Moments

Over this long lifetime, I have been called a rock on several occasions following some pretty sketchy situations and events.  But I know the truth.  I am just as scared and uncertain as anyone else.  And, as I told someone once who called me a rock after a really hard-to-deal-with event, "I am not a rock, but I am standing on one."  That Rock is Jesus.   And, after all these years, and all I have been through, Jesus still  shows up when the skies grow dark. He still comforts.  He still provides.  He still intercedes and empowers.   No, I'm not the rock.  Jesus is.  And when my own strength is lacking, I come again to the blessing that Jesus is enough for me to stand firm upon the Rock of Ages in the storm.  

  When I moved my front steps, an opossum scurried away from under it and escaped under the house.    But the unusual thing about this opossum was that she was carrying an arched tail load of countless young, pink babies.   As I continued to work to repair the steps, I noticed there was a baby possum lying helplessly there in the dirt.   The little creature had missed the bus on the quick exit by the mother.   However, as I stood there, leaning on my shovel, looking at the little helpless baby opossum, out from under the house came the mother possum, still fully loaded with a tail full of many small possums.   She gathered the baby onto her tail and off back under the house she went.    How did she know she had left one?   There were so many, all looking alike.   Why would she risk coming back with me standing with a shovel right there above her for just another baby when she had so many already?    Why the one? God lo...

 "Father, I rise today in your strength.   Renew my body.  Refresh my spirit and give me courage for whatever lies ahead.   Let your joy be my strength and your peace guard my heart."

  Taken for what they are, many things don’t make any sense.   Custom, habit, and consistent use, and exposure have given many traditions a reality we cannot fully understand.   And maybe we don’t need to. We just accept and take it for. And, it works. For instance, we take the ability to love for granted.   We can care deeply about the welfare of someone besides ourselves.   That is quite unnatural, and when you think about that, it doesn’t make any sense.   Why should we care?   Their pain is not our pain.   Why should we care about someone else’s pain?   Why does a beautiful sight stir us so?   We travel all over the world to see sights.   Why?   We can’t eat it, drink it, or live there.   Why should we care? I propose that the ability to deeply love, appreciate, and care so much about things is a gift from God, coming as part of the package of an intimate relationship with Him.   “His ways are past finding out...

  This morning, up early, and the house is dark.  Not wanting to wake anyone up, I left the lights off to come down the stairs.  I could not see the stairs.  I could not see my feet.  But, even in the dark, I knew where the banister was.  When I put my hands on the banister, I could tell where the steps were.  Holding on to the banister, I made it down to the kitchen without incident.  Life is like that a lot.  God can be like that banister in our lives.  Often, what lies ahead is dark.  Our worldly vision is useless.  But, in the darkness and unknown of this world, we can know where the banister is, where Jesus is.  Putting hands on the banister in the dark is like holding the hand of Jesus as we walk through the darkness of this world and the darkness and unknown of our own lives.   There was a comfort when I put my hands on the banister this morning, and I felt secure that I could walk down the stairs in the d...

Woke up very early, too early to get up and wake the rest of the family. It was a good time for prayers.  So I lay there on my back in the bed and tried to pray and meditate on speaking to God.  My prayers felt impotent, and I drifted off on other subjects of a more worldly nature, like all I wanted to do today. It was frustrating not to be able to stay with God. After all He has brought me through and brought me to, I could not talk to Him without worldly interruptions. So, I gave up wondering what had happened that I could no longer connect with prayer like I once did.  Sitting on the side of the bed, I put my head in my hands and wondered what had gone wrong.   Then, with head in my hands, I bowed a little lower and asked God, How do I get it back. For a few moments, I didn't pray but sat there on the side of the bed with my head bowed.   Then it came.  I prayed, and it was real, like before.  Interruptions from the world didn't stand a ch...