Saturday, November 16, 2013
11/16/13
Howdy all. It's Saturday, November 16th. Rainy. Warm. Glad to have internet again.
Still my favorite song. (A Mighty Fortress runs a very close second!)
Needed this song today and the verses they refer to.
How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said—
To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?
“Fear not, I am with thee, oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by My gracious, omnipotent hand.
“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
For I will be with thee thy trouble to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
“When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not harm thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.
“The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose,
I will not, I will not, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”
Signing off. Sharon
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
WELCOME HOME, LYLE!
Yesterday I received a voice mail from the son of one of my folk at Heritage Woods in Rockford. He asked me to call him back. Something must be wrong, I assumed...Lyle is very ill or Lyle has died. Lyle died yesterday. (I was so sad that I had not been able to visit him at the end...thanks to HIPAA laws.) His son asked me to handle the funeral service. I said yes. This is why.
At my first or second meeting at Heritage, back in 2009, my Bible lesson was on the words of Jesus, "I am the Bread of Life. He that comes to Me will never hunger." Of course, I also talked about John 3:16 and John 11:25, 26. At the end, I asked if there was anyone who wasn't sure they would go to heaven when they die and would like to talk with me and pray with me. Lyle's hand was the first to shoot up.
He prayed a simple prayer that night and put his faith in Jesus Christ for salvation and eternal life. Lyle continued to come to the twice-a-month meetings from then on. Sometimes he was struggling healthwise and didn't come, but he was very, very faithful.
I had a special place in my heart for him, for two reasons, I think: First of all, he was one of the first who came to Jesus Christ at that home, and second, because he was an all-American male who was not afraid to identify with Jesus. Lots of women come to the meetings; not many men, mostly because the women just outlast the men! But even at that, Lyle, along with five or six other men have been courageous enough to come and sing the old hymns and listen to the lessons from the Word of God, and to learn more about our great God and the Bible.
Based upon John 3:16..."whosoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life..." --Lyle Smith has left us and gone to heaven to be with Jesus. I will see him again. Praise be to God.
Yesterday I received a voice mail from the son of one of my folk at Heritage Woods in Rockford. He asked me to call him back. Something must be wrong, I assumed...Lyle is very ill or Lyle has died. Lyle died yesterday. (I was so sad that I had not been able to visit him at the end...thanks to HIPAA laws.) His son asked me to handle the funeral service. I said yes. This is why.
At my first or second meeting at Heritage, back in 2009, my Bible lesson was on the words of Jesus, "I am the Bread of Life. He that comes to Me will never hunger." Of course, I also talked about John 3:16 and John 11:25, 26. At the end, I asked if there was anyone who wasn't sure they would go to heaven when they die and would like to talk with me and pray with me. Lyle's hand was the first to shoot up.
He prayed a simple prayer that night and put his faith in Jesus Christ for salvation and eternal life. Lyle continued to come to the twice-a-month meetings from then on. Sometimes he was struggling healthwise and didn't come, but he was very, very faithful.
I had a special place in my heart for him, for two reasons, I think: First of all, he was one of the first who came to Jesus Christ at that home, and second, because he was an all-American male who was not afraid to identify with Jesus. Lots of women come to the meetings; not many men, mostly because the women just outlast the men! But even at that, Lyle, along with five or six other men have been courageous enough to come and sing the old hymns and listen to the lessons from the Word of God, and to learn more about our great God and the Bible.
Based upon John 3:16..."whosoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life..." --Lyle Smith has left us and gone to heaven to be with Jesus. I will see him again. Praise be to God.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Friday, July 13, 2012
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
LIFE IS NOT ALL ABOUT YOU
And what’s more, life is not about you, period. Life is about everyone else. Life is about others. Life is only about you in the eyes of God and in His “big picture.”
In my opinion, this is the meaning of meekness. On a particular day many years ago, the definition of this difficult-to-put-in-words trait was taught to me in a way that would remain with me the rest of my life.
We lived five long miles out in the country. Money was scarce. Relationships were tested often. Raising five children was sometimes hard. We were tired from working and tired from being busy. To top it all off, not always did we act the way we should.
