A QUESTION

We were headed home after having a great lunch with friends.  Just driving down the road, looking out the window, when Bill asked, “Do you know how special you are?

I replied, “As a matter of fact I do.”

Often he will say, “I am so lucky to have you.”

To which I reply, “Yes you are.  And don’t you ever forget it.”

I am not being flippant in my replies.  I am being honest.  BUT, I am just as lucky to have him.  And he is extremely special.

Jesus made people feel special.

A man with leprosy was healed because Jesus touched him.  Can you imagine what that felt like?  Jesus touched him.  How long had it been since anyone had shook his hand or given him a hug?  He was unclean.  No one touched him or they would be unclean also.  BUT, the man knelt before Jesus and asked if Jesus was willing to make him clean.  Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man.  Wow.  Jesus heard him, saw him, and healed him.  This man was special.

The little children are special to Jesus He laid his hands on them and prayed for them.  He told the disciples that the kingdom of heaven belongs to “such as these”.  Can you hear the mothers saying, “My child is special.  Jesus prayed for her.”  And the little boy would be telling the other kids, “Jesus laid his hands on me and prayed.”  Yes, the children are special.

Jesus called her to come to him and the crippled woman made her way to the front of the synagogue.  How had he seen her? Why did he want her to come to him? Out of all these people, Jesus called her forward.  Oh my goodness! Doesn’t that just make you smile? Did you think, “I would go forward.” ?  Would you feel special? Then Jesus HEALED her.  He put his hands on her.  And she stood tall.  Jesus cared enough that he healed her.  Talk about special.

John the Baptist baptized Jesus and the heaven opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove.  The dove landed on Jesus’ shoulder.  John the Baptist must have been feeling special.  I mean, he had been chosen to baptize Jesus.  He was special.  (And, I bet, very humble.).

Then a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love: with him I am well pleased.”  And Jesus hears his Father say he is pleased with him.  What would it have been like to hear God say He is pleased with him? If the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes, I am sure Jesus’s heart grew 6 sizes or 99 sizes or 1,247 sizes that day.  Jesus was special in his Father’s eyes.

Are you special?  YOU ARE VERY SPECIAL!

God knit you in your mother’s womb.

God knows the number of hairs on your head.

In God’s eyes, you are precious.

God gave His only Son that you could have eternal life.

Never, to repeat..  NEVER forget how special you are to God.  The Bible tells you over and over how special you are.

Now back to the start of this blog.  Have you ever asked a loved one or friend, “Do you know how special you are?”

Give it a shot.

90 SECONDS

I want you to look at a clock for 90 seconds.  (Do the exercise before you read!)  Did you have trouble focusing for that long?  Did it seem like a short time or a long time?  What can be done in 90 seconds?

An email can be sent or a recap of a business presentation made in less than 90 seconds.  Many business decisions happen quickly.

90 seconds can be a long time, when a child is waiting for you to get off the phone.  Or when nature calls and the minister is on a roll.

Why am I using 90 seconds?  I heard an interview with Yael Eckstein, International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, and she talked about getting into bomb shelters.  The goal is to get in the shelter in 90 seconds.  (If you did not do the 90 second exercise, do it now.)  In Israel, there are bomb shelters everywhere.  But 90 seconds?  90 seconds to get out of the grocery store.  To get away from the gas station.  And then she said, “Which child’s seat belt do you unbuckle?  Which child do you save?”

Monday was Veterans Day and we honored and thanked all who served.  How often did a veteran think 90 seconds was a long time?  Which was worse:  90 seconds of noise or 90 seconds of quiet?

90 seconds can be an eternity when waiting in the emergency room.  90 seconds……..

Sometimes, you have a lot more than 90 seconds to make decisions and things still do not go as planned.  I have a friend, in Florida, who had more than 90 seconds to make decisions on what to protect from the hurricanes.  The first thing he protected was his wife.  He made sure she was out of storm area.  After the storm, he saw almost everything was lost. 

