The Best Investments

This morning I read in my Bible about the master who went on a far journey and left 10 of his servants with a pound a piece, then later returned to see how they made use of them.

I'm sure you're familiar with the parable.  For those of you who aren't, "pounds" were a currency back then, and Jesus was telling the story to His disciples to make a point. This "master," who gave out the pounds and then came back had basically told his servants to invest the money on his behalf, and to keep at it until he returned to collect.

Simple tale.

The first servant gained 10 pounds from his initial one pound. Pretty good investing, if you ask me! He was rewarded by being put in charge of ten cities; faithful in little, faithful in much. The second servant had gained 5 pounds. Still not bad.

The last servant had not only NOT invested the money given to him, but he had a few choice words to say to his master. In an excuse, to explain why he'd simply hidden the money in a napkin and done nothing else, the servant said; "I feared thee, because thou art an austere man: thou takest up that thou layedest not down, and reapest that thou didst not sow."

He seemed to think that explained everything. The master was angry with him, and told him he should have at least lent it to the bank and gotten interest. Then the master took away the one pound, and gave it to the wiser servant. So the last servant was left with nothing; not even the pound he so carefully preserved in a napkin.

I've heard this story many, many times. Most of the time, it is used to illustrate the matter of "talents." When God makes a person, and saves them, He gives them abilities. Some of them are natural, that the person is born with, and some of them are spiritual gifts, that are dropped in when the person is born again. A natural gift would be something like the ability to play an instrument or understand computers really well. A spiritual gift would be something like having a special capacity for mercy, or being able to preach.

God gives us these abilities and tells us to invest them; we are to use them and develop them, and serve Him with them. If we don't do this, we are like the last servant, who kept his money hidden away. The master was not pleased with him.

I think many of us have heard that many times. But the last few times I have read this story, a new thought has entered my mind.

You see, I never could figure out what that last servant meant by what he said to his master. I thought it was an odd excuse to make. I used to shrug it off; what difference did it make what the servant said? The point was that he hadn't used his talents for their intended purpose. I did think it was a little odd that, since the master is supposed to represent God, the servant called him austere - selfish and cruel, basically. And the master agreed with him! But I just supposed that part just didn't apply to God.

Lately I've begun to understand. Let me rewrite the scene in my own words.

Master: "Well, Servant, how have you used what I gave you? Did you invest it like I expected you to? Have you caused my assets to grow?"
Servant: (clutching the money, still wrapped up, to his chest) "No. See - here; I kept it safe, right here. I wasn't about to do the work of investing it; checking the stocks, taking inventory, doing paperwork. I knew you would come back to claim it all. I knew you'd take it all away from me. You're a cruel, selfish man! Why should I do all that work, just so you can come and snatch it away from me?!"
Master: "But it is mine. That money is mine. The growth of it would have been mine as well. It is your duty to return it to me. Why didn't you at least put it in the bank and let it gain interest?"
Servant: (Grasping the napkin even tighter) "MINE!"

I seem to see a bit of myself in this servant. Often I want to hold on to my talents, and use them only when I profit from it. It's all well and good to say I'm serving God, but do I really hold my fist loosely closed? Am I willing to let Him have all the interest; and the principle, too? Do I hang back from serving, because I know that He is going to claim the profit? Any time I do, I am JUST LIKE this foolish servant.

That's something to think about.

A Rock

I'm thinking about the house on the rock tonight.

Did you ever sing that children's song about the wise man who built his house on the rock, and the foolish man who built his house on the sand (which went "splat!" in the end)?

Jesus' illustration of houses on different foundations gives us a vivid example of how trust-worthy his law is. If we commit ourselves to "hearing these sayings of Mine, and doing them," our house - our life - will stand.

Whenever I hear those verses, my ear focuses on the words like this:

"...Whosoever hearth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock."
(Matt. 7:24-25)

That's great. It's wonderful. We can be confident in our foundation. But tonight, I read those verses again, and my eye caught a different theme:

"...Whosoever hearth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock."

Oh. You mean I should expect storms? I'm not a little child singing a song anymore. I've seen that life can be rough and unfriendly. But part of me wants to pull the covers over my head and pretend that the pattern of the ages is going to change somehow, and one human life (mine) will transpire without ever suffering loss, pain, or damage.

Then I read through some more verses, and I saw Jesus warning his disciples. The Son of man has nowhere to lay his head. Enter in the strait and narrow gate. You cannot serve both God and mammon. Not everyone who says unto Him, "Lord, lord," will enter into the kingdom.

I think He's trying to make a point. Life in His service will have trials. There will be floods, and wind. Money-back guarantee.

But that's what makes His assurance so precious. His Word will stand, like a rock - not just through rose gardens and sunshine, but through all the storms of a thousand lifetimes. And we can build upon it. By doing what He says.

This year - what will it hold? Only my Father knows. I bet it will include some storms. But He hasn't left me without instructions on how to prepare. Do His Word. Obey His commands.

And I'll have a house that will stand through any storm.

The view isn't bad in the sunshine, either.

Advice for the unmarried

"Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life. Put away from thee a froward mouth, and perverse lips put far from thee. Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the right hand nor to the left: remove thy foot from evil." Proverbs 4:23-27

What do those verses mean to you?

Do you know what I think? I think God put those verse there especially for unmarried people. I think it's His solution to the crusade of crushes, flirting, daydreaming, castle-building, and discontentment that runs rampant in even our Christian circles. And even in our own lives, sometimes.

I mean - think about it: it's all there.

Vs. 23 - Guard your heart. Use diligence. Why? Because that's where your life source is. That's where who you are stems from. And you want it to be pure and good and focused solely on Christ.

Vs. 24 - Don't speak boldly and flirtatiously. In fact, don't say anything that could be counted as unfitting to a disciple of Christ. Put such things far away from you. Let it be completely out of character for you to be boisterous and loud and giggly and attention-grabbing.

Vs. 25 - Let your eyes be focused on one thing, and one thing only: Jesus. Let Him be your life and your goal, and your source of happiness. Keep your vision fixed on where He is, and where He wants you to be. Remember eternity. Look at life through His eyes, through His perspective. Don't get distracted.

Vs. 26 - Think about where you're going. Think about who you are. Don't wander into situations that you will regret later. Don't let life just happen to you; you have a purpose and a calling. Follow it. Follow Him. Let your habits and your life be rooted in godliness and obedience. Seek after wisdom with all your heart. Walk with your eyes open.

Vs 27 - Don't give in to temptation. Don't get distracted. When you wander off the path, forsake the byways quickly. Run from sin like you would a poisonous snake. Embrace truth, and walk with the knowledge that the path God has set for you - and His timing and His plan - is the absolute best.

See what I mean?

It's all there.

Nice of our Heavenly Father to put it so concisely, wasn't it?

Spiritual Warfare

It's about time I wrote another blog post.

I don't have time to download pictures, get fancy, and give you a nice little how-to post about anything, so I'll just tell you what's on my heart tonight.

I've been thinking about spiritual warfare, and its most prevalent battlefield; the mind.

Anyone who has been a Christian for any length of time has encountered spiritual warfare, but not all of us recognize it for what it is. I know that I am often far into a battle before I realize that it is a battle. Where did I think those thoughts and temptations were coming from, anyway? Why was I suddenly depressed and anxious, without warning? Where did that sense of oppression come from?

I have learned that when I think I am strongest and most victorious, the Enemy strikes. When I have taken a major step of faith, walked in obedience, conquered a particular fear or sin....it doesn't take long for the enemies to retaliate.

A general feeling of anxiety hangs over me, completely disconnected to the circumstances around me. Temptations swarm over me, and my defenses against them are weak. Anger I didn't know I possessed will bubble up at random moments, like lava. A filmy smoke screen seems to obscure my view of my Beloved, and my prayers stumble all over the place.

Can you relate?

Those times of warfare are exhausting. I feel like a green solider, still wet behind the ears, facing Apollyon in the valley of humiliation, like Christian in Pilgrim's Progress. Every time we face each other, I end up on my back, always reaching my sword only in the nick of time.

