Moments

 Read this in a Charles Stanley brochure called "A Quiet Heart."   I found it inspirational and encouraging as well as challenging.  "The Lord isn't asking you to move mountains.  He's asking you to be faithful in the little things, to be present where He's placed you.  The outcome isn't your job.  Showing up and letting Him work through you is." Showing up and letting Him work through me; my challenge and my calling this day. It would seem to do so I would need to surrender more of myself to Him.  In fact, I need to surrender it all.  Like the song says, "I surrender all.  All to Him I owe."  I owe all, and that is the quantity to be faithful; I must surrender.  Jesus paid it all, not some, not almost all.  He surrendered all.   Lord help me surrender all this day .

  The day started cold and clear in central Texas.  A calm day with a deep blue sky and fall crispy in the air.  The kind of day that makes the calves run and play:  the kind of day that is living in the country at its best.  Cutting firewood with a lifelong friend, bending the back, swinging the axe, good conversation, laughter, heavy wood, and the feel and sound of the wood cracking at the strike of the axe.  Ah, what a great axe.  It has been in the shed, silent and still, for over a year, but today it is the star performer, an object of praise and appreciation.  There was no stopping the work. This day, like the relentlessly fading daylight, just won’t last.  As dusk settles, quietly bringing crisp fall air, only a pile of lifeless wood and a settled place inside ourselves is left to commemorate this day.  It was a good day; indescribably good, without a good reason for it being so.  Without a known reason, reflection upon the...

  Be the man you have always wanted to be," That is the wording of some spam sent to me, suggesting I get their product to pump up my masculinity, so to speak. I smiled. But something about the phrase made me think a little deeper. Am I the man I have always wanted to be? Setting aside the masculinity stuff, I pondered the question. I thought back over all I have done; all the places within and without that I have been, and the direction I am heading; the path I am on. Am I the man I have always wanted to be? Goodness! But I have taken a lot of wrong turns; done some things I needed a lot of forgiveness for. I have made enough mistakes and fallen often enough that I just have to laugh at myself. But, I have been forgiven, and I have been freed; picked up and set aright, and put back on course. Now, with most of my lifetime behind me, my days are drawing closer to the finish line. It brings forth the vision of me at the end of a race. It is night. Lights are beaming all around....

  Is it hard sometimes to trust that God has a plan?  When all you can see is pain, discomfort, and discouragement, how do you believe it will turn out for the best according to God's will? According to God's will, it sometimes seems so indistinct.  You just can't get your mind around that when your back is killing you, and you haven't gotten any real sleep in days.  God's will, what is that when you are down to your last thread of hope for your life? Maybe only a thread is all the  hope  you need if  you can trust God with enough faith, to believe the impossible for yourself, to accept "to live and truly take it in that "to live is Christ, to die is gain."  

  My granddaughter was playing on a big pile of dirt, enjoying the simplicity of things that children seem to find so easily. We were on my road that led through the woods. I was there with her, dozing in my truck to protect and defend if necessary, or just to watch and care. We were safe here in this part of the world; this little island of security in an insecure and unsettled world.  My eyes opened when I heard a voice. It was my granddaughter's voice; a quiet tone, singing  I am going to my Father's house.  There in the woods on this dirt pile, with her grandfather being near, she felt safety, security, and comfort in the midst of all that is wrong in the world. We are His children, and even in this place and time, our Father "neither slumbers nor sleeps." He is watching over us as we play out our lives on our little hills of this world. We are His: "in this world but not of it," and our ultimate security is not our little islands in a forest but withi...

  One morning, as I was running early, I started to feel weak.  The legs felt trembly like they were made of Jello.  My strength was gone, and I felt like I used to on the last mile of a marathon: completely spent.  There was no good place to lie down on the side of the road, but I really wanted to badly.  But I knew that if I stopped, it would be doubly hard to get up and moving again. Regardless of how I felt,   I must keep moving back to the vehicle.    So I kept moving back toward the vehicle, one arduous step at a time, until I made it. Life can be like that.  Life drops a bonk on us sometimes and we get a Jello-legged spirit. We want just to lie down and quit: escape at all costs.  But God did not call us to lie down.  He told us to "run the race that is set before us."  He didn't say run the race if you feel good and are not hurting.  He didn't say drop out and escape the pain.  He called us to run our race f...