I had a hard time deciding if I should write this.  It is not a feel good blog.  But life is not always easy.  Life gives us hard choices and some of those choices do not come with hours or weeks to make a decision.  Often, hard choices have to be made in seconds.

But there are choices you can make now instead of waiting until you only have 90 seconds.  Make the choice to believe in a risen Savior.  A Savior who died for you.  A Savior who will take your confessed sins and nail them to the Cross.  A Savior who will give you grace, mercy, forgiveness, and eternal life.

Make the choice now and a loving God will help you through the hardship and give you strength to make the 90 second decisions.

 

JUST CALL HIM YOGI

If you thought of Yogi Bear, you thought wrong.  Yogi Bear picked up picnic baskets.  Bill is picking up trash.  In our retirement community, Wednesday is the day we have to have our trash bags out for pick up.  Needing something to do, hubby volunteered to help.  Now each Wednesday, he tosses bags of trash and recycling onto the trailer.  And now I call him Yogi.

You see, when we first moved onto the farm, there was no weekly trash pick-up.  There was Yogi.  We rented a dumpster and twice a month, Yogi would come empty it.  Yogi was a big guy.  He wore bib overalls.  He had a smile that made your day.  He always had time to talk, but he never told stories about what anyone had in their trash.  I guess his motto was “what is in the trash, stays in the trash.”

Yogi did like to tell stories on himself.  I love the one about him owing a bit of back taxes.  He said one day the sheriff showed up at his door and gave him a ride to the county jail.  Seemed like those back taxes were going to be a bit of a problem.  The IRS agent was there with formal papers and they were going to give Yogi free lodging.  The process began.

“Please empty your pockets.”  Being a gentle man, Yogi complied and I am sure he was having a good talk with the IRS agent as he reached into the first pocket.  For those of you who have never worn bib overalls, you need to know that they have more than two pockets.  There are at least seven pockets.  Yogi took items out of the first pocket.  Included with a few folded papers, there was a bit of money.  The IRS agent immediately took the money.

Yogi took items out of the second pocket, which included a bit of money.  The IRS agent also took that money.  Yogi took items out of the third pocket which included a bit—- yup —- a bit of money.  Are you getting the idea?  I am sure that by now, more than one county deputy was enjoying this show.  They all knew Yogi.  They watched, along with the county sheriff and the IRS agent, as Yogi emptied one pocket after another.  You are smiling aren’t you and you can imagine what happened next.

The IRS agent started counting the money.  When he got to the amount Yogi owed, he stopped counting and had him sign a paper.  Then Yogi started putting everything back in his pockets.  Everyone was happy.  The IRS agent had his money.  The deputies were giggling as they went back to work.  The sheriff shook Yogi’s hand and they talked for a bit.

Everyone was happy except Yogi.  No, he wasn’t upset about the money.  He was upset because the sheriff said he couldn’t give him a ride home.

One day I was in the grocery store, concentrating on my list, when someone ran into my cart.  Looking up, there stood Yogi, grinning from ear to ear.  We talked a minute and then I asked him, “Yogi, I was talking to a neighbor and found out you raised the monthly rate.  But our bill is still the same.  Why didn’t our bill go up?” He grinned even bigger and said, “Because I like you.”

And I liked Yogi.  He was honest and fair.  He loved people.  He enjoyed life.  He drove a trash truck.  And he smiled.

Now I have my own Yogi.  I wonder if I should check his bib overall pockets.

 

\ / \ / \ /

 

At church, we have talked about people being upset because Jesus was hanging out with tax collectors, sinners, and all sorts of common people.  They would be mortified to see Jesus sit down with the trash man.  BUT, I know one thing: Jesus would have enjoyed sitting down with Yogi.  And I bet they would have talked, laughed, and smiled.

 

THE LOST BOOK

I know it is in the house somewhere!  I just know it, but….there is that word “but” again.  But, we cannot find it.  Hubby even helped me look.  (Women, that shows I really was trying to find it if I asked him to help.  It is a known scientific fact the men cannot find something that is right in front of them.)