One day after church, we stopped at a local chicken place, picked up a family pack we could afford and headed for home. It was nice not to have to cook, but I was very aware that it was really not enough chicken for us.
Close to home, actually in view of our house, we encountered a disabled car by the side of the road. Two young men were only partly visible under the hood. Ken stopped the car and got out to inquire if he could be of help. After a few minutes, he stuck his head in to announce he could not fix it and that he had asked the boys to come in for dinner with us. I was not happy.
So, the nine of us went home and I began to get things ready. In a not-so-nice mood I took the bull by the horns and began to do my best to “expand” the meal and to maintain a façade of a happy family. When it came time to sit down, everyone scrambled around the table and sat down. As I walked from the refrigerator to the table, I could see that there was no chair for me. I was even more unhappy than I had been before.
Hiding my anger for the sake of our guests, I told the family to go ahead and eat. I needed to go lie down. Flopping down on the bed, facedown, I cried bitter tears. It was not just this incident. It was an atmosphere. It was not the first time I felt used and forgotten and mistreated by the kids and Ken. I was so angry that not one of them had the courtesy to see if everyone had a chair, especially Mom.
But, as I laid there on the bed, God spoke to me. I did not hear a voice, but He “whispered” in my ear, “Life is not about you. It’s about Me and my big picture. It’s about others. What’s important here is My big picture.” What He said was absolutely correct, and I knew it. Up I got from the bed. Off I went to the bathroom to throw cold water on my eyes. And out I went to the kitchen.
In my inner spirit, it became very clear to me that I had just been taught the meaning of the word meekness. It’s caring only about what God wants, and at the Heldman house that day, it was hospitality and unity and peace that was important to Him. It was not the time to teach a lesson in manners or to show my, perhaps justified, anger. It was time for meekness.
The meal went well. Except for the remains of the red around my eyes, there was no sign of trouble. I don’t remember what happened to the boys, but I bet we took care of them. The day was not about me. It was about them, about my husband and my kids. It was about learning the heart of God on the subject of meekness.
(Too bad I hadn't learned that lesson beforehand...how much simpler it would have been to quietly and cheerfully retrieve a chair from the other room...or even just ask someone to do it for me. If you want peace and joy in your life, that's what you have to do.)
January 2006
In my opinion, this is the meaning of meekness. On a particular day many years ago, the definition of this difficult-to-put-in-words trait was taught to me in a way that would remain with me the rest of my life.
We lived five long miles out in the country. Money was scarce. Relationships were tested often. Raising five children was sometimes hard. We were tired from working and tired from being busy. To top it all off, not always did we act the way we should.
One day after church, we stopped at a local chicken place, picked up a family pack we could afford and headed for home. It was nice not to have to cook, but I was very aware that it was really not enough chicken for us.
Close to home, actually in view of our house, we encountered a disabled car by the side of the road. Two young men were only partly visible under the hood. Ken stopped the car and got out to inquire if he could be of help. After a few minutes, he stuck his head in to announce he could not fix it and that he had asked the boys to come in for dinner with us. I was not happy.
So, the nine of us went home and I began to get things ready. In a not-so-nice mood I took the bull by the horns and began to do my best to “expand” the meal and to maintain a façade of a happy family. When it came time to sit down, everyone scrambled around the table and sat down. As I walked from the refrigerator to the table, I could see that there was no chair for me. I was even more unhappy than I had been before.
Hiding my anger for the sake of our guests, I told the family to go ahead and eat. I needed to go lie down. Flopping down on the bed, facedown, I cried bitter tears. It was not just this incident. It was an atmosphere. It was not the first time I felt used and forgotten and mistreated by the kids and Ken. I was so angry that not one of them had the courtesy to see if everyone had a chair, especially Mom.
But, as I laid there on the bed, God spoke to me. I did not hear a voice, but He “whispered” in my ear, “Life is not about you. It’s about Me and my big picture. It’s about others. What’s important here is My big picture.” What He said was absolutely correct, and I knew it. Up I got from the bed. Off I went to the bathroom to throw cold water on my eyes. And out I went to the kitchen.
In my inner spirit, it became very clear to me that I had just been taught the meaning of the word meekness. It’s caring only about what God wants, and at the Heldman house that day, it was hospitality and unity and peace that was important to Him. It was not the time to teach a lesson in manners or to show my, perhaps justified, anger. It was time for meekness.