I've found that the first step towards victory in these battles is recognizing that I'm in one. I have to train myself to watch for the signs.

Secondly, I use advice given me by a wise preacher; if the battle is major and repetitive - such as when the devil was constantly using depression to weigh me down - I go tell my spiritual authority that I'm under attack, and ask him (my father) to pray for me, ...aloud. Our enemies are alive and can hear, you know. The name of Jesus has power to strike fear in them.

Then I try to look for the lie I've believed. Satan is the father of lies, you remember, and they are his major and main weapon. He always, always, always lies. Count on it. If you're under attack, you've been lied to. It's that simple.

So where's the lie? Sometimes it's hard to spot.

Have you believed something about God that isn't true? That He doesn't love you? That His blood isn't enough to cover your sins? That He isn't in control? That He doesn't know what He's doing this time?

Have you believed a lie about yourself? Have you believed that your flesh is enough? Have you trusted in self? Have you believed that you deserved something that wasn't really yours by right? Have you forgotten that you are God's child, and an heir with Christ? Have you forgotten your access to the Father?

Have you believed a lie about someone else? Have you been looking for something in them that only Christ can supply?

Look for it. Identify it. You may have to dig deep, because they are often disguised so beautifully. Pray hard. Prayer is the fire that melts off the pretty package and allows the Holy Spirit to enter and expose the filthy lies for what they are.

Once you have been shown them, speak truth. Find verses that speak the truth about those situations or thoughts, and speak them over and over to yourself. "Take every thought captive." Remember that verse? Do it. Don't let your mind run where it will - it will take the low road. Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus. He is the Truth.

And the truth will set you free.

And if the Son make you free, you are free indeed.

Blessings, friends, and may Christ give us victory! His blood is our power and strength.

If you were that man

I'm going to live dangerously, and publish two posts in one day. :)

I just wanted to share a thought with you.

We just finished reading part of Luke 5 as a family; the story of the man who was let down through the roof by four friends, in order to be healed by Jesus. The Bible says Jesus saw their faith, and told the man his sins were forgiven. The Pharisees thought "who does this guy think He is? Only God can forgive sins." (I'm paraphrasing, you understand.)

So, to prove He had power to do anything - forgiving sins and healing bodies - Christ turned back to the crippled man and told him to rise up and walk.

Familiar story.

But tonight I thought of something I never had before.

How much time elapsed while Christ spoke with the Pharisees?

Picture it: you're that crippled man. You lay there on your bed, just having reached the floor. You've been lowered through the roof by your four friends. The dust is still settling. Everyone is staring at you. No one moves. You lock eyes with Jesus, and realize you're holding your breath. So much hangs on this moment. You've come to be healed. Will He heal you?

And He tells you your sins are forgiven.

Then He turns to talk with the teachers and lawyers.

How long? One minute? Two? Five?

However long it is, you're laying there. Everyone is still looking. Your friends look on from above, peering through the hole in the roof.

What are you thinking?

You came to be healed. Jesus hasn't said a word about that. Is this all He's going to do? Is He going to leave you like this?

But He's just forgiven your sins. Is He really God, after all?

Do you suppose your sins had been weighing heavily on your conscience? Had you been convicted in your heart? Has a burden been lifted by those words of forgiveness? Was it worth coming, just for that? If He never turns around and looks at you again, has it been enough?

What do you think?

Of course, we know the end of the event. Jesus healed the man. But what if He hadn't? What if that was us? Would we be satisfied with "only" spiritual healing?

To be reconciled with God - what a thought! Our future secured, our soul made new...surely such a thing is priceless.

Do we value it as we ought? Do we prefer it over physical wellness?

Forget physical wellness for a moment. What about "trivial" little things, like food, clothes, and jobs. Do we count even those things of more value than spiritual wellness?

If you were that man, and Christ had never turned back to heal you, would you have been content?

What about your real life? Even if you are saved, surely there are other things in your life you'd like God to "fix." Are you happy, even while in those circumstances? Or do you put off happiness, saying "I'd be happy/content/peaceful if He'd only answer this request"?

Something to think about, isn't it?

We have salvation through Christ! We ought to be the happiest, most content people in the world.

Even if He hasn't lifted hardships we originally came to Him about.

Because He is enough.

Enticed.

I've been thinking, lately, about how often we make provision for the flesh.

What is it, to "make provision for the flesh"?

I don't think the scripture is talking about providing food for our stomach.

No; our flesh is more than bodily appetites - though those are included. It's those longings we have that stem from the old man. Those desires that come from selfishness, pride, and other wrong motives.

We know we shouldn't desire certain things. But we play with ourselves. We show ourselves things we know we can't have, and shouldn't want. Our imaginations run to places they shouldn't go, and we soothe our consciences with the thought that we "wouldn't really do that."
We just want to play with it. Watch other people do it.

What are we really doing when we look at things we know we shouldn't do or have?

We are wishing we could do it, or have it. Even if we don't admit it even to ourselves. The fact that we find it attractive betrays us. We aren't treating it like something our Lord hates. Instead, we are pampering that old man inside us; showing him what he longs for.

Do we really expect him to stay content, to be dead to sin, when we keep tantalizing him? He won't be pacified by looks. Sooner or later he'll act. Because he's human.

To provide for the flesh is to make sinful options available. Just in case. Just on the chance that we have to give in. You know. Like sticking that chocolate chip cookie on the counter instead of in the jar, just in case we get hungry.

Or keeping that questionable book on our shelf, just in case we change our minds.

Or hanging that "iffy" shirt in our closet, just in case it doesn't look so bad the next time everything else is in the dirty laundry pile.

Or keeping our computer turned on and within reach, just in case we give into the temptation to waste time when there are other things to do.

What are we doing?!?! What happened to fleeing temptation?

A verse in Proverbs 19 struck me along the same lines. It tells us what to do in these cases: "Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge."

It's so simple; if something causes you to err, to be less interested in the words of God, stop listening! Turn it off. Shut it up. Throw it away. Whatever you have to do.

The huge simplicity of this concept has occupied my mind often during the past few days. It is a marvel to me, how alluring sin is. I wish it wasn't. It is amazing to me, how enticed mankind is by sin. We go for it, like a dog to poisoned meat. The only thing strong enough to keep us away is love. The Bible says love is stronger than death. It's stronger than anything. The only way we will stay away from sin is if we love the Saviour more.

What are you doing today to foster that love?

Yesterday and Today

I had a rotten day yesterday.

You think I got online just to tell you that, don't you? Not really. Yesterday was awful, and I expected today to follow suit.

I decided to expect that just seconds after waking up - right after I bounced out of bed and landed - smack! - on the floor. As I sat on the floor beside my bed, head spinning, stomach feeling queasy, and my entire left leg asleep, I thought to myself "I thought yesterday was over!"

But my stomach improved, my leg woke up, and my head finally got oriented about twenty minutes later.

But I had to leave the house in about 1.5 hours, and I still had to eat breakfast, shower, get a package ready to ship, fix my hair, and spend time in God's Word. I was supposed to be headed to the Crisis Pregnancy Center, where I volunteer once a week. In about 2 hours, I would be talking with women who need hope and help. When I read this morning, I assure you that I was looking for a verse to grab onto, to get me through the day.

I read 1 Chronicles.

Every read 1 Chronicles? The first nine chapters are genealogies. Hardly inspiring, at first glance.

But lo and behold! In chapter 5, I found my verse: "..for they cried unto God in battle, and he was entreated of them; because they put their trust in him."

Now that is not what I got online to tell you, either, but it's not a bad thought, is it? All it takes is trust. And Who is more worthy of our trust than God? He's proved that over and over.

What was I going to tell you?

Oh yes - even with a verse to hold on to, days can get rough. (Even when they're better than the day before.) But deciding to praise God in the midst of difficulties makes a world of difference. I re-discovered today that you can't complain while praising.

Try it.

That's what I wanted to tell you.

God is Good ALL the Time

I've been doing a lot of thinking, the past couple days.

Great, you say. Good for the head.