It is not exactly a book.  A booklet really.  Small —- You see, I like to experiment with cake mixes.  I think I have told you that before and admitted that some of the combinations did not go together.  Some were complete fails and could not even be helped by a scoop of ice cream.  This booklet was about using cake mixes to make fantastic cakes.  Wow!  Recipes right up my alley.

To make it even better, it was in a free stack.  I picked it up and said, “You are going home with me little booklet.”  I know the booklet made it home because I distinctly remember sitting in my favorite reading chair and perusing (50 cent word!) the recipes.  That is the last time the booklet was seen.

We searched the chair.  Nope.  We searched the book stand.  Nope.  We searched the kitchen cabinets.  Nope.  We searched the storage room/pantry.  Nope.  THAT BOOKLET WAS NO WHERE TO BE FOUND!!!  I searched everywhere ….  twice more.

When I think of the time I spent looking for that booklet, a free booklet, I began to picture a scripture:

(Jesus answered) ““Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them.  Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home.  Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous person who do not need to repent. ”                 Luke 15:4-7

If I will search, not only one time, but two and then three times, for a booklet that had no value and was placed on the free table, think how Jesus feels when one of his sheep is lost.

I like to make verses in the Bible personal:

Suppose I have a hundred sheep and Mary is lost.  I will leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after her until I find her.  And when I find Mary, I will put my arms around her and we will go home.  Then I will call my friends and neighbors (believers) and say, “Rejoice with me; I have found Mary.  She is home!”

If I would become lost, Jesus would say, “Not on my watch.  I will find Mary and will bring her home.”

And that just makes my heart fill up with JOY!!!

DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES

October 23 and vacation is over!  Well almost.  We are a few hours from home, and it is funny what Bill and I notice.  The view out his window is entirely different than mine.

I see that way too many people received the “gray memo.”  Honestly!  Just because a TV show started using gray siding does not mean that every house remodel should include the color gray.  News flash — there are around 30 different colors for siding.

Bill sees corn.  Corn still standing.  Corn shelled.  Corn with smut that was turning the combine black.  Corn blown over.  75-80% of the beans are cut and a lot of corn is shelled.

I see really neat front porches.  Porches that wrap completely around the house.  My imagination pictures someone, coffee cup in hand, watching the sun come up.  The swing holds a small child reading a book to daddy.  And a young lady is receiving a marriage proposal.

Bill sees an International Lone Star and does not understand why I don’t consider it special.  He also points out a combine and tells me a new one costs $1 million.

So far, I have seen four old cemeteries.  Bill used his selective hearing to not hear me say, “Those look interesting.”  He knows that is code for “we should stop and see this”.  We did not stop.  The horse (Bill) was headed to the barn (home) and nothing was going to get in his way.

Bill sees the variations in gasoline prices.  It has gone from $2.68 to $3.89.  He also wonders how property - usually farms – can be so well taken care of and then a mile down the road it is as if no one cares.  Buildings are falling down and equipment left sitting everywhere.

Looking out the window taught us three things:

   We should have bought stock in Dollar General.  They are more prolific than rabbits.

   We watched a cobweb attached to the antenna.  How did it hang on?  At 40 mph, it hung on.  At 60 mph, it hung on.  We got on the interstate and it stayed right there.  No matter what the world throws at us, we want to be as strong, in our faith, as that cobweb.

   Bill finds it fascinating that I can so easily pick up the southern accent.  If I am around someone that is truly southern, I will sound like I was born there.  This makes us realize we need to be careful who we are around.  Bad habits and going the wrong directions are easy to pick up.

What do you see when you are out for a drive?  

Do you learn any lessons from another’s perspective?

DAY AND NIGHT

I love to take my iPad and shrink the map until it becomes a globe.  Then I spin the globe to see where it is daylight and where it is dark.  At night, Africa has very few lights.  Only the big cities show up.  In other countries, there are lots of big cities and lots of light. 

