Category: Memories

Spring

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“Look, the winter is past, and the rains are over and gone. 12 The flowers are springing up,
    the season of singing birds has come, and the cooing of turtledoves fills the air.” Song of Solomon 2:11-12 (NLT)

It’s been a few days since I was able to walk and enjoy being outside. This morning I walked to the mailbox and marveled at the bursts of pink, red, white, yellow and green.

I immediately went back in time to my fourth grade year at school. The spring of that year our class did a program on poetry. I loved it. One of the poems we recited was “in just spring’ by ee cummings. Each year I remember the verse and recite it in my mind.

This poet always intrigued me as he didn’t follow any grammar rules and he just wrote.

As I finished reciting this to myself I looked at my driveway, a bit soft from the rains the other night, and almost mud-lucious. I recalled the smell of spring growing up. The scent of mud, blackened snow,lilacs,and trees coming back to life. The air was familiar today and I thanked God for such a day as this.

Spring is a new season, it is birthed by the burst of pollen and trees, leaves, and daffodils. It is like a call from our Lord to awake and renew.

This season I look for the newness of the season and know that with each physical season of life, there is a spiritual one that accompanies it. Lord, awaken me to be renewed in You and burst forth with a freshness and vitality that matches the budding of nature around me.

Bruised

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“A bruised reed He will not break,” Matthew 12:20 a (NKJV)

I just finished listening to the livestream of our church service. I watched from home this morning and, as always, was blessed by the fresh bread given by our Pastor.

As he read this scripture this morning and spoke his message, I remembered a time in my life where I was bruised. Emotionally I was bruised, not wounded deeply, but bruised enough that I kept hitting it up against something or someone and I was emotionally sore.

Our pastor hit on things like this and although what happened to me years and years ago, it resonated and brought it back fresh to my mind.

For a while in San Diego I felt worthless, useless, less than okay. It was reemphasized through many of my companions at the time. It was often brought to my attention that my hair was not done right, my clothes were not in fashion, my make up was out of date, that my house was not clean enough. According to many this was because I wasn’t spiritual enough. I most likely wasn’t praying enough or reading my Bible enough.

Needless to say, guilt was heaped on me from all sides. Eventually many of those people exited my life and I continued on. Today’s sermon reminded me of those times, but, it also showed me that truly the bruised reed that I was was not broken. My distrust in people was restored by a loving group of women in my life who did not focus on the negative, but saw the best in me and encouraged me.

Upon leaving San Diego, the Lord put us where we are today. In a church that loves bruises. They are tender enough to gently hold you up, and tough enough to show you a reflection of your strength when the bruise is healed.

Healing comes in many ways, through doctors, through surgery, through medication, through love, faith, and prayer. I have experienced all these types of healing. But, as I reflect on my life, that time of bruising also was a gift to me. Through it all, I learned what not to be or do for others. I learned humility in being castigated. I learned to lean on to a Friend who never leaves me.

I now have experienced in the road I traveled. I once heard that you can only lead someone as far as you have been. I am awful with physical directions. If you are ever with me and I start walking one direction, do not follow, for it will be the wrong direction. But, the path I walked during that season of my life, I know it well. I will gently take a hand and lead through that and direct you to the end of that path. I know the way through and I definitely know Who is at the end of the path and Who will walk that path with anyone.

Selfishness

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“Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. 4 Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.” Philippians 2:3-4 (NLT)

We married young. I had an idea of what marriage would be, but, I confess it was based on Disney princess movies, and 50’s sitcoms like Donna Reed, Father Knows Best and like shows. What I needed back in 1974/75 was Roseann Barr.

So, the dream I had of marriage met with the reality of being a military spouse. They came crashing together abruptly two days after I said “I do”.

This caused anger in me. An undefined anger and resentment. It continued even after our salvation experience. People talk of great testimonies of being saved from addiction, vile life styles, crime and they are incredible testimonies. Not many people will testify that on the outside they looked good, and all together. Actually, I have never heard a person stand up and say, “I was an angry woman. I had resentment up to my eyeballs. I was redeemed from this.”

