Friday, July 25, 2008



so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.


Yes, this Mary's Moment will show my age, but here goes anyway -- I remember, when I was in high school, the teachers and adults were upset with turned up collars. And we constantly heard, "Tuck that shirt tail in." The boys used tons of grease to keep their hair in place and the girls slept on curlers. If you didn't sleep on curlers, your arms fell off from making pin curls and using bobby pins to hold them in place until your hair dried. Of course, it took so long to roll those curls you had to keep wetting your hair. And resting your arms. With your hair in rollers or pin curls, you absolutely refused to be seen in public. If your mother said, "Go to the store now." you put a scarf over your head and prayed you would not run into anyone over the age of two.

Oh, how times have changed. Now I am the one saying, "Why in the world would they dress like that? Don't they get tired of holding their pants up so they can walk? And do those boys really think their underwear showing is sexy?" Or I look at girls and think, "My gosh, are you leaving no surprises for the bedroom? Do you really think that tattoo is going to look good when those girls start to sag? How do you eat with that thing stuck in your tongue?"

It is true. I have become my mother! But I realize, after our discussion in Sunday School class, that this generation is trying to get attention just as my generation did.

One comment was made about a UPS driver who had a band-aid over his eyebrow. When asked about his injury the driver said, "Oh, I have an eyebrow ring and I am not supposed to have any piercings, so I cover it up with a band-aid."

It was time to end class and I was wondering how to tie this into our lesson. (Our class does get off the lesson sometimes. Okay, quite regularly.) When this comment was made, I thought, "Wow God. Just the lead in I needed to make a closing point."

You see, our lesson had been on Jesus as a servant. How he washed the feet of the disciples. How he cleans us. I may not have tattoos or any piercing other than one in each ear lobe, but my body is marked. Marked by my mistakes. I try to cover my temper, my trying to do it myself and my questioning instead of trusting. But God can see beneath the band-aid. God sees what part of my body needs cleansed and then he takes off his outer robe, ties a towel around himself, pours water into a basin and begins to clean.


What areas of your life are you trying to cover with a band-aid? How would you feel if you looked up and Jesus stood there with a basin of water and a towel?

Please use this as a beginning of your prayer. Finish in your own words, words from your heart.


Dear Servant Jesus, It is so hard for me to picture you as a servant. On your knees washing dirty feet. Would I have been like Peter and said, "you shall never wash my feet." Or would I have quietly allowed you to cleanse me. Servant Jesus, remove my band-aids and wash me with your healing water. …… Amen

Friday, July 18, 2008



But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you. Psalm 5:11

(Jesus praying for His disciples) I will remain in the world no longer, but they are still in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name -- the name you gave me -- so that they may be one as we are one. John 17:11


Wednesday was a day to remember. Bill and I took a dress, which was made by my Great-Great Aunt and donated it, along with some other articles of clothing, to the Indiana State Museum. Aunt Betsy spun and the dress was made from the results of her spinning wheel. We know the dress was made sometime in the 1840's. It is exciting to know the dress will be displayed for many to see instead of being passed from cedar chest to cedar chest.

Not only was Bill being a nice husband by going to Indianapolis with me, he also saved me from the attack of the glasses case. Picture this: The sun is shining and it is time to put sunglasses on. A normal, everyday activity. A normal activity until the case attacks you.

Let me point out one thing about this particular case. It is a hard plastic case, with a very strong spring so the case snaps shut with a vengeance. This has never been a problem until Wednesday.

There we were. Driving on the very busy 465 Interstate. Traffic zooming on both sides. Cars going too slow in front and coming up too fast behind. That is when it happened. I had my sunglasses almost out of the case, when - SNAP - that case closed. Closed on an ever so tiny piece of skin, on my thumb. IT HURT!!!

As I was trying to open the case, it just pinched my skin harder. And with the way the case had closed, I could not get it open with just one hand. I tried to talk but all that came out was a strange sound. I know. I know. You are thinking, "Wimp."

My hero husband finally understood my dilemma and opened the case. What a relief. Of course, he did a lot of chuckling and smirking for the rest of the way home. I have a feeling I will never hear the end of being attacked by a glasses case.

Sorta like life. We never know when something is going to attack us. But when it does, we want to have someone to keep us safe from harm. Someone to protect us. Gee. Someone like God.


Can you top the attack of the glasses case for silly things that have happened to you? Are you prepared for the big things that attack you?

Please use this as a beginning of your prayer. Finish in your own words, words from your heart.