No - really. I've been doing more than the usual share of wondering, asking, and pondering. Don't make jokes. This is serious thinking that I've been doing.

There's so much hurt in the world. Death. Persecution. Broken relationships. Greedy dictators. Depression. Anger. Murder. Loss.

So many innocents wounded. Babies killed. Children scarred in their hearts. Wives grieving. Men broken inside. Families starving to death.

Why, God? Why do you let it be this way? Why must they hurt? My heart aches for them.

Why is my life so....pristinely perfect? It almost scares me. Why was I born in the most wonderful country in the world? Why have I never had to hide under a table, clutching my Bible in my hands, while secret police arrest my parents?

Why do I have an entire family that loves God and loves me? Why do I have parents who love each other? Why do I have enough to eat and clothes to wear? Why do I have a wonderful church, where the gospel is preached? Why do I have my grandparents still with me on this earth? Why have I never dealt with any sort of great physical pain at all?

Why have I been blessed with the opportunities to go so many places, meet so many wonderful - and sometimes famous - people? Why was I put in a family that is so popular? Why have I grown up in this lovely location - so close to the city, yet with a big enough yard to get filthy in, and plant seeds and run around with dogs? Why did I love school? Why did I have all the opportunity for the best education?

Why does everything always work out so well for me? Why has God blessed me this way, and not them?

If I think about it long and hard, I can find hardships in my life. I grew up feeling like an "odd ball," the "conservative homeschooler." I had a hard time making close friends as a youngster. I've never met my grandfather on my Dad's side. I've struggled with depression. I have asthma. I have a sister I dearly love who struggles with a lot of physical problems. There are loads of places I long to visit that I've never set foot in. I miss having my older sister living at home. Overabundance of money has never been a disease I caught.

But those things don't come to mind when I'm analyzing my life. When I'm struggling with them, in the moment, they seem overwhelming... but in the big picture, they disappear. When I'm summing it all up, I forget to add them to the total. I count my life a blessed thing.

And it doesn't seem fair. Not when all those other people are suffering beyond my comprehension.



But, ...then, do I really know these people? I haven't met them, or talked to them.

Maybe....maybe they're just like me.

Maybe the drama and misery and agony isn't like movies and novels and such would have me believe. Maybe the trials rise and fall, and their life goes on, just like mine. Maybe God is as close - closer - to them in their big troubles as He is to me in my little ones. Maybe they wouldn't trade their trials any more than I would trade mine and the lessons I've learned from them. Maybe God really does chasten those He loves.

Maybe.

Of course.

But what about the babies? What about the men and women and children who actually die?

O God, where are my eyes? What am I asking? I see things from such an earthy point of view. Help me remember that this world is not all there is. It exists for Your glory. All of history - and every life in it - is here for Your glory. You write each story. You know each soul. And when they leave this earth, why am I thinking that they are over, that they are gone? They have only moved.

How could I have forgotten that You love them more than I do? That You know them intimately? That You planned each second of their life before they came into existence?

The answer to my worries and fears lies in the character of God. I can trust His goodness and love.

Psalm 73
1Truly God is good to Israel, even to such as are of a clean heart.
2 But as for me, my feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped.
3 For I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.
4 For there are no bands in their death: but their strength is firm.
5 They are not in trouble as other men; neither are they plagued like other men...

...16 When I thought to know this, it was too painful for me;
17 Until I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end.
18 Surely thou didst set them in slippery places: thou castedst them down into destruction.
19 How are they brought into desolation, as in a moment! they are utterly consumed with terrors.
20 As a dream when one awaketh; so, O Lord, when thou awakest, thou shalt despise their image.
21 Thus my heart was grieved, and I was pricked in my reins.
22 So foolish was I, and ignorant: I was as a beast before thee.
23 Nevertheless I am continually with thee: thou hast holden me by my right hand.
24 Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.
25 Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.
26 My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.
27 For, lo, they that are far from thee shall perish: thou hast destroyed all them that go a whoring from thee.
28 But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.

Joy

You know something I thought about yesterday, that hadn't dawned on me before?

Jesus must have been really joyful.

Think about it. It came to me when I was listening to a message on John 15. There, Jesus tells his disciples that if they abide in Him, their "joy will be full." Then He says that He wants them to abide in Him the same way He abides in the Father. He also mentions that it's HIS joy that will be in us.

All put together, it made me realize that this joy I get whenever I'm close to Jesus is His joy - not just in the sense that He gives it, but that He is the author of it, and it is part of His very essence. Hence, how joyful He must be!

I never really thought about it before. I know Jesus wept on earth. I know He felt pain. But the Bible never says He laughed, or smiled. So I just assumed...Oh, I don't know. I didn't think He was a kill-joy or anything. I certainly thought He smiled and laughed, and was pleasant, and fun to be around...but I didn't think of "joyful" as one of His major characteristics.

But it must have been. It must be, for I can still feel that joy today, thousands of years after He walked the earth. It must be a continuing part of Him - a wonderful part of Him.

That joy I get during close communion with Christ, that spontaneous laughter that bubbles up when I see Him answer a prayer, that excitement I can hardly contain when my eyes are opened to a new truth from His Word...all that joy is His joy,...He feels it too. He started it all.

Can you picture it? Can you picture the joy His disciples felt coming from Him? Can you feel His smile? Can you imagine His laugh? Can you hear the encouragement He would speak, when the disciples were tired?

This is a wonderful thought. It's a wonderful truth. It means that all of the sudden, everything is totally ...wonderful.

Joyfully Yours

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a baby shower, and the devotion time centered around the topic of joy. The lady doing the devotional took her thought from the verse in Psalms that says God makes the barren woman to rejoice, and be a joyful mother of children.

Joyful.

It got me thinking. Through all the talk of being a joyful mother in the midst of crying children, messy houses, frantic schedules, moody days, and spilled coffee on your favorite tablecloth, I saw how this verse applied to me as a single girl.

It's not just this verse. Countless verses in the Bible tell me to be joyful: "Rejoice in the LORD always, and again I say rejoice." "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord." "Serve the Lord with gladness." But I like this verse because it talks about a mother being joyful, and everybody knows that a mother's life - though crowned with the blessing of children - is full of the normal drudgery of everyday life. She has bad days. She has lots of work to do. She has many burdens. And she's supposed to be joyful.

Oh boy, did I see room for preaching in that verse! The Holy Spirit was creating a nice little message out of it, and directing the whole thing right into the center of my heart:

"Look at you! You don't have all the burdens of motherhood, but you deal with some of these same things; you have dirty dishes to wash, and a busy schedule to keep, and younger people depending on you, and rooms to clean, and a tub to wash. And are you joyful? Yes, I know you smile sometimes, and you sing sometimes while you wash dishes, but are you spilling over with that radiant joy that only I can give? Does laughter bubble up? Do you laugh very often? Are your eyes sparkling with love and life? Do you see My hand in things that go wrong? Do you trust Me to work it all out for the best eventually? Why do I see so much stress in your life?"

Ah, Lord, what questions!

You know, I would love to be that young lady who bubbles over with joy. How attractive - and how stress-free! A joyful person is a beautiful person...and how happy a joyful person must make the Lord! They are reflecting how wonderful a walk with Jesus is.

And yet, as I confessed to a friend once, "I feel like somebody needs to stress. I get worried if no one is stressing over things, so I it." Do you every feel that way? You'd like to be that storybook character who brings sunshine into every one's life.....but, hey, come on! real life is here. You have to worry about some things...right? How else will it all get done?

And so we are pressured to stay uptight. Don't relax completely. What? Trust God so much that you don't worry about anything? It's just not natural to be happy all the time. That's not allowed. It's... weird.

Last night I realized - again, and yet for the first time - that it's okay to be joyful. Really. So what if it's not natural, and so what if it feels scary to open my hands and let go? It's okay.

Really.

Go ahead. You know you want to. Laugh. Really hard. Sit still for a moment, in front of your computer screen....close your eyes, and let the tension melt away from your temples and forehead.

You didn't do it, did you? I'm serious. Do it.