We don’t hear things like this because we are selfish. Everyone has a measure of selfishness in them. I am no different.

Today as I ironed Dale’s shirt the Lord walked me down memory lane. It was not a good memory trip.

“Instead, “If your enemies are hungry, feed them. If they are thirsty, give them something to drink. In doing this, you will heap  burning coals of shame on their heads.” Romans 12:20 (NLT)

This scripture came to mind shortly into my trip down memory lane this morning. I was enjoying ironing a shirt for Dale (I know, but I like to iron). I could almost hear the Lord laughing at me when I pressed the wrinkles out of the shirt. That is when my memory lane started.

I remember how much I hated to iron when we were first married. The creases that needed to be in the uniforms, the precision that needed to be there.

Sometimes being married to a Navy man who likes perfection was more than I could bear. Hence, the anger and resentment.

One day I was complaining loudly to the Lord about that man He blessed me with. And the scripture in Romans came to mind. I determined then, years and years ago, to do everything as perfect as I could, hoping to heap lots and lots of burning coals on Dale’s head.

At first I can remember growling over the things I did, seeing that he did not notice or stand up to applaud me. But, I continued to do so, praying for him to notice my diligence. I was doing things out of a selfish motive. I would do this, but, I wanted him to see me and lavish affection and gifts over me.

Years passed, I gritted my teeth many times. I whined to the Lord that I was not being appreciated. I refused to quit “heaping burning coals” on Dale’s head. After all, I was going that extra mile. I was being selfish.

Slowly I realized that as I ironed shirts and uniforms, my prayers were changing. Instead of praying for notice of my perfect creases in the shirts and pants, I was praying for my husband while he wore these uniforms and clothes.

I had found joy in the doing and without realizing it at the time, I was actually heaping burning coals upon myself. The coals finally burned through that selfishness and anger, revealing a love that was dormant for my husband.

I once heard a pastor say regarding marriage, “What ever was strong enough to draw you down the aisle, should be strong enough to keep you there.” There are a lot of arguments about that statement, but, to me, it made me realize that the young love I had when I married was indeed strong enough to keep me in the marriage.

When dreams and reality crash dynamics change. Continuing to be selfish does not help matters. After 48 years of marriage I can honestly say, I am still a bit selfish. I still want that applause and recognition from Dale. WE all crave that from our spouse, family, friends. But, the peace, and joy and satisfaction that with God’s help and strength, I can look at what I accomplish and say to our Lord, “Here is my effort. I may be more of a Roseann Barr type of Mom and wife, than a Donna Reed wife and mom, but this is from me. May it find worth in Your eyes.”

Remembering

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“I remember the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.” Psalm 143:5 (NLT)

I have been studying the Psalms. It’s a book of the Bible that is easy to turn to. There is a psalm for each mood, question, situation. In the Psalms I have found strength and encouragement. It is never redundant to me. I have actually spent years of turning to Psalms when I had no understanding of how or what to read.

When going through a long depression, Psalms were what kept my breath coming and let me continue in my days. The encouragement to know that what I was feeling and going through David wrote about.

My tears in reading the Psalms have sometimes matched the tears that fell when the words were written down.

God is like that. He is new every day. His word is life and new. He spoke through kings and prophets and donkeys. When I settle myself and quiet myself, I can hear Him. It’s not an audible voice, it’s not a windstorm that surrounds me. No, it’s this feeling deep inside me and the assurance that He is indeed speaking to me. Nothing earth shattering to the world, but, to me, it shatters my world. Breaking through dark trials, breaking through anger that I am holding on to, breaking through my doubt and fear and shining light on my days.

I choose to remember all the Lord has led me to and through. He is my strength, my comfort, my friend. He’s the same always and I know He isn’t done with me yet.

Today, I choose to remember and stand firm on Him. I know I won’t be disappointed. God is so good.

Devotional

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A few years ago we had a secret sister time in our church. We would gift little things all year long for one person, some guessed who their secret sister was before the year was up, but the fun was never broken. We continued with this for some time, but, eventually interest was lost and we no longer did this for the women’s ministry.