It has always amazed me that when I am sleeping, people on the other side of the globe are at work.  They are fixing breakfast and drinking coffee.  They are trying to get the little ones out the door so they will not be late for school.  Then the process changes.  It is time for me to wake up and time for them to go to bed.  One world but so different.

I am also interested to see those from other countries dressed in traditional attire.  The best I can come up with, for the USA, is to dress as an Indian, a Pilgrim, a cowboy, or a saloon lady.  There does not seem to be a traditional attire for our country.  When I googled, the answer was jeans.  Wow.  Jeans.  That is a bit of a letdown.  Then I thought about countries where my blog is read.

India’s sarees are bright and colorful and the kurta, for men and women, represents a cultural identity.  The lehenga choli uses gold and silver threads for intricate embroidery and design.  Japanese women now wear kimonos for formal occasions and the obi, a wide sash, may cost more than all other layers, of the kimono, put together.  The black martial arts pants are called Kakamas.

You would travel 5,973 miles to go from Japan to Ireland.  In Ireland you would find tartan plaid kilts and musicians wearing Bodhran hats.  Of course, Ireland is famous for their linen and lace.  I will not try to pronounce the National Dress of Sweden:  Sverigedrakten.

Hope I got the names correct.  If not, blame google.

I notice that each country also has a unique type of music.  Our languages are different.  The color of our skin ranges from very dark to very light.  One world but so different.

I pick songs to post on our church Facebook page each Wednesday and you know what I find?  I find Amazing Grace sung by choirs around the world.  I find How Great Thou Art sung by a Russian family, living in the USA.  I find The Old Rugged Cross sung in small churches and in great cathedrals. 

We may not have the same color of skin.  We may have different languages and unique types of music.  We may wear sverigedrakten or a Bodhran hat or a kimono or a saree or jeans. 

Around the world, we wake and we sleep.  We have long established and new families.  We work in and outside the home.  We eat rice and we eat pizza.

This makes me wonder.  Are we really so different?  Aren’t we all Children of God? 

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!   1 John 3:1

If you can, would you please tell us what country you are from and your favorite hymn. This will help us realize Christ is working around the world.

 24 DAYS

I rarely use this blog for political comments, but I feel an obligation to speak up.  I believe all Christians and Christian churches should be speaking up.  We should be defending the Word of God and our beliefs.  I cannot tell you who to vote for, but I will tell you why I am voting for Trump/Vance.

ABORTION:

Psalm 139:13 says, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”

Vice President candidate Waltz, as Governor of Minnesota, signed a bill that had essentially no restrictions on abortion at any stage of pregnancy.  According to the Democratic candidates, abortion is a woman’s right.  There are no rights for the child growing and waiting to be delivered. 

I cannot vote for a candidate who supports abortion on demand and up to the time of birth.

AGRICULTURE:

The DNC platform states that “big agriculture has moved in, telling too many small farms that the surest path to success was to get big or get out.  As a result, we lost over 400,000 farms in America in the last 40 years.”  They state that too many young people have had to leave their hometowns to find better jobs.  They want to give small and mid-size farmers a larger share of profits.

I have lived in agriculture/rural communities all my life.  My grandfather fed his family on a 40-acre farm.  I have seen the size of livestock facilities grow to what they are today.  Family farms are no longer 40-acres.  They are 1,000 + acres.  They may have the word Incorporated in the farm name, but it is still family owned and has passed from one generation to the next.  Farmers have gone from feeding their family to feeding the world.  Agriculture is not as seen on a TV movie.  Farmers own new pick-ups, their homes are modern, they go on vacations, and the lady of the house does not go out dressed like my grandmother and gather eggs.

I might just believe the DNC honestly wants to improve the lives of those involved in agriculture, until I read that the Biden administration (Which includes Harris) has worked with the big corporations they hate to push over 12,000-acres of farmland in Ohio to become solar facilities.  This was finally pushed through against the desires of the community.  These acres are just the tip of the iceberg.  Cropland is shrinking daily.  Biden also gave the green light to build solar power farms on 31 million acres of federal land.  Using land – federal land we own and prime cropland – does not seem like a policy that supports agriculture.