The meal went well. Except for the remains of the red around my eyes, there was no sign of trouble. I don’t remember what happened to the boys, but I bet we took care of them. The day was not about me. It was about them, about my husband and my kids. It was about learning the heart of God on the subject of meekness.
(Too bad I hadn't learned that lesson beforehand...how much simpler it would have been to quietly and cheerfully retrieve a chair from the other room...or even just ask someone to do it for me. If you want peace and joy in your life, that's what you have to do.)
January 2006
Monday, August 1, 2011
NO FISHING!
How crafty is the devil, constantly stirring up the muddy waters of our sins of the past! He uses any means to do so...our minds, a photograph, a movie, a dream, a friend, a relative, a letter...just about anything.
BUT...How awesome is God, filling His Word with countless affirmations of the absoluteness of His forgiveness! Throughout the Old Testament, He establishes the truth that He is merciful, abounding in love, gracious, forgiving; in the New Testament, we find that truth again, reinforced by the words about Jesus, "...in Whom we have redemption through His blood, even the forgiveness of sin."
God's forgiveness is complete and perfect; there are no superlatives needed for either of those two descriptors. It is our unwillingness to look Him straight in the eye and say, "I believe You," that holds us back.
I've sinned...little and big. After an era in my life when my heart had been cold and rebellious (though very few knew that it was so), I wrote this song. I sing it to myself sometimes. Sometimes I sing it to the Lord. And sometimes, I even sing it to the devil! Each line is a direct quote from the Scriptures.
So, stay away, all that would send me back to wallowing in my wickedness of the past!
"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."
I John 1:9
AS FAR AS THE EAST IS FROM THE WEST
As far as the east is from the west, so far have my transgressions been removed.
They are buried in the depths of the deepest sea, (NO FISHING!), never to be remembered anymore!
As a thick cloud covering the sky above, so has God blotted out my sin and shame...
Cast behind His back, mercifully forgiven, through the power of Jesus' name!
Lord, I'm clinging to Your Word, and to Your faithfulness and justice to forgive,
Believing that my sin is truly gone, that Your precious blood is cleansing as I live!
Come now, and let us reason, saith the Lord, though your sins be scarlet they shall be as snow
Though they be as crimson they shall be as wool, they are nailed to His cross I know!
He hath made Him to be sin, who knew no sin, now the righteousness of God I am.
He hath clothed me in fine linen, fine linen clean and white, washed in the blood of the Lamb!
Lord, I'm clinging to Your Word, and to Your faithfulness and justice to forgive,
Believing that my sin is truly gone and that Your precious blood is cleansing as I live!
As far as the east is from the west, so far have my transgressions been removed!
They are buried in the depths of the deepest sea...never to be remembered anymore!
BUT...How awesome is God, filling His Word with countless affirmations of the absoluteness of His forgiveness! Throughout the Old Testament, He establishes the truth that He is merciful, abounding in love, gracious, forgiving; in the New Testament, we find that truth again, reinforced by the words about Jesus, "...in Whom we have redemption through His blood, even the forgiveness of sin."
God's forgiveness is complete and perfect; there are no superlatives needed for either of those two descriptors. It is our unwillingness to look Him straight in the eye and say, "I believe You," that holds us back.
I've sinned...little and big. After an era in my life when my heart had been cold and rebellious (though very few knew that it was so), I wrote this song. I sing it to myself sometimes. Sometimes I sing it to the Lord. And sometimes, I even sing it to the devil! Each line is a direct quote from the Scriptures.
So, stay away, all that would send me back to wallowing in my wickedness of the past!
"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."
I John 1:9
AS FAR AS THE EAST IS FROM THE WEST
As far as the east is from the west, so far have my transgressions been removed.
They are buried in the depths of the deepest sea, (NO FISHING!), never to be remembered anymore!
As a thick cloud covering the sky above, so has God blotted out my sin and shame...
Cast behind His back, mercifully forgiven, through the power of Jesus' name!
Lord, I'm clinging to Your Word, and to Your faithfulness and justice to forgive,
Believing that my sin is truly gone, that Your precious blood is cleansing as I live!