Now open your eyes and smile. Really smile, a great big grin. Find someone nearby to turn to and let your eyes sparkle at them. Now laugh, a great big hearty laugh.

Doesn't it feel good? :) :) :) :)

Conversation during Family Bible Time...

Topic: The story of Esther

Part of story: All the maidens being gathered by the King and being given beauty treatments at the palace

Conversation:

One of my brothers: "...Can you imagine that many women in one place, all doing beauty treatments?"

My other brother: "Dude, that place would stink!"





Why is it that most boys don't like the smell of lotion, hair spray, or even perfume? ....*giggle*... I must admit that I don't like hair spray or perfume either!


Note: I realize this is a random post, but I thought maybe it would make you smile too. Let's hear it for brothers who keep us smiling!

My First Vlog!

Is it "Vlog" or "V-log"? I don't know which - all I know is that I wanted to do one. I still sorta do. I'm still sorta glad I'm posting my first one. If I could just get over being mad at my computer.

Note: I wrote this post yesterday, but my computer was being finicky (still) and I just turned the thing off without publishing the post. But today has been love-e-lee, and I think I've got my stock of patience restored, so I decided to try again. Hence you get to enjoy this post a day late. :))

It's been one of those days.

I hate spending all day on the computer. What I hate even more is spending all day on the computer and not getting anywhere.

Don't worry; I didn't spend all day working on a blog post. That was only one of many things I was trying to do on the computer today.

(Notice all the italics and bold lettering? I must still be mad. Sorry.)

On Saturday I recorded my Vlog clips, and spent several hours in the afternoon playing around with them on the video-making program on my computer. I love that thing (the program, not the computer, remember?) I had such fun, adding music, cutting and editing what we had filmed, adding photos, special effects, ...even title and credits! I could do that for a living, ...I think. :)

There's only one problem. I should have known; it happens every time I design a video with this program. It turns out great, but when I try to save it, the format it saves in is....really strange. So strange that no other program can play the video. Not even Windows Media player.

And not even Blogger.

You know what this is leading to.

Yup; I can't upload the video!

Soooo, I'm offering you the very basic clips; un-edited, without music, and certainly no title and credits. Sigh. Just plain old me.

You know what else I did that makes me mad? I uploaded these videos backwards. It comes in two parts, and part 2 is on top. Make sure you watch the last one first. Make sense?








And because it's against my principles to leave my readers feeling as discouraged as I do, I refuse to end on a sour note. Computers are, after all, only machines. And frustrations and bad days are just that; "light afflictions," as the apostle Paul would call them. They don't compare with eternity! Time spent in God's Word does wonders for a bad day. I'm so glad He never changes! Let's praise Him!

When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

Refrain

Count your blessings, name them one by one,
Count your blessings, see what God hath done!
Count your blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

Are you ever burdened with a load of care?
Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear?
Count your many blessings, every doubt will fly,
And you will keep singing as the days go by.

Refrain

When you look at others with their lands and gold,
Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold;
Count your many blessings. Wealth can never buy
Your reward in heaven, nor your home on high.

Refrain

If you loved "The Bethlehem Star," you'll love this too!

It's time for another video recommendation! This one I found by purposely searching for it; I remember watching something very similar to this when I was very little, and when I was reading through Exodus earlier this month, I wanted to find the video again.

I didn't find the exact video I was looking for, but this one is close. Be forewarned; I find the narrator's voice monotonous, but if you can get past that and listen to the facts she states, it's AMAZING. Remember finding out all that cool stuff, if you watched "The Bethlehem Star"? (Which I highly recommend, by the way.) Get ready to get excited again. Some of the stuff on this video is speculation, but the vast majority of it is pictures and videos of real locations in the middle east; things you will see for yourself.

Wanna hear about (and see!) chariot wheels found under the Red Sea?

How 'bout a mountain in Arabia that has a top that is burnt black...with no modern explanation?

Or would you like to see the remnants of an ancient altar at the foot of that mountain...an altar whose origin the nomads don't know, and an altar that has pictures of calves graved in the rocks of which it's built?

Or would you like to see a huge rock in the wilderness of Arabia; a rock that is split in two, with water erosion marks coming out from that crack?

Are you curious yet?

Take the time to watch this first clip. (Just so you know, it gets better the farther along you get. It isn't until you get nearly to the end of this first clip that things start rolling.) Part 2 can be found here, and you'll see links to the rest of the parts from there.

Enjoy!

I love words.

I've been thinking today how easy it is to be dragged here and there by what we read.

I love to read what other people have to say. I'm a natural reader - I don't remember learning how to read, and I was reading 9th grade books in 3rd grade. I just plain love words! I consider that a blessing, but one that comes with its own set of challenges.

...Because, (surprise, surprise!) not everything we read is correct. Or necessary. Or edifying.

Besides being a reader, there's another trait I have. (Boy, this post is starting to sound over-loaded with the word "I!" Sorry!) I'm not sure what to call it....I guess I could call it "lead-able." I've got my own set of convictions, and my family says I love to debate, but I'm also pretty easy to influence. Very easy, I'm afraid. (Yes, I love to debate, but I can switch sides right in the middle of the argument.)

For example, I love to read what my brothers might call "health-nut" blogs, books, and articles. Nutrition fascinates me, and I love to read all the theories out there and how each person implements those theories in their kitchen. Cooking with only organic, fresh foods? Count me in! Eating healthy fats? Sounds right. Make your own bread, pasta, and crackers? What fun! Avoid all process foods? I'll jump on that bandwagon.

...And just about every other bandwagon. And it's not just food, either. I plunge into my latest fad with gusto and do-or-die effort, whether it's making my own shampoo and hair gel because I want to avoid chemicals in my hair, or jumping rope everyday because it's the "proven" secret way to tone the entire body, or writing a series on my blog because somebody else did it and it was great, or planting a certain herb because it's good for gourmet cooking (never mind that I don't do any of that).

...All because I read about somebody else doing it, and I thought it sounded great.

You've had the same thing happen to you, right? Maybe you went to a conference, and came home full of ideas and zeal. Something about listening to the speakers inspired you.

Now just imagine you get "inspired" every time you read something. Anything.

Whew. I'm tired just thinking about it. Yet that's the way I am. ....And I read a lot.

Most of the time I don't worry about this too much. I just enjoy the ride, and afford a lot of amusement to my family along the way as they watch my flops and falls. I enjoy the learning process. The failures are part of the fun...ahem....I mean part of the process.

But the problem comes when I find writers with conflicting opinions. Oh, boy, is that frustrating!!! I read a website one day, and come alive with ideas. I read a book the next day, and change my mind. This new guy has it right. Then I read a blog the day after that, and decided that both previous writers were wrong, and this person is right. (This gets really annoying when the topic is doctrine-oriented.)

What's a girl to do?

I'm not sure. But I do know that it's interesting that most of the time we adopt the viewpoints of what we read much of. We seem to take on the opinions of the writers we admire.

Does anyone see a sermon here? :) :) :)

It's rather reassuring to know that if I spend a lot of time reading what my Heavenly Father has written, I will be absorbing His viewpoint, and picking up His opinion on things. It is a comforting thought, when I'm discouraged about my spiritual progress, or lack thereof.

It's like the little boy whose father told him to take a basket, fill it with water from the stream, and bring it to him. The little boy eagerly ran to do as he was asked, but by the time his little legs had brought the basket from the stream to his father, all the water had leaked out.

"It's empty, Father!"

"Well, go fill it again, Son, and bring it to me."

But the same thing happened again. The boy filled the basket full to the brim, and ran as fast as he could, but again the basket was empty by the time he reached his father.

"Go fill it again, Son."

This happened three times. On the fourth try, the boy stood panting in front of his father with an empty basket, and shook his head.

"I can't do it, Father. This is pointless. The basket won't hold water."

"Yes," the father said, looking down at his son, "but look at how clean the basket is now."

In just that same way, I may not think that what I read everyday in the Bible has changed my life in a dramatic way, but each day as God's Word flows through me, it is cleansing me, and changing me.

Thank God for words, but most of all for HIS Words!!