I cannot vote for a candidate who supports using prime farmland to grow solar panels instead of food.

ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS:

I support legal immigration into the USA.  I do not support the open border policy that has existed the last four years. 

I cannot vote for a candidate who supports open borders and who sends a large number of illegal immigrants into cities and towns that are not prepared to provide services.

FREEDOM OF SPEECH:

Our right to speak out for our beliefs is quickly eroding.  I believe there are two sexes:  Male and Female.  These result in pronouns of he, she, him, her.  If I refuse to use the pronouns of transgenders, in certain locations, I can be fired.  Only one side of this issue has true freedom of speech.

I do not believe our children should be allowed to make life altering decisions until they have reached the legal age of adulthood.  To give minors the right to take drugs and opt to have their bodies surgically changed is just wrong!  I do not believe men should be allowed to enter a woman’s locker room, a woman’s restroom, allowed to play on woman’s sport teams, or given approval to share a room with the opposite sex on field trips or team trips.  The same goes for women who believe there are male.

The democratic party supports the transgender ideology 100%.

I cannot vote for a candidate who believes it is appropriate to hide information from parents and who supports our youngest children to make decisions they do not understand.

I could go on, but I will stop.  I titled this 24 Days because that is how many days you have to research exactly what the candidates believe and support.  It is said that if Christians would vote, we could begin to turn this country around.   BUT, whatever candidate you support, VOTE!!!!!!!!!  I have always said, “If you didn’t vote, don’t complain.”  I vote!  And I complain.

 

THE HURRICANE

The pictures are hard to see.  Homes washed away.  Businesses destroyed.  Boats stuck in the mud the flood left behind.  Roads and bridges gone.  Whole towns are no longer.  Piles and piles of belongings.  No electricity.  No water.  No food.  No way to know the devastation would ever be like this.

The pictures are hard to see, but the stories are heart wrenching.  A mother who could no longer hold onto her seven-year-old son and her parents.  A death toll that will continue to rise.  And loved ones and friends that may never be found.

I have a friend in Florida who lost everything.  Well, almost everything.  The pile of belongings keeps getting higher.  BUT the hospital was safe for his wife to have her ongoing medical treatments the day after the storm.  More stuff is carried out and the “to go” bag with important papers was not waterproof as promised.  BUT friends came to help and bring food.  The cars were totally destroyed.  BUT his mother and friends brought him a car and they shared a margarita.  The drywall is off to above the water line.  BUT the use of a condo allows him, his wife, and dog to shower and sleep and plan.  It seems all is lost.  BUT a boat that was not destroyed sails another day.  Strength, that should be helping a very ill body survive, is used to clean out a house.  BUT a quirky sense of humor has kept us informed on how they are doing.

<   <   <   <   >   >   >

The woman whose son was swept from her grasp, heard him calling the name of Jesus.  He knew where he was going.

My friend has been surrounded by caring, loving friends who are giving back to a couple that was always there to help and has blessed a community with their generosity.

Why am I telling you this? You have seen the pictures.  You might have family that went through the storm and is now suffering the aftermath.  You might have a friend that has lost almost everything.

On one of my friend’s posts, I wrote: When all is lost, that with value is seen more clearly. 

We want.  We acquire.  Stuff fills our homes.  And at the end of the storm, when everything seems to be lost, what has true value rises to the top.

A mother is secure in the knowledge that her son is with God.  She will see her son again.

A friend has found out how it feels to receive help.  And has what holds the most value — His wife.  His family.  His friends.  And their dog, Taz.  And a boat, taken out for a break from the pain and a moment of peace, leads to this:

Picture taken by my friend.

 

WHO ?