I was blessed to have as my secret sister the same woman twice. The second time she really threw me off and I never suspected who she was.

One of her gifts to me was a year devotional by Max Lucado. I love this devotional. It is now dog eared and worn, but each morning it is the first thing I read. Many days I smile at a corner turned down and I remember how it spoke to me in years past.

Today, I read a familiar story. I knew the story and how it would end, but I still gleaned something from it. It was still fresh to me. It was also like a family story told each gathering time. Family stories are like that, we hear them, we know them, we know when a pause is coming, when laughter is coming, when embarrassment may come. It’s family. It’s history for those sharing.

We have another ‘family’ history book. The Bible. It’s the same stories that are read, listened to, and told. Most we know. But, with this book, there is a freshness. Words that have been there since it was written pop out of a sentence and changes the meaning for us. It is fresh, vibrant, alive.

The title of today’s devotion was “Oh Daddy”. It told the story of a young girl rushing into her father’s arms for comfort. It also talked how prayer begins when we can fall to our knees and cry out, “Oh, Daddy” to our heavenly Father. And, like earthly fathers He is there to catch us. He will wrap His arms around us and bend down to assure us that we are safe in His arms.

Today has been a day where I am reminded that it’s okay to run to my Father’s arms and cry “Oh Daddy”

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children.[a] Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15 (NLT)

Memories and Tears

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“And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b (NLT)

Last night we had a dinner at our church. The woman who planned and brought to life the event did so with perfection. The theme was Walking in Love. A sort of Valentine’s dinner which also served as a Pastor’s Appreciation. The food, decorations and time together was amazing. We also had a time of worship, singing older songs of praise. It was a precious time in the Lord. The song transported me back in time.

We lived in Bangor, Maine in Air Force housing. A two story home with a basement. White birch trees lined our yard. It was a lovely home and situation. Our oldest was almost six months old when we moved in.

As with most babies, nights were interrupted by crying and fussing. I don’t know why people say to sleep like a baby as they are usually awake at least three times during the night. Ours was no different.

As winter approached, when she awoke, I would put on my heavy bathrobe and slippers. I would grab her yellow printed quilt from Japan. It was a beautiful gift of a baby futon, not the foam kind we are used to, but a fluffy blanket that would be like a comforter.

I would head down the steps in the cool night and head to my bentwood rocker. Positioning ourselves and making certain both of us were fully covered and cozy. I would draw her close to me and begin to sing. We had a string of songs, some lullabies and a lot of worship songs. I would go through the line up of songs and then sing one over and over. There were no cell phones then to hold and keep me distracted. Only the darkness, my baby and my singing.

The song would quiet her and quiet me. It would calm my frazzled young mother’s angst. My focus would shift from grumpiness of being awake, again to the quiet joyful peace of sitting in a darkened living room with my baby.The wind could be howling outside, driving snow across our yard and building up on our back door, but, I was wrapped in the peace of quiet with a snuggly baby in my arms.

I haven’t remembered those nights in years. Last night we sang the song I would sing over and over. The song started and I sang, enjoying the song itself. As we repeated the chorus my throat stopped up, tears fell down my cheeks and I was once more sitting in the dark room holding my first born.

Our Lord is precious and kind. He recalls to us the times when, unbeknownst to me, He was beside me. Standing watch along with me as His beautiful creation of a child struggled with staying asleep. The impact that, in hindsight, I vividly recalled those seemingly endless nights, thinking all these years that I was alone, and I saw that He walked the floor with me and rocked with me also.

I am so grateful to have had that experience last night, in a crowded room and the Lord gave me this sweet, joyful, memory just for me. He knows each of us personally and He meets us where we are.

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

Revive Me (part 2)

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This is what the Lord says: “Stop at the crossroads and look around. Ask for the old, godly way, and walk in it.
Travel its path, and you will find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16a (NLT)

The movie Jesus Revolution comes to theaters this week. I have been looking forward to seeing this film. As I have watched the trailers, I have been flooded with memories of how this event in the late 60’s early 70’s shaped my life.

I was 21 when we left for Japan. I was naive. I had little experience outside of growing up in northwestern Pennsylvania.