Joseph's Account

Well, last year during December I thought an awful lot about Mary. This year, my mind is more curious about Joseph. (Though, I admit, I'm still pretty interested in Mary - I just read through that post I wrote last year, and my imagination is whirling again!)

My interest in Joseph could have something to do with the fact that I was asked to write something about Christmas, and my Dad suggested looking at it through Joseph's eyes.

But I'd better start at the beginning.

You see, we have a candlelight service at our church every year on the Sunday night before Christmas. (Well, we call it "candlelight," but because of so many accidents with hot wax in past years we've left out the candles for several years now.) Most of the evening is filled with music; both instrumental and congregational, as well as special singing sometimes. The service is closed with a short message from Pastor. Every year, something is read aloud mid-way through the service. Sometimes it's the Christmas story, from one of the gospels. Other years we hear the story behind one of the Christmas hymns we've sung. Or a moving account of a past Christmas in history, during a war time or something like that.

This year, the father-daughter team who puts together our Christmas Service schedule came to me and asked me to write a short story based on one of the people who was present at the first Christmas. I was thrilled because this gave me an excuse to write another Bible-based story. I've written a couple of those here on my blog. There's my post about Mary, which I already mentioned...and the one about the Prodigal Son...there's the story about Paul and Silas, too, but I left y'all hanging on that one, with the phrase "to be continued." :) :)

I love, love, LOVE that kind of writing. I mean, I just plain love to write anyway, but that kind of writing is my absolute favorite. It reaches down and pulls stuff up from deep inside me. Something about the stories in the Bible inspires me. I hope you don't mind when I let that inspiration take over and write those stories on here occasionally, instead of storing them in my "sheet files" folder on my desktop.

I don't think y'all mind. If you do, you hide it very well. You have only ever been kind and encouraging when leaving me comments. It is with that in mind I have decided to share with you the story I've written for our Christmas Service. I hope it makes you think as much as it made me think! :)

Love,
Amber

Joseph's Account

Mary was with child.

I couldn't – wouldn't – believe it until Mary herself, unshed tears in her eyes, assured me it was true. We had just finished the evening meal (I often ate with her family in those days) and had been reclining comfortably as we talked. I was unaware of the spear that was about to be thrust into my life.

Mary's lips trembled as she spoke, but her voice was determined. She said she was the mother of the Messiah, and that God Himself had put the child in her womb. She even said the child she carried was the Son of God.

How could I believe such a thing? Her father shook his head as he sat there behind her. If such a tale were true, would not he and her mother know it? It was very unlike Mary to have this far-fetch explanation. ...Yet it was also unlike her to be with child when she was betrothed.

How could Mary do such a thing? Hadn't she breathed out numerous pledges of love to me? Had she not treated all other men with gracious disinterest? We already had plans for the wedding. She had seemed so happy and content. Surely this situation was not her fault. Someone else...? I lifted my face to ask her the question, but her voice was tearful as she insisted there was no one else.

I left her home that night wanting to dash my head against a stone wall. Why did she persist in this wild tale? If only she would break down and admit to everything, it would be so much easier to forgive her.

My strained mind was already searching for a plan. I still had time to break the betrothal without explaining the real reason to our friends and neighbors. There were still a few more months before Mary would be unable to keep her secret.

“God of our fathers, help me!” I pleaded even as I hurried home. “What am I to do?” The scribes would say the law demanded Mary's death, but now-a-days that old law was rarely enforced – only when the husband or betrothed pressed charges. My heart knew I could do no such thing to the woman I had loved.

Did I still love her? My heart screamed yes, but my fists clenched as I thought of her. Then I thought that surely it was not her fault, and I felt no anger - only hopelessness. There was no easy way out of this problem, and I clung to Jehovah God as the only sure thing in my world at that moment.

Several days passed before I made my decision; I would put Mary away quietly. Breaking our betrothal was the only thing to be done. I could not bring myself to have her publicly accused, and yet I could not bring myself to marry her.

I did not tell anyone about my decision. Not yet. It was still too painful. I avoided her family, but I saw Mary's face in all my thoughts. She was there, in my mind, when I worked in the shop. I dreamed of Mary every night.

Every night, that is, until the night he was there, in my dream.

As a little boy I had always wished I had been born during King David's time, as one of his mighty men. I loved to pretend I was a mighty warrior. But never had I imagined any warrior as mighty as the being who was in my dream that night. His splendor and brightness took my breath from my lungs and I was left speechless. His voice resonated deep into my mind;
“Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife; for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call His name JESUS: for He shall save his people from their sins.”

I woke with a start, breathing heavily. My palms were damp with sweat. So it was true! The idea of doubting that messenger never entered my head. I don't think anyone could have seen him and doubted.

At first, all I could think about was that I could take Mary. He had said so! The LORD would not be angry with me. I ached to see her and tell her I believed her story at last.

But then I shook myself further awake and realized where that child in her womb had come from. For a moment I forgot to breathe. Shivers ran down my spine. After thousands of years of promises, Jehovah God was finally sending the Messiah! What was more, apparently the Messiah was no mere mighty man, as the Pharisees would have us think. He was divine. I could not quite wrap my mind around that thought.

But I understood one thing; I could see Mary again. I sprang to the window and was filled with joy to see the sun was rising. Ten minutes later I was breathlessly entering her father's house and saying, “Mary, I believe you!”

The next six months were filled with every emotion God has given to man. In my first joy at having Mary back, I had not thought about all the difficulties we would face.

First we had to convince her parents that I truly wished to wed her and raise this child as my own. Then the whispers started – my customers in the shop talked to one another behind my back, and dropped vague hints to my face. I had always held a reputation of being an honorable and just man, and I think many of my customers were confused that I stuck by Mary, even in her situation. I tried to explain, but I don't think they really believed what I told them.

Mary and I had so many decisions to make. God was finally sending the Promised One! Such thrilling news I had hoped to hear in my lifetime, yet now it was much more personal than I ever thought it would be. It was also much more intimidating. Should I teach him my trade of carpentry, as if he were my true son? What would this Messiah be like, anyway? What were we expected to do with him? There was a moment of pain when I thought that I would not be able to name him my own name, as I had always wished to name my first son.

“But he isn't your firstborn,” Mary said gently. That always made my brain ache with awe, because it made me remember whose son that baby was.

It was hard, finding a balance. Some days I thought of the unborn baby as my own. Other days he was a stranger – and a very intimidating stranger at that.

During the very last month our situation was made worse by the journey we were forced to take. I worried about Mary. I muttered under my breath a few times, wishing to call our Ceasar all sorts of names, but I kept quiet and focused on helping Mary as much as I could. It was some consolation to remember we would be seeing the city of David again.

The place was packed when we arrived. It was all I could do to find us lodging in the stable of the inn – and I was charged ridiculously high for even that. But I didn't care; Mary was exhausted and I just wanted a place for her to lie down.

It was late that night I awoke to her nudging. Things had happened so quickly after that....and yet so slowly.

And then, there I was; leaning against the wall of the stable while the old innkeeper's daughter tended to Mary. A sudden cat-like wail of a baby filled the stall next to me, and my feet slipped out from under me in my hurry to stand up.

In a moment I was rounding the corner of the stall and on my knees next to Mary. The inn keeper's daughter was tending to the baby, using the swaddling clothes I had managed to find three hours ago. I grasped Mary's hand, but couldn't take my eyes off the child.

He was a perfectly formed little human. So very human. When the woman finished with him and handed him to Mary, I still had not found words to speak. The little one cried just like every baby I had even seen, and snuggled next to his mother so very naturally. It was hard to think he could possibly be divine. Yet the memory of the angel came back to me to assure me that this child was indeed divine – the Savior of our people.

Mary had quieted him, and she looked up at me. “Do you want to hold him?” she asked.

I held out my arms and took him in them. He was so light. So tiny.

“...And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call His name JESUS: for He shall save his people from their sins.” The angel's voice rang in my head.

“Jesus,” I spoke his name to him for the first time. I wanted to tell him how we had waited and waited for him to be there, but I just kept looking at him.