How many times, when you were in school, did the English teacher have you write a paper on the question:  If you could have lunch with any famous person, living or dead, who would it be?  This same question seems to appear in magazine quizzes and discussion groups.  The answers always include one President or another.  Elvis or another famous artist is selected.  Mother Theresa is a top option and, sadly, some would sit down with a violent criminal.  I guess each has their reason for choosing the person they would enjoy eating with.

No, I have not forgotten the tremendous amount of people that would quickly say, “I would want to have lunch with Jesus.”

“Mary, would you want to have lunch with me?  I am sure you would have questions.”

Hi Jesus.  Would you be upset if I told you my pick would not be you?

“It would take a lot more than that to make me upset.  Is it because we have conversations and you pretty much have asked me every question in the book?”

I might have asked, but you sure are not very free with giving answers.  Nope, I want to sit down with your mother.

“My mother?  She is an amazing woman, but why her instead of me?”

You are getting upset, aren’t you?

“No.  Just curious.  Not very many people pick her.  And they are missing out on dining with a woman of great …….”

That is just it.  I have so many questions to ask her… Did you doubt your courage to be the mother to God’s Son?  Did you ….

“You interrupted me again."

Sorry.

“May I continue now?  What do you think it would be like dining with my mother?”

Oh, when I close my eyes and picture it, I see us sitting beside a stream.  I can see her face.  Her eyes would draw me in and make me feel safe and her skin would be so soft.  Her mouth would have a slight smile.  Her back would be straight, and her hands would have an ever so gentle …..

“Are you talking about my mother? The mother who, with one glare, could make me pick up my toys.  And would never allow me to skip school with the other boys.  And she made me eat all my vegetables."

Hey, I was not done.  Her hands would have an ever so gentle touch as she would lay her hand on mine.  And I can hear her soft voice telling me her story.  I can see her shoulders stiffen and then drop, as she relived standing … standing before the Cross.

And when she was finished, I would have no questions.  I would know the honor she felt after the angel visited her.  And I would hear her softly tell of her fears, because every mother has fears.  She would have grinned from ear to ear as she talked about you as a child.  She would have told me what it was like to hear you speak in the temple or in the courtyard or to a child.  And I would have seen the tears as she told about the last time she held your face in her hands.

And, when I could find my voice, I would humbly thank her.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

I have always answered the question with Mary.  Usually, I followed that with questions I would ask her: Was he a good boy?  Surely, he got in trouble sometime.  What was his favorite food? Did he?  Did he?

BUT, as I started writing,   I realized,   if I was having lunch with Mary,  she would tell me her story     and I would have no questions. 

If you could have lunch with any famous person, living or dead, who would it be?  It would be Mary, and I would treasure every word.

THE WEDDING SHOWER

Our grandson is getting married in just a few days.  Last Sunday, our son and I went to their wedding shower.  Yes, this shower was for the Bride and Groom.  The shower was a two- and a half-hour drive --- one way, but we were more than happy to make the drive.  Besides, it was a beautiful day and we had time to talk.  Of course, talking meant missing when the road turned --- twice.  I don’t know why they hide road signs.  (You are to give an “I have been there” nod.)

We arrived at the location and the parking in front of the venue was all shut off by orange cones.  Well, being a talented driver, our son popped right between those orange cones so I could get out and not have to walk from a parking lot somewhere.  Our grandson was watching and immediately came out to help me in.  He grabbed the gifts and in we went.

You know how these events go.  Mingle.  Talk.  His side.  Her side.  A nice lunch.  A typical shower game.  It was a small shower so all went wonderfully until ---- it was announced that they had decided to open the gifts at home.  Our grandson was standing right beside me and that is when my mouth said what my brain was thinking.

With a look that only a grandma can give, I said, “I did not ride two and a half hours to not see you open your gifts.”  Grandson quickly said they would open our gifts.  Then our son spoke up, “You cannot open just one gift.  Either none or all.”

With that it was announced that the gifts would be opened there.  And as they reached for a gift, the giver would move to the edge of their chair and watch with great expectations.  The giver grinned from ear to ear when they saw the reaction to their gift.  The bride and groom could comment and say thank you directly to each person. 