Holy Father, How sweet that sounds. The scripture says I can take refuge in You and seek Your protection. That the power of Your name will protect me. I do seek refuge in You and ask that You will protect me. Protect me from … Amen

Friday, July 11, 2008



"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going."


(Some background: I love grandchildren sleepovers. In our old home, they slept in an upstairs right next to our bedroom. If Kailyn was there, it was her room. If Matthew was there, it was his room. And so on right down to Timmy. Each of the grandchildren called it their room. They didn't mind that the others also laid claim to that room. When we were preparing to move and telling them about the new home, they each asked questions about where "their" room would be. Now you are ready for my story.)

I wish you could have seen Timmy (Timothy is his official name, but Timmy fits him better.). Timmy had seen our new house before it was painted and before we had any furniture in it. Then, when we were all moved in, our daughter brought the four boys over to see where grandma and grandpa were living.

Of course, since Timmy had been here before, he proceeded to show his three older brothers where the kitchen was. And the dining room. And the closet under the steps. Believe me, when Timmy was here the first time he opened every door and explored every room, so he was giving a very good tour. He made a big deal of leading his brothers into our bedroom and announced, "This is where grandma and grandpa sleep."

Then Timmy headed up the steps to show them the other bedrooms. That is when he lost it. He looked in the one bedroom and started jumping up and down. He was so excited he could hardly talk. Then, in a very loud, excited four-year old voice, proclaimed, "You moved my bed. You moved my bed. You moved my bed."

"Oh, grandma. You moved my bed." What joy those words brought to my heart. I don't know if he thought the room would still be empty. I don't know if he thought we would not bring "his bed." I just know he was so excited that he couldn't help but jump, smile and proclaim the good news.

That is what I want to do. I want to leap with joy, smile and proclaim the good news. "God has your room ready. God has your room ready. God has your room ready."

Can you picture yourself - someday - saying in a quiet, grateful and excited voice, "Oh, God. You have my room ready." And those words will bring great joy to God's heart.


Do you know that God has prepared a room for you? How does that make you feel?

Please use this as a beginning of your prayer. Finish in your own words, words from your heart.


Oh, my wonderful God. You have prepared a room for me. I feel so unworthy. To know all that I have done and yet know that you are waiting. Waiting to welcome me. Welcome me to my room. I want to leap. I want to smile. I want to proclaim the good news. God has a room for me. For each believer. Someday, when I have finished my work on earth, I will be able to say, "You have my room ready. Thank you." …… Amen

Friday, July 04, 2008



The Lord upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time. You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.


Happy 4th of July!!! What a day for the USA. A day to celebrate our freedoms. And they are many. Freedom to Worship. Work. Rest. Drive. Determine the size of your family. Select your spouse. Receive an education. Vote. Freedom to -- the list could go on and on.

The sad thing is that we do not take advantage of our freedoms. Too many do not vote. Too many expect our government to take complete care of them. Too many work and never rest. Too many do not realize how easily and quickly our freedoms can be taken away.

Our freedoms come with a price and that price is work and blood. Those that came before us worked to establish a country for all people. No other country in the world welcomes strangers and makes them citizens like the USA. BUT the work must continue as our citizens, new and old, work to make the USA strong. We need to be proud of our heritage, no matter what country we came from, but we need to be united in our desire to be Americans. We must continue the work of past generations. We must protect our freedoms.

Work and blood. Every time I look at the red stripes, on our flag, I am humbled that someone, someone I have never met or even knows I exist, would give their life so I can - Go to church. Vote. Have children, sons and daughters. Marry the man I love. Read books. Watch the news. Work. Blood has been, is being and will be given so I can live in the United States of America.

I bet you are wondering why I called this Open Hands. Put your hands out. Open them, palm up. The open hand can - take another hand in friendship and welcome. A grateful open hand can shake the hand of a soldier. An open hand can salute the flag of the United States of America.

God intended us to use open hands. The open hand can gently touch the cheek of a loved one or give a reassuring pat to a frightened child. The open hand can offer up prayers and praises to God. The open hand (and open heart) can receive the blessings God offers. An open hand - not a closed fist or hand held down to your side - tells people you have just met, your friends, neighbors, family and God that you are reaching out to them.


For what freedoms are you thankful? What can you do with open hands?

Please use this as a beginning of your prayer. Finish in your own words, words from your heart.


To the one that can satisfy all my desires, To you I reach open hands towards heaven. Open hands, which offer gratitude for the blessings that you have given me. For the freedom you offer. Freedom to be forgiven. Freedom to be filled with your love. Freedom to share that love with others. Freedom to extend open hands to each of your children I meet. Freedom to …… Amen