family in harmony will prosper in everything.” 

The Little Red Hen’s feathers are slowly but surely starting to grow back now, and she has once again begun to lay eggs, but she won’t leave the hen house.  She won’t even go out for food and water; I’ve had to put food and water inside for her.  She’s afraid of being hurt again; this experience has changed her.  I have to tell you that I have been snatched bald-headed a time or two myself.  I totally get it; it changed me, too.  Some people, however, leave the church and never return.  It’s sad that we can be so cruel.  Churches are being destroyed from the inside out.  The ugliness is overflowing into the streets for all to see.  We cannot be devoted, honoring, or in unity if we’re chasing each other around the hen house!

We are supposed to be light in a dark world, a city on a hill. 

We are supposed to be - the mirror image of Christ. 

Seasons

Have you ever noticed how the weather can affect our mood?  When the sun’s out and there’s a slight nip in the air we feel like we’ve got to get out and go do something; work in the yard, go for a walk or a drive.  Even the dog goes crazy when I let her outside, running and jumping and rolling around.  But on rainy days, we want to curl up with a good book or take a nap.  What a blessing days like today are.  The air is clear, the sky is so blue, and the sun is shining – beautiful!

Spring is slowly, but surely, making its way to my part of the world.  The flowers and trees have begun to bloom, temperatures are becoming warmer and everyone’s spirit is a little bit brighter.  I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who doesn’t like spring.  Wal-Mart, Lowe’s, and Home Depot parking lots are filling up with mulch, potting soil, rock, flowers, and plants; yes, spring is in the air!

You may not have ever thought about it in this way before but we, too, go through seasons in our personal/spiritual lives.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, “There’s a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven…a time to be born and a time to die…a time to plant and a time to harvest…a time to cry and a time to laugh…”

Listen, I’ve been through some seasons that were so rough, so physically, emotionally, and spiritually taxing that I thought I might not make it.  The valleys can be really deep sometimes, but I can testify that every mountain top experience I have ever had has matched the valley I just came out of 2 to 1.  God has always, always been faithful! 

When we were younger, my husband hated the thought of growing older.  I honestly thought God was going to have to drag him there kicking and screaming.  I, on the other hand, have always looked forward to getting older; slowing down, relaxing in my rocker on the porch, less responsibility, senior citizen discounts…Well, I finally made it!  I’m in the winter of my life and I’m a grandmother.  I cannot ever remember a sweeter season.  People always said, “Oh, wait till you become a grandparent!” like it’s some kind of prize – well, I’m here to testify that it is!!  I have said many times to others that this is what I was created for – being a grandmother.  It doesn’t matter how bad I feel or how rotten my day was, my grandchildren can put a smile on my face and a warm glow in my heart.

Sometimes I think we should wait to have our children when we are in our 40’s and 50’s because with age comes wisdom – and patience.  But then I take a closer look and I realize that God gives us an opportunity to share our latter years with this blessing of unspeakable joy we know as grandchildren.  It’s because the pace is slower that I have more time to study them, to listen to them, to love on them when they’re here.  I look at it as a kind of temporal reward that we receive for just surviving this far.  Certainly it’s not eternal but it surely has eternal significance. 

One of the greatest joys I am experiencing is the talks I am able to have with my grandchildren about God; about who He is and who they are in Him.  I don’t want to ever forget the feeling I had the first time I saw my youngest grandson fold his hands to pray at the dinner table; it was the most precious thing in the world.  During the first Bible study my only granddaughter and I had, I was able to teach her that she is the child of a King; this is a lesson most women don’t get until they’re grown.  And burned in my heart forever is the memory of my oldest grandson sobbing because his father told him he doesn’t believe in God.  What a special opportunity God gave us to pray with him about this burden no small child should ever have to bear.  I know that the older they get, the sweeter our conversations will become; it is a time I am so looking forward to. 

The moral of this story, if there is one, is that the seasons change and we along with them.  Most things that appear dead in winter are resurrected in spring and each spring is more beautiful than the last.  Life does go on and we must not waste a single day of it.

“God has made everything beautiful for its own time…”  Ecclesiastes 3:11

The Prodigal Son's Mother

Nowhere in Luke 15:11-32, does it mention the mother of the prodigal son.  Where was she?  Was she in the fields, gathering wheat?  Was she on one of her many treks to town to fetch water from the common well?  Had she passed away early in her life from sickness?  If she had been at the house the day this story began, she would have told the father that it would be a mistake to give the boys their inheritance early; for a mother knows the hearts of her children.  She knows the one that can be trusted, the one who is lazy, the one who is kind, and the one who is cruel.  She would have seen how this was all going to play out from the beginning.  (Do I get a witness from the “mom” section?)