Come now, and let us reason, saith the Lord, though your sins be scarlet they shall be as snow
Though they be as crimson they shall be as wool, they are nailed to His cross I know!
He hath made Him to be sin, who knew no sin, now the righteousness of God I am.
He hath clothed me in fine linen, fine linen clean and white, washed in the blood of the Lamb!
Lord, I'm clinging to Your Word, and to Your faithfulness and justice to forgive,
Believing that my sin is truly gone and that Your precious blood is cleansing as I live!
As far as the east is from the west, so far have my transgressions been removed!
They are buried in the depths of the deepest sea...never to be remembered anymore!
Saturday, July 9, 2011
SOMETIMES YOU DON'T GET A SECOND CHANCE
(written in 2008)
This will not be a long post. It is the 9th of January and in a moment of resting on my day off, I took time to think about my last day with Ken. Two years has whizzed by, life taking me on a whirlwind trip wherein time to grieve with quality has been scarce. Today I detemined to give concentrated thought to the last day that Ken and I spent together. Moments, incidents, words, attitudes, emotions, aches and pains, and joys started showing up on the little screen in my mind; but one thing sparkled through more than anything...the way I treated my spouse on his last day on earth.
In the back of my mind, I always hoped that my behavior prior to Ken's death would be sterling, if God were to call him home. August 31, 2006 was a bear of a day. We were suffering the regular pains of packing and moving as well as those of having procrastinated during the weeks before our move. Add to that the weariness of dealing with Ken's lifestyle of saving everything to do with building with the hopes of using it for a project...which he often did. Those of us at the house that day were tired and Ken and I at our ages were feeling it especially.
I was running on nerve energy. We had sandwiched four trips to Petersburg in between packing and tossing and cleaning. Our days were sun-up to midnight. I remember flying about doing what had to be done, knowing that the next day, closing day, would allow no more work to be done.
As I laid on my bed today, pondering, smiling, choking up, remembering, the only thing that gave me peace was thinking about how much I loved Ken and that I was SO glad I had treated him lovingly that day. I'm glad I wiped his face with a cool wet towel as he finished up packing little things in the garage. He said, "Oh, that felt so good. Thank you, Honey Bear." I'm glad that I saw that he was overwhelmed about six o'clock that night and that I helped him think through a good plan for dealing with the pesky last 50 things. I remember that he looked at me with gratitude and agreement. I'm glad that I didn't get mad at him when he carelessly hurt my finger, but instead just lightly mentioned it to him. It gave him the opportunity to pull me close and tell me in so many words that he would never hurt me...he called me his "sweetheart."
I'm glad that I called him from the motel, knowing that his knees always bothered him and especially that day after all the hard work, to tell him there was no elevator. "Is that going to be okay or should I check across the street?" I asked. He said it would be okay. One of my most vivid memories is turning to see him a couple of stairs behind me, making sure he was all right.
I'm glad that although I was laid flat myself that I lovingly urged him to take a shower even though he was so tired. And a seemingly little thing at the time, I'm glad I assured him that I would take care of his dirty clothes that were a concern to him.
I regret that there was not an instant red flag when Ken said, "I'm just so short of breath." I figured he was worn out and in my heart I was filled with joy that soon he would be able to rest and really retire...which happened in the greatest sense of the words. Yet, I wish I would have put him first and said, "Nuts" to the move.
And...lastly...I wish my whole heart that I would have dragged my weary body from the queen bed where I had fallen upon arriving in the room, to where he was--all propped up on his pillows, showered, glad to be prostrate, --and hugged and kissed him goodnight. I will always have the memory of him with his hands behind his head, resting, and off to sleep in two minutes. I wish that I had stroked his head and kissed his cheek.
Yet, God has blessed me with peace because I know my heart was pure and right towards Ken. How I loved him! How joyful I was that he would soon be in a place that he loved and could start on all his plans for the farmhouse! How thankful I am that God worked in my heart our whole marriage bringing me to where He desires for wives to be, and how thankful I am that the last eight or ten years, He had turned me completely around to adore my husband and recognize that I was married to a great man.