To think, that I had the Son of God in my hands....and was responsible for raising him. I didn't feel equal to the task.

But then the little eyes fluttered open, and Jesus looked at me.

And I knew that the years he spent in our home would be the very best years of my life.

Whay hasn't Amber been posting much lately?

Why?

Well, it's not because I'm busy. I know that's the favorite excuse of blog authors; "I'm so sorry, but I've been SO busy!!!!" I have been busy, but I can always find time to write if I want to. :) :)

No, the reason I haven't written is more complicated.

When I first started this blog my parents were a little unsure about the whole "blog" thing - they know me well enough to know that, while I'm very reserved in person, I most often forget caution while writing, and tell my entire life history and current emotional status to the page.

That's all very well and good when the page is my hidden journal. It's not so advisable, however, when the page happens to be a screen, and anyone around the world can read it.

But (obviously), my parents consented to my having a blog, so long as I exercised caution in writing on it.

That, my dear friends, is why I haven't been posting much lately. Because I couldn't write and exercise caution at the same time. My heart has been so full lately...for several months, which seems to be a lifetime. I feel as if to do a post about cooking, or sewing, or something light-hearted would not be real. It wouldn't be.

I've been terribly busy with such things - and other things, too - but that's not where my mind is dwelling most of the time. And, despite my blog title, I write here what's on my mind, not just what's coming out my fingers and hands.

What do you do when your heart is full and you're not sure where to spill it out? Do you keep it precariously balanced, hoping you won't spill a drop for fear it will ruin whatever it spills on? Do you lose all caution and spill it out to the first acquaintance who asks how you're doing? Do you seek your bosom friends - your closest dear ones?

What do you do if you can't find them? What do you do if you tell them and they don't understand? Or what do you do if they understand but can't do anything about your problems?

Talk to Jesus, of course.

I think that's why we go through rough times. You are close to your dear ones because you've gone through thick and thin with them. Mere acquaintances haven't cried with you. They haven't seen your faults and flops. And we get close to Jesus when we cry in His lap.

I read a verse this morning that I know was written for me. It's from Romans. I don't remember exactly where, and I'm typing this from memory, so forgive me if it's not word-perfect;

"...we rejoice in tribulations, knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope. And hope maketh us not ashamed, because the love of God is spread abroad in our hearts through the Holy Ghost which is given us."

I really am starting to understand what he means about "rejoicing in tribulation." Can I tell you a secret? There actually have been several times when I've seen trials coming and gotten excited because I thought, "Oh goody!! How is God going to change me through this one?" I couldn't wait to be more like Jesus when emerging from the other side of the valley. Yes, I actually was excited.

And you know what? I was embarrassed by my excitement. I knew very well what was expected of me - I was supposed to dread this trial! (Yes, they were actual trials, and I wasn't blind or naive; I knew they were going to be painful.) I was supposed to struggle and cry and be miserable! I didn't want to.....but I gave it my best effort, for the world's sake. It wouldn't be proper to be happy in such circumstances. If I clasped my hands and smiled, they would look at me as if I were crazy!

This morning's reading freed me. I suddenly realized that the Bible says it's okay to rejoice when you see trouble coming! I know - I should have known that before. I mean, I did know it....but I didn't really internalize it.

Now where was I going with this train of thought? Oh yes - trials.

Well, I guess I'm in the middle of one. Have been, for several months. Some days I feel like rejoicing...but it's as if, since I gave in to "mourning," like I was "supposed" to, it's hard to work back out of the pit. But in my heart that verse still rings true....I know without doubt that trials teach patience...and patience gives experience. ....And experience teaches me HOPE. ...And somewhere mixed up in that hope will be joy. :) :)

Isn't that lovely? How does God know so much about real life? Oh, what a silly question.

Forgive me for not posting oftener. I've had very "fruitful hands" lately; many projects...so maybe there will be an actual interesting post here in a few days. I'm not making any promises, but we'll see. :)

In the meantime, hello to all you dear friends, and may you have a blessed Lord's Day tomorrow!

But I might NEED it someday!!!!!!

Yup, I'm officially a pack rat.

Or a "keeper."

Or whatever you call them in your family. You know the type; the ones who can't bear to throw anything away because they "might need it someday!" The ones who have kept every gift they were ever given - AND all the wrapping paper it came in. They have a decently clean bedroom, but woe to the person who should open their top dresser drawer, or get a peak at the mountain of boxes in the basement!

What is worse is a secret pack rat. It's really hard to be, let me tell you. Of course, everyone knows your secret, but you pretend they don't. You even develop a sort of warped pride about how neatly all your stuff is stored or stacked. And when you go through your closet and get rid of 2 skirts and 5 shirts....whew! You are really on a roll! Aren't you the perfect picture of a minimalist? ...Of course, you try to forget the fact that you stored those same 2 skirts and 5 shirts downstairs in a box. You need that comfort - it's nice to know they're down there in case you regret your sudden weeding of your wardrobe.

You also try to forget that you have clothes down there from the weeding of your closet that took place when you were fourteen.

My mental picture of a pack rat is someone who is messy. They have all that "junk" pouring out of their garage doors...their attic is packed to the bursting point...they can't shut their closet doors. Never do I picture a pack rat who has a neat bedroom or nearly-empty garage.

But I've come to the conclusion that it's all in the attitude. It's that worrisome nagging in the back of your mind - that urge to hold tight to what you have. And you can hold as tightly to 2 skirts and 5 shirts as you can to 200 skirts and 500 shirts.

I like the minimalist idea. I really do. Pictures of Victorian living rooms, with all that clutter, annoys me. They honestly thought that was pretty? You'd have to walk sideways to get out of the room without knocking over a lamp, falling into a chair, or bumping a picture off the wall. I much prefer the country look, where only what is used and loved is in a room. I like that saying "have nothing in your home which you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful."

I used to like having a lot of knick-knacks and wall hangings, and all that sort of thing, but in the past several years my tastes have changed. Now, if I am not using it, or it doesn't absolutely make me smile and laugh for joy when I see it (like pictures of loved ones), I don't want it in my room.

So of course I'm not a pack rat...am I?

Well, the truth is....I still have all those knick-knacks and wall hangings and clothes and photos and calendars and lamps and whatever else I had when I loved packing my room with "stuff"! Even though I don't really need or care for those things any more, I keep them. ...Because I might need them someday.

So I might as well face the truth; I'm a pack rat. And I'm gonna do more than just publicly admit that; I'm gonna tell you my worse faults in my pack-ratting!

#1 - I'm pretty bad about keeping clothes, as I've already hinted. It's sad...but I've gotten a bit better in this area in the past year or so. I think I've gotten rid of 2 boxes so far. ...Don't ask about what's left.

#2 - And I'm pretty terrible at throwing fabric scraps away. I have a two scrap boxes, and they have scraps in them the size of threads. ...In fact, I occasionally keep scrap thread, too. Honest.

#3 - I'm even worse about keeping papers. I have a box in the basement that has school notebooks from when I was learning long division. ...No, not the textbooks. The papers I wrote my answers on. (You must understand I have a love affair with writing....and I guess I can't stand to see paper or books in the trash...even junk mail.)

#4 - But what I'm absolutely, positively terrible at getting rid of is files. My conscience has lots to soothe it on this point. They're computer files, right? That means they don't take up visible space, they don't clutter my room, and they are certainly something that I'd miss if my computer crashed.

...Well, maybe. I don't know. It could just be me. ...But I really think something is wrong with my computer. A little while ago I tried to play a song I had downloaded from the web, and windows media player wouldn't play it. The pop-up said "Your computer is too low on memory to play this song. Please try closing some programs and try again." I only had 5 programs up!

...Of course, I do have a lot of pictures stored on here. And I do have over a dozen books I'm "thinking about writing," and each book requires an average of 3 to 7 files....I don't know. Maybe I do have stuff I'm not using on here. I could probably do without the receipts for everything I've ever bought online. And maybe I wouldn't miss the internet program I switched off of. ...But what if I want to switch back?