The Bible says the father saw his son from a distance.  If we are to read between the lines, we imagine the father staring down the road day after day after day, watching and waiting for his son to come home.  Where was the mother?  If she was anything like me, she was going about her business washing, cleaning, cooking, sewing, and teaching the children she had left.  But hiding in the secret places of her heart would be a longing, an aching for the child she lost so long ago.  Even though her life seems full with children and grandchildren, there would still be emptiness. Unlike the father, she could not have looked down the road day after day because the sight of that empty road would remind her of the emptiness in her heart; she had to keep moving.

When the father saw the son coming up the road, the Bible says, he “had compassion on him, and ran to him and embraced him, and kissed him.”  The next verse we read is that of the son asking his father for forgiveness. The Bible doesn’t speak of it, but if the mother were there, I believe the first face the son would have wanted to see was the mother’s.  There would be time later for confession.  There is a special connection between a mother and her son; likewise, between a father and his daughter.  No matter how bad the relationship may be, that connection still exists.  And while the father wanted to kill the fatted calf and throw a party, the mother would have wanted to sit quietly, holding her child in her arms.  She would have spent time looking in his eyes, stroking his hair, kissing his cheeks.  No words would be exchanged and no apologies necessary, just time spent soaking up the love in the room and thanking God for restoring the years the locusts had eaten.

Liquid Paper

When I was in high school, I took some kind of business class where they taught us, among other things, how to type. I remember having this big, fat, pencil-looking thing with an eraser on one end and a brush of some sort on the other; we were to use this to erase our mistakes.  As hard as I tried, I never could use that eraser properly.  My paper always came out looking like it had been run over by a garbage truck. 

In 1956, Bette Nesmith Graham invented Liquid PaperÒ; it was originally called Mistake Out. I'm sure secretaries everywhere were rejoicing and singing her praises. However, my personal experience with Bette's exciting new product wasn’t as fool-proof as I had hoped.  I still ended up with a paper full of uneven white stripes as well as a few blobs of white goo here and there.  No matter what I did, I couldn’t cover up my mistakes without making an even bigger mess. 

Sadly, our personal mistakes are not so easily covered up.  Even if no one else can see them, we know they're there and God knows they're there.  Liquid PaperÒ corrects instantly the mistakes we make on paper, however all the erasers and correction tape in the world can’t cover up a life of sin.  You can be sure that anything you try to substitute for God will be torn down. There’s only one thing that can correct a lifetime of mistakes – the blood of Christ (1 John 1:7).  My life has, at times, looked much like my papers did when I was in high school; smudges of ink combined with bits of rubber eraser, and small worn places (even holes) from rubbing so hard to get the mistakes out.  When I finally fell on my knees before the Lord, “He lifted me out of the pit of despair...set my feet on solid ground...and gave me a new song to sing." (Psalm 40)  Hallelujah!

Do I still make mistakes?  Of course I do. But in my personal life, instead of reaching for the Liquid PaperÒ, I reach for Jesus.

*Fun Fact For Floyd: Bette Nesmith Graham was the mother of Michael Nesmith of the Monkees.

Who Do You Think You Are?

Researching my family on ancestry.com is one of the things I dabble in now and then so when the show Who Do You Think You Are? came out, it was right up my alley. One of my favorite things about this kind of research is finding something in a family member’s own handwriting; it seems more personal somehow than a type written note or name.

 I have a cookbook and a couple of handwritten notes that belonged to my grandmother; I even have her famous watermelon rind preserves and divinity recipes framed and hanging in my kitchen. I can remember her sitting at the dining room table writing letters to friends. It seemed that two or three times a week, a letter arrived for her and she would waste no time in answering it. Letters came in and letters went out for as long as I can remember. Friends she had known since she was a girl, cousins, aunts…scattered all over the state. Handwritten letters are a lost art form. There’s something particularly beautiful about the handwriting of someone you have loved and lost, no matter how bad their penmanship was. My grandmother’s handwriting was shaky, even when she was younger. She used the traditional penmanship that I’m sure she was taught in school; the same penmanship her daughter, my mother, was taught. I know my grandmother’s writing.  I could pick it out of a hundred letters. She signed all of my report cards and wrote all of my sick notes. She signed every birthday card and wrote letters to me every week when I moved away from home. Each stroke of the pen spelled love to me, even when she was only talking about the weather.  As a young wife and mother so far away from home, just seeing her handwriting on those pages gave me great comfort.

There are volumes and volumes of books in archives all over the world to help us find out where we come from and who we really are, but there’s only one book that matters.  If my name is not found in the Lamb’s Book of Life, who I am in this life isn't relevant.  Where I came from, who my parents were, what I did for a living, how many Sundays I spent in church or how much money I gave – none of this means a thing.  Because my name is written with the hand of God, in the blood of Christ, in the only book that matters, I don’t have to wonder who I am.  I know.  I’m a child of God.