And we went home.

------------------------------------------

I wonder if that is how Jesus feels as he gives gifts to his children.  Does he sit on the edge of his seat to watch our reaction?  Do we quickly unwrap each gift and realize its value?  Do we see his smile and the sparkle in his eyes as we look up in wonder at his generosity?  Do we toss one gift aside to open the next or do we humbly thank him for each one?

                              GIFTS

Leadership            Administration     Teaching

Knowledge            Wisdom                Prophecy

Discernment         Exhortation           Shepherding

Faith                      Evangelism           Apostleship

Service/Helps       Mercy                   Giving

Hospitality            Healing                 Interpretation

Miracles                Tongues                Evangelism

BUT WAIT – THERE IS ONE MORE

#1 GIFT

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.  Indeed, THE WATER I GIVE THEM WILL BECOME IN THEM A SPRING OF WATER WELLING UP TO ETERNAL LIFE.”                    John 4:10, 13

Oh, how amazing are the gifts we receive from our Lord and Savior. 

 

DEAD BATTERY

I had errands I needed to run.  Okay, full disclosure, I did not run – I drove the car.  Or at least I tried to.

From July 25 to September 10, Bill has chauffeured me wherever I needed to be.  Off we would go to a doctor’s appointment.  Off we would go to … oh … I guess doctor appointments were the only place we went.  Bill went to all the other places:  grocery store, to get prescriptions filled, hardware, dollar store, and to pick up meals (no grub hub here).  Finally, boot off meant I could drive.  I did not need a chauffeur.  I could go to town all on my own.  Freedom!!!

I took my trusty cane.  I got in the car, armed with my list and my charge card.  I put my seat belt on.  I put the garage door up.  I pushed the brake pedal.  I pushed the Engine Start/Stop button.  The car did not start.  Instead, a message popped up:  NO KEY FOB DETECTED.  What?  I have my key in my purse.  I haven’t used it for six weeks, but it is in my purse. 

Now, more than a bit miffed, I dug my key fob out.  “See car.  Here is a key fob.”  I pushed the lock button.  It did not work.  (Big sigh.)  The battery must be dead.  BUT never fear ---

A few years back, three ladies were in Michigan.  We had gone to see a new antique store.  The day was fun.  We had laughed.  We enjoyed the store and made a purchase or two.  We stopped for supper.  Getting out of the car, I pushed the lock button.  The door did not lock.  The key fob battery was dead.  BUT never fear!  This had happened once before and I was ready.  I had a new battery in the car.  Taking the battery, into the restaurant, I figured I could quickly change the battery and we would enjoy our supper knowing we would be able to get the car started.  I knew how to insert the battery.  What I was not prepared for was getting the battery out of the plastic package.

You would think the battery was a gold brick from Fort Knox!  I did not have anything to cut through thick plastic so I turned to the gentleman standing beside me and asked, “Do you have a pocket knife I could borrow?”  He replied, “No.”  Then he moved away from us.  Did he really think we looked like dangerous characters.  Whatever --- I needed to get to that battery.

Next I tried the bartender.  “Sir, do you have a knife that would cut this plastic?  I need the battery.”  He would not give me a knife.  He took the battery, picked up a knife, and, with a “really you couldn’t get this open” smile, proceeded to … not get the battery out.  Now the man sitting at the bar was trying very hard not to laugh, as the bartender picked up a different knife.  Trying to cut the plastic, he said, “How bad do you need this battery?”  With one more try, the plastic was cut and the battery was placed in the remote.  I breathed a sigh of relief and offered a reward to the bartender.  He said, “I am going to get so much mileage telling this story, you do not need to give me a tip.”   ---

I remembered all this, as I sat in my car, with a dead remote fob battery, and a new battery.  The only difference is that the new battery was already removed from its plastic case and ready to be used. 

Because I was ready.  Sorta like Matthew 25:1-4, 10, 13

“At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.  Five of them were foolish and five were wise.  The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them.  The wise ones, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps."