Yes, I'm afraid I'm a pack rat. I hang on to stuff. It's really tempting to treat this as a kind of joke - lots of people laugh about their pack rat tendencies, and I could easily be one of them.

But is it right or wrong to hang on to stuff so tightly?

I guess it depends on where those feelings come from. I know that part of my pack-rattedness (what a word!) comes from my hatred of waste.

Really.

I hate waste with a passion. I can't stand to see perfectly good items being thrown away...like that piece of junk mail. Think of the cost of the ink and paper!!! And fabric - whew - that stuff isn't cheap. And you'd better prepare yourself for a lecture if I see you throwing a can away. Rinse it out and put it down in the bin in the basement, with all the rest of my collected tin cans. Some day we'll recycle them. I even reuse paper towels if they aren't too dirty.

But there's also a part of me that wants to keep stuff that I could give away to a good home. After all, giving away clothes to someone who could use them isn't a waste at all. ...So I can't blame my stash of clothes on a hatred of waste. That stash is being wasted right now - I can't possibly wear it all.

So it's a mix. Some of the causes of my P.R. tendencies are good, and some aren't.

So I can't tell you about the pack-ratted-ness of everyone else, but I know that my conscience squirms every time I read these words:

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?
Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?
(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.
But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.
Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

I could have copied out most of this chapter (Matthew 6), but I thought it might be a little long. This whole chapter focuses on Christ telling His disciples not to hold so tightly to the world.

It's easy to say, "Oh, I'm not attached to the world. Christ means more to me than anything." But there's also a certain way of living that just seems so....loose. So free. So unattached. So unhindered.

I'm thinking of a certain family I know. They are so generous - not just with money, but with items and time and everything they have. I have never seen anyone treat possessions so flippantly - unless I count another couple who once let us have their home for several days (that's another story of God's provision!).

But this family constantly amazes and rebukes me with the way they live. Things flow through them, not to them. It's as if they own nothing. ...And you know what? I think that's what they think.

At first it seemed very scary to watch. ...But I kinda envy that freedom. They don't have to worry about what isn't theirs.

It makes ya think.

Before I tumble into bed....

I had an absolutely indescribable day. Loved every minute of it! From 8:30am to 5:30pm I was at the Celebrate the Glory conference. I spoke of this conference before here at The Fruit of Her Hands. It is designed to encourage families to study God's Word together every day, and is held in a beautiful outdoor community center. This was the third year for the annual conference.

Wonderful speakers and music! Very encouraging. Dad and I even had the pleasure and honor of speaking at a session, as I mentioned we would on this blog several days ago. Between sessions I sold books and CDs at our family's table, and got to talk with folks. I saw so many friends and met so many wonderful new people!

Some dear friends of ours, whom we've not seen in over a year, came to the conference and then came home with us for supper afterward. Their family is very musical, and we not only had splendid fellowship in talking and laughing and praying and singing together, but got to have a "jam session" too, with two guitars, a banjo, a dobro, a mandolin, and five fiddles/violins!!!!

I have been running on adrenalin for just about the last 48 hours... I have tasted only one of my meals today, and can remember only about 1/3 of what I heard and said this morning. My toes are still warming up from the freezing weather during the outdoor conference, while my cheeks and ears are still hot and bright red from excitement and laughter. I slept very little last night, and know intellectually that I'm tired, but I have no consciousnesses of fatigue....only a faint fuzzy feeling in my brain that is steadily growing. My heart is still racing and my mind is still spinning.

What makes it strange is I don't know what emotion I am feeling. Am I feeling the remains of frayed nerves? Was I nervous about speaking at the conference? (Was I? I still don't know.) Am I shaking because I haven't warmed up yet? Then why am I so hot, and my palms a little sweaty? Am I just feeling excitement that hasn't worn off yet? Why can I feel my brain spinning when I don't even know what I'm thinking....or if I'm thinking?

Did I enjoy today? Totally. What did I like best? I really don't know. It was a beautiful, splendid, exhilarating blur. I would gladly repeat it. I already miss our dear friends who have left us after only a short visit. I ache to see them more often, and it was only maturity and the dignity of almost-adulthood that kept me from chasing after their van as they left, yelling, "Come back! Don't go! Staaaaay!"

I also loved speaking at the conference. I know I am a rarity - enjoying public speaking - but I enjoy it for a different reason than others might think. I enjoy it because it is a strange time of uncommon closeness with my Heavenly Father. How can I explain this...? I don't know how to describe what it's like.

When I know I am going to speak somewhere, I spend time praying and wrestling with ideas, begging God to give me something worth saying - something that is honoring to Him. Then I write down what comes to my mind - every word and phrase. Then I run those words over in my mind many times, for several days. Usually God brings someone into my life who says something to me that makes me start thinking differently all over again....and I re-write what I had written down. That may happen several times.

I write in a different way when I'm preparing something to say rather than something to be read. I take note of how I feel when I'm saying the words in my mind, and write that into it.

When I feel at peace what I have written, I memorize it - every emotion, every pathos of voice, everything God has laid on my heart. I know that if I don't internalize it during this preparation time, I will never get a blessing out of it myself. ...Because I never hear myself on the actual day I speak.

No, on the day I speak, when I get up there, after time spent alone in prayer, I - though this sounds funny - just let my mouth run. I know my tongue knows what I believe God wants me to say, so I let it work itself. My mind is usually not involved. Instead, my mind is earnestly asking God to work. And my eyes are looking at the faces I see before me. And I begin to see God answering my prayers.

It is this time of communication with God that so draws me to speaking. It is the strangest feeling, to know that my body and voice are in front of many people, but at the same time my soul and heart are far away, before ONE. I love the closeness I feel to Him, and the sense of urgency that is always in my prayers at a time like that.

What did Dad and I talk about today? Family Devotions. Dad shared about what first convicted him to study God's Word together in our family, and I talked about what it's like to receive the blessing that God pours on the children of those who follow Him. Though there were many other young people there who also know what it's like to be blessed that way, all the other speakers were fathers who were looking at things from the other side of the coin; they were encouraging parents to teach their children the Word because they will be blessed.

I had the immense privilege of describing that blessing that has already fallen on me.

It was a wonderful honor. I got to look those parents in the face and tell them "It's not in vain! Be encouraged! God really does fulfill His promise to bless the children who are taught His Word." Of course I explained that it's also a personal thing - I talked about how I myself fell in love with God - but I couldn't help loving to be able to stand up there as an older child and say how thankful I am for how my parents obeyed God's instructions to teach their children the Word.

Whew - now I'm excited all over again! It's 12:24 in the morning, and I know I'll be tired tomorrow, but I couldn't go to sleep without getting some of this out of my system. I had such a wonderful day. Talking with people after the conference sessions finished was wonderful, too. Encouraging younger families - and being blessed myself by talking to older families - is something I could easily do all day long and not tire of it. I was blessed SO much today in different conversations I had with folks. It's refreshing to be with folks who earnestly care about making Christ the center of their home, and who want to talk about that subject!

Well, I'm afraid I've been much too long-winded. I shall make an effort to get some sleep. If this post has been rather tumble-style and rambling, or too full of "me" and "I," just ignore it and know that I at least was able to tumble out the story of my day so my mind could relax a little. Thanks for listening. :) :) :)

P.S. Neely Family; I MISS YOU!!

Another bit of imagination

He lounged on a hard bench in the narrow shadow of the overhang above him. Precious little shade was cast by the bit of flat roof that stuck out farther than the wall, but it was enough to keep the burning sun off his face. His legs, propped farther out, caught the full force of the sun, and even though their bronze shade showed they had spent much time in the heat, they glistened with sweat, just like the rest of him.

Vitus played idly with the whip in his hands, using the very tip to flick a nearby pebble and send it bouncing several feet away. It was not often he had a few minutes to sit and watch the traffic of Philippi flow by. His brown eyes flitted from figure to figure in the market area across the street. It was one of many in the large city, and contained mainly finer goods.

Vitus spotted a small group of men who were talking earnestly beside one booth, and recognized them as the travelers who had been in the area for several days now.