Don't be deceived...this kind of thinking applies to siblings and parents and friends. Our subconscious assumption is that there is still time to make things right; but we really have no guarantees. God leaves no doubts about how He feels on the subject. Unity, forgiveness, servanthood, loving "in deed and in truth" take up a lot more room in the Bible than "thou shalt not smoke." It is God's heart for us to love others better than ourselves.
How glad I am that the memories from that day are ones of love and support to Ken!
This will not be a long post. It is the 9th of January and in a moment of resting on my day off, I took time to think about my last day with Ken. Two years has whizzed by, life taking me on a whirlwind trip wherein time to grieve with quality has been scarce. Today I detemined to give concentrated thought to the last day that Ken and I spent together. Moments, incidents, words, attitudes, emotions, aches and pains, and joys started showing up on the little screen in my mind; but one thing sparkled through more than anything...the way I treated my spouse on his last day on earth.
In the back of my mind, I always hoped that my behavior prior to Ken's death would be sterling, if God were to call him home. August 31, 2006 was a bear of a day. We were suffering the regular pains of packing and moving as well as those of having procrastinated during the weeks before our move. Add to that the weariness of dealing with Ken's lifestyle of saving everything to do with building with the hopes of using it for a project...which he often did. Those of us at the house that day were tired and Ken and I at our ages were feeling it especially.
I was running on nerve energy. We had sandwiched four trips to Petersburg in between packing and tossing and cleaning. Our days were sun-up to midnight. I remember flying about doing what had to be done, knowing that the next day, closing day, would allow no more work to be done.
As I laid on my bed today, pondering, smiling, choking up, remembering, the only thing that gave me peace was thinking about how much I loved Ken and that I was SO glad I had treated him lovingly that day. I'm glad I wiped his face with a cool wet towel as he finished up packing little things in the garage. He said, "Oh, that felt so good. Thank you, Honey Bear." I'm glad that I saw that he was overwhelmed about six o'clock that night and that I helped him think through a good plan for dealing with the pesky last 50 things. I remember that he looked at me with gratitude and agreement. I'm glad that I didn't get mad at him when he carelessly hurt my finger, but instead just lightly mentioned it to him. It gave him the opportunity to pull me close and tell me in so many words that he would never hurt me...he called me his "sweetheart."
I'm glad that I called him from the motel, knowing that his knees always bothered him and especially that day after all the hard work, to tell him there was no elevator. "Is that going to be okay or should I check across the street?" I asked. He said it would be okay. One of my most vivid memories is turning to see him a couple of stairs behind me, making sure he was all right.
I'm glad that although I was laid flat myself that I lovingly urged him to take a shower even though he was so tired. And a seemingly little thing at the time, I'm glad I assured him that I would take care of his dirty clothes that were a concern to him.
I regret that there was not an instant red flag when Ken said, "I'm just so short of breath." I figured he was worn out and in my heart I was filled with joy that soon he would be able to rest and really retire...which happened in the greatest sense of the words. Yet, I wish I would have put him first and said, "Nuts" to the move.
And...lastly...I wish my whole heart that I would have dragged my weary body from the queen bed where I had fallen upon arriving in the room, to where he was--all propped up on his pillows, showered, glad to be prostrate, --and hugged and kissed him goodnight. I will always have the memory of him with his hands behind his head, resting, and off to sleep in two minutes. I wish that I had stroked his head and kissed his cheek.
Yet, God has blessed me with peace because I know my heart was pure and right towards Ken. How I loved him! How joyful I was that he would soon be in a place that he loved and could start on all his plans for the farmhouse! How thankful I am that God worked in my heart our whole marriage bringing me to where He desires for wives to be, and how thankful I am that the last eight or ten years, He had turned me completely around to adore my husband and recognize that I was married to a great man.
Don't be deceived...this kind of thinking applies to siblings and parents and friends. Our subconscious assumption is that there is still time to make things right; but we really have no guarantees. God leaves no doubts about how He feels on the subject. Unity, forgiveness, servanthood, loving "in deed and in truth" take up a lot more room in the Bible than "thou shalt not smoke." It is God's heart for us to love others better than ourselves.
How glad I am that the memories from that day are ones of love and support to Ken!
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