We were married when I was 19. We had no honeymoon since Dale needed to be back at work. So, therefore, on the way to Japan we had a few days in San Francisco while we waited for our flight overseas.

I had always wanted to go to San Francisco, especially in the 70’s. We had a glorious time there. We rented a car and drove to Sausalito which at the time was a hippie type community of artists and run down homes. It was a fascinating place to be, the air alive with all that Sausalito was. Artists, hippies, young people. To me, it was wonderful. We knew there were some Jesus Freaks in the midst of crowds and we tried to avoid them as well as the harikrishnas. We roamed all over the San Francisco area trying not to miss anything.

The day came for our flight. The sky was overcast and grey. That was when you dressed for flights. Military uniforms in public were frowned upon, after all, it was the early 70’s and military personnel were not held in esteem. So, Dale and I dressed for our flight. Him with his leisure suit and polyester shirt with the big collar and platform shoes and regulation haircut. Me, with my below the shoulder straight hair, long bangs and my fashionable pants suit, long bell bottoms and a poncho with colorful braiding around the edges, and birkenstocks. We were styling!

We landed in Japan, and began our life there. Families coming into the country were given a sponsor, someone to meet them at the airport and help them get settled. We were sponsors to a family coming into the country. We had exchanged letters and we knew they had been touched by the Jesus movement that had started in southern California and traveled up the west coast.

Looking back, meeting them at the airport was the beginning of my life changes. We were at the gate by customs and they walked out. A little boy who was seven, the woman with hair almost down to her hips and the sailor, clean cut, suit on, and carrying a guitar with stickers all over the case. My eyes immediately went to them. Jesus Saves, One Way, God is my pilot, all plastered on his guitar. I looked at Dale and in disdain I said, “Jesus Freaks.” They almost glowed even after the long flight. I immediately judged them.

They were not deterred by my judgement. As they have said, they loved us into the kingdom of God. They are still precious friends.

After becoming Jesus Freaks ourselves, we met a group of people from southern California. They became our Friday night fellowship, we worshiped,we prayed together, we saw and heard testimonies of God moving in our midst. We had an overflow of the Jesus movement on our Navy base. The teachings of Chuck Smith and Calvary Chapel reached us.

The other day I wrote about the revival happening on the college campus in Asbury, Ohio. A friend wrote a comment on my facebook page concerning the revival. At first I looked at the comment and wondered how I felt about it. It ran through my mind. He quoted Joel 2:28, ““And it shall come to pass afterward That I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh; Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, Your old men shall dream dreams, Your young men shall see visions.” (KNJV) He mentioned that this is not our revival, it is the young people’s.

He went on to say some things, but that is what hit me. It is the young people’s revival. When did I become the older woman who teaches the young women? When did I become the old men who dream? Inside I still feel young.

Since the 70’s we have talked about the end times. I never thought that they may come when I was old. Our young people for the most part have never experienced the worship like it’s happening now. They have never experienced the joy of corporate worship, standing with raised hands beside a total stranger and yet feeling a kinship with them. They haven’t heard testimonies in abundance of God’s salvation or healing or goodness. They have experienced their parent’s church or have never experienced church.

This week I have been both convicted and challenged and saddened. The excitement of the Jesus movement lives deep inside me. When I think of those times joy floods my being. I feel young, alive and those in my memories are young and vibrant. When I think of the Lord, in prayer, in church, I am young and alive, expecting to see what I saw so many years ago.  “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” Hebrews 13:8 (NKJV)

I turned 68 last week. When I see clips of the revival, tears flood my eyes and my being praises God for the outpouring of His presence. These students and people who have been able to be in the midst of this will never be the same for they have experienced the power of the living God. I have to remind myself that although the 22 year old girl is still a part of me, the older woman I am today longs to have the unending energy of youth.

There is a reason old men dream dreams. Our days are settled, and for the most part quiet. The Lord has not left us, He just moves differently in us. We do not have the energy of the youth. We have lived our lives and know without doubt that our God never leaves us, that He has provided for our every need. He has walked with us through illness, through financial difficulties, through struggles with spouses and children. He is our comfort and friend.