“But while they (foolish ones) were on their way to buy the oil, the bridegroom arrived.  The virgins who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet.  And the door was shut.”

“Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.”

When will the key fob battery quit working?  I do not know, but I have a battery ready.

When will the bridegroom arrive?  I do not know, but I have a lamp and a jar of oil ready.

 

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING?

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I was so thankful I did not have to go through chemo or radiation.  I received many cards and one said, “Just be glad you did not have ….”  Well, I was glad! But I took those words wrong.  They hurt.  I felt I was being told my cancer was no big deal.  When I told my cancer doctor about how I felt, she said everyone has to own their particular cancer (illness).  You can not play the ‘at least’ game because there is always someone who has it worse than you.”  Her words put everything into perspective.  I started with this because I want to fast forward two years.  ……………….

As you know, I had foot surgery in July and have been wearing a boot since then.  At first I could only walk on my heel.  Now I can walk normal and continue to wear the boot.  Hopefully, when you read this I will be out of the boot, because that darned boot makes me walk off stride and my back and leg are beginning to hurt.  As a matter of fact —-

I could not get comfortable.  Every part of my body hurt.  Either my arthritis (thank you mother for sharing that with me) or my back and leg hurt and that darn boot made my foot hot.  The wee hours of the night and I could not sleep.  So, I did what I often do.  I talked to God.

God, you awake?

“Yes, Mary, I am awake.”

God, I am tired!  For the last three years it has been one thing after another.  Do I have to make a list?  It ..

“Did you want me to answer about making a list or was that rhetorical?”

Rhetorical.  (You need to know that the following was said in a voice of frustration, anger, and absolute honesty.)  God, I am tired.  It seems it has been one thing after another.  Poor Bill is doing what I should be doing and it is killing me to watch him do “my work.”  And who would think a person could miss dusting?  And we have not been able to go to church … again.  The broken leg kept us home and now the toe repair stopped us from going.  I miss church.  I miss the people and Sunday School.  I miss praying together.  I miss hearing the word.  And I hurt tonight.  And I cannot sleep.  And I wonder what I am supposed to be doing?  I have a whole list of what I cannot do.  But what am I supposed to be doing?

“Check your email.” 

WHAT?  I spill out my heart and you tell me to check my email. 

“Check your email.” 

Surely God didn’t mean to check my email now…in the wee hours of the night, especially after all the things I had just said to him.  BUT I checked my email.  There it was. 

Dear Mary:

 

Sometimes reading your blog and Larry Wade's blog are what keep me going.

 

The last couple of months have been rough.   Reading your thoughts always some how "grounds" me and lets me know others have troubles and they survive.

 

Every day is a gift - even though some are so hard that does not seem to be true.

 

Things are getting better for - just hope and pray that continues. 

—————————————- 

God did mean right then because checking my email gave me a blessing.  My words encouraged someone. 

Did I go gently to sleep?  No.  I still hurt, but I had my answer: I am to use words to encourage. 

I wrote about this for a number of reasons. 

• We often say God does not answer our prayers.  He does.  Sometimes, his answer seems a bit odd so we don’t do it.  Listen.  Do what he tells you.  And when he tells you.
• We often do not realize how small actions can impact someone.  You might think it is just a greeting card.  The person receiving the card smiles because you cared and thought of them.
• We often think, “I am only one.  What can I do?”  Remember:  Jesus was only one and he called his disciples one or two at a time.  He used one Moses, one Abraham, one Esther, one Mary and one man in the tombs.  He will use you. 

I so want to thank the person that sent the email.  You were God’s messenger!!!!!! Through your email, I received peace. 

——————————— 

PS  I did not write this to get sympathy or sound like poor me.  I wrote this to let you know that, just like the person who sent the email, sometimes life is hard.  Sometimes, it just plain sucks.  Sometimes life does not seem like a gift.  BUT God uses us in HIS way.  God uses us where we are, not where we want to be. 

Also, I did get the dusting done and the boot is off.