"Philosophers of some sort." They preached a strange sort of religion that followed but one God, and yet also followed a dead man. Vitus had heard only bits and pieces of what they said. "And I would not even give them that were it not for the attention focused on them from another someone."

"There they are!" It was her. She had spotted that group of men again. Threading her way through the crowded street, she headed for the market area. Her shimmery golden wrap fell in her hurry, exposing one shoulder and a long pale neck. Black curls cascaded down her shoulders in an alluring manner. Many men considered her beautiful, but Vitus shivered when he looked at those black eyes. They did not see what was before them; they saw something evil and vague. Everyone knew that Aeola could foretell the future.

Vitus glanced over his shoulder at the prison door, just feet from where he sat, remembering the day Aeola had been placed in his charge there. She had been seized by the authorities when she first came to town, wandering around in a confused state, sure to cause trouble. No one knew where she had come from or what had made her the way she was, but when a rich father and son had offered to buy her as a slave, rather than letting her rot in prison cell, the authorities quickly sold her. Her new masters let her wander as she pleased during the day, and she told fortunes to those who paid her. A young man - also a slave of the same masters - followed her at a distance and kept an eye on her. She gave all the money she made to her masters. She seemed not to know the value of the coins she was given.

"There they are!" Again Aeola cried out, staring at the philosophers with her empty black eyes. "Listen to them!" She grabbed the sleeve of the man nearest to her, but he, accustomed to her presence and odd ways, laughed, shook her off, and turned back to his haggling. She tried the next man. "These men are servants of the most high God, which shew unto us the way of salvation!" she sang in her strange, high, voice. He rolled his eyes and motioned for the lad who followed her to take her off somewhere else.

Aeola darted forward, passing very close to Vitus, and headed for the market area. Once there, she stood in the very group of men and women the preachers were talking with. "These men are servants of the most high God! They show unto us the way of salvation!"

"She's been at this for days," Vitus mused. "Salvation. How can such as she know anything about salvation? She knows nothing of any god - only the strange and awful creatures she deals with in order to learn the future."

"Salvation! They are servants of the most high God!" Aeola's shrill voice rang out much louder than that of the preacher's. One of the men who was not speaking leaned over and whispered something to the main speaker, who shook his head. Vitus was amazed at the patience of these men. Aeola had been following them around for many days now, yelling during all their attempts to preach.

Apparently they were giving up for the morning. The preaching stopped. The crowd disbanded. The men turned and headed toward the street again. A few interested men of the city walked with them, discussing what they had heard preached. Aeola followed.

"Give heed to these men!" she shrieked.

The oldest of the men, who was deeply involved in a conversation with a man of Philippi, finally stopped in the middle of the road, only a few yards from where Vitus sat. He turned to face Aeola.

She stood with her mouth not quite closed. Her eyes were as empty as ever, but fastened on the man who had turned to look at her. When their eyes met she jerked suddenly, and her delicate hands fluttered. She seemed to be incapable of speaking.

Vitus tore his gaze off the woman to look at the man. His face was very grave; almost...sad. He was studying the woman.

Vitus suddenly realized how quiet the street was. He sensed that everyone in the market area was staring at this man and woman, but he dared not look away. He could not. Not a donkey brayed. Even the gurgle of the fountain seemed muted.

In a slow, deep voice, the man spoke. "I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her."

The change was instantaneous. Those black eyes were suddenly clouded. Anger, hatred, and putrid, evil things passed behind her pupils, fighting in some sort of battle. Her face muscles convulsed in terrible ways, and her body shook. With a loud scream that chilled Vitus' very bones she covered her face and sank down on her knees in the dust.

Then she was still. The man watched her for a moment, then turned and continued on his way. His companions followed him; a few of them casting backward glances at the woman who knelt in the street.

It was not until they had disappeared from view that Aeola moved again. She slowly sat up and looked about her. By chance, her head turned towards Vitus, and she met his eyes for a moment. A second later she seemed to gather her strength, for she sprang to her feet and ran down the road the preachers had taken. The young man assigned to watch her had been hanging back with the rest of the market-goers, but he now grabbed her arm.

"Aeola! You will leave them alone now! You have caused enough trouble."

"No." She shook his hand off, her voice clear and earnest. "I must speak with him." She ran out of sight, her bare feet as fleet as a gazelle.

Her young guard stood for a moment in shock, staring after her. Then he turned and ran in the direction of his masters' home.

A hand touched Vitus' own arm, and he jumped, then turned to see his wife. She had come out of their home, which adjoined the prison where Vitus was keeper.

"Did you see that?" she asked.

"Her eyes."

"What?"

"Her eyes," Vitus whispered. "They saw mine."

"I've never heard her voice so clear and...knowing as it was when she spoke just then. Do you suppose - do you suppose, Vitus - that she possibly has regained her senses?"

"Her eyes knew what they were seeing. They saw mine," he repeated. "She will never look into the future with those eyes."

"But how did he do it? How is it possible?"

"I don't know. He used the name of his God. Jesus Christ."

"Then it is a new God he preaches. There is something behind what he is saying. You have heard him more than I, Vitus; what has he said?"

"He says we are in danger. He says this God will judge the world sometime soon."

Alarm crossed his wife's face.

"Do not worry. I do not believe everything he says."

"...But Aeola...?"

"I know." Vitus stood and flicked his whip again. "There is something going on in this city - and I don't like it. Those men will cause trouble. Did you see Aeola's keeper dashing off to find his masters? They will come to find her. And when they do, do you think Aeola will go with them any more than she would go with her keeper? They will be paying those philosophers a visit soon - and not a pleasant one."

"What do you think - "

"Agathi, I am only a jailer. I do not meddle with these things. Now, I have my rounds to make, and you have our evening meal to make. Begone with you."

Vitus looked once more where Aeola had disappeared. His insides still shook with the tensions of the scene he had just watched. Those men had uncanny powers. They were going to cause trouble. He just knew it.



TO BE CONTINUED.

Will you come visit with me?

I've often wished I could invite every one of my readers to have pizza with my family and I one evening. Unfortunately, I don't think very many of you live across town. (And I also don't think our cupboards contain more than 8 pizza pans.) ...But, seriously, wouldn't it be fun to get together and talk in person? You sweet ladies and girls have been the most wonderful readers I could imagine. I feel like I'm friends with you all.

I can't invite you all to our home, but I do have an event, on October 17th, that I would like to invite you to attend - my family and I will be there, and I would so love to meet some of you there!



Celebrate the Glory. That's what the event is called. CTG for short. It's a conference, a gathering of families, who are coming together to celebrate the glory of God's word. Speakers will be there who want to encourage families to read the Bible together every day, and study God's Word together.

The simplicity takes some getting used to. CTG is not about "how to preserve your marriage," "how to raise amazing children," "how to grow your church over 5,000," or "how to witness to 20 people a day." It's just about celebrating the beauty, uniqueness, holiness, and sufficiency of God's Word. That's it.

My family attended the very first CTG, and we're pleased to be going back again for our third year. The meeting is held in the lovely foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the fall colors show promises of being gorgeous this year. We look forward to listening to speakers and visiting with old and new friends during the 2-hour lunch break. Meeting new friends is one of my favorite parts of the day!!! I hope I'll get to meet some of you this year.

For information on what speakers will be there (we know some of them from past years, and are looking forward to hearing them again!), expenses (registration/attendance is free - lunch is available for those who want to buy it), times, location, and other such details, click here.

Oh yes - one more thing. When you visit that info page, you might want to click on the "Guest Bios" link. Way down at the bottom of the guest bios, you'll come to a bit about a father-daughter team who will be speaking at the conference. The daughter has written a book about family devotions, and about children having the right attitude about being discipled by their parents. At CTG, her father will speak about leading devotions in the home, and then she'll say a word to the young people there, trying to encourage them in their role as disciples.

I do hope you'll say a prayer for that daughter and father and their family. They have a heart to see families loving God's Word, and they so want to be a blessing at this conference. If you are able to make it to CTG, be sure to stop by and talk to this girl. I know she'll love to meet you. In fact, she'll be thrilled.

You see, that girl is me.