The youth is discovering this. Some, for the first time. Yes, Lord, revive me. Your outpouring on the youth is happening, but, I know that You are not a respecter of persons and You can pour out revival even to this older generation.

Joy in Listening

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“As cold water to a weary soul, So is good news from a far country.” Proverbs 25:25 (NKJV)

There is a friend of mine who lives on the other side of our country. We have been friends for years. I worked with her and her husband for many years, which deepened our friendship.

We have walked with each other through many difficult and dark times. We have laughed much together. We have wept with one another. We have screamed on roller coasters together. We have lived life together. She is family to me.

Next week Dale is teaching at our Wednesday night service. He has chosen his topic and wanted to be refreshed in some teachings from this friend of ours.

This morning they talked with each other. The phone was on speaker so he could take some notes and have his hands free to make references where needed. I sat in the living room listening to their conversation.

At first I was online scrolling through notifications. A normal part of my day. Soon, my attention went elsewhere. The voice on the other end of the line was drawing me in. The voice I know so well. As she spoke I was transported in memory back to a place where she taught and I listened.

The rhythm of her voice, the enthusiasm of the topic she was talking about. The excited exchange between Dale and her. How often did they do this and her husband and I just sat, drinking tea or coffee and smiled at each other, knowing they were sharing their hearts. The two of them both called to the same type of ministry.

Today, as I listened I was filled with joy and thankfulness. From this woman the Lord has taught me much. The gift she is from our Lord is a blessing too great to describe. The spontaneous joy we find when we are together.

Today my heart was filled to overflowing with the sound of a voice.

Thankful

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“Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.” Philippians 1:3 (NLT)

Yesterday was my birthday. I had a lovely day with Dale. I talked with my daughters via text and phone. I felt an overflowing love from family and friends.

I was overwhelmed, actually.

Today the celebration continued with a dinner with friends. More gifts were given and one of my favorite cakes was there from a bakery that I love. It was a beautiful day.

I was overwhelmed, actually.

I love to celebrate and acknowledge birthdays. I get excited when it is someone’s birthday, it is a chance to show appreciation and love. Except when it’s mine.I like to just sneak by my birthday. I do not like a fuss made over me. I’m just me.

My birthday overwhelms me, actually.

Throughout the year we go about our lives. We see friends and family, we hug, we laugh, we confide and cry, we make memories together. It’s life.

At times through the year I feel lonely, or unseen. I think we all get to those points. After each of my friends has a birthday, there is usually a post on facebook that thanks people for the expressions of love. Gratitude exudes from those posts and they truly are heartfelt. When I read them from friends, I think, “well of course people love you, you are you.”

Each year I am surprised at the love I receive on my birthday. Gratitude is what I am feeling today. Thankfulness for the people who have expressed loving wishes for me. I am overwhelmed.

God has given me the gift of a longer life. He has gifted me with my husband and family, He has blessed me with my sisters. He has placed me in a loving church family. He has gifted me. Today I am spoiled.

I am overwhelmed, actually.

Thank you for loving me and blessing me.

A Smile Today

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“Good news from far away is like cold water to the thirsty.” Proverbs 25:25 (NLT)

Today I received a couple of cards from a friend. One was to make me laugh and one was to talk about our friendship. This friend has been a lifelong friend. We bonded over a science project on snails in the fourth grade.

Her family became like my family and her Mother was like a bonus mother to me.

The card about friendship blessed me, as I feel the same about her.

The card to make me laugh showed a picture of a wheat tare on the front. It said, “When did our wild oats” and inside it said, “Become shredded wheat?” This struck me as hilarious and as I walked to the house from the mailbox I laughed loudly.

I think what really brought the point of the card home was the fact that as I came back to the house, I was making oatmeal for Dale and I.

Those wild oats are not only shredded wheat, they also have become daily oatmeal. Time passes so quickly. The years seem to become the flashes of cities and towns while looking out the window of a speeding train. It can become dizzying, but, oh! the fun of traveling quickly.

Today my heart feels joy. Joy for the journey, joy for this life. May you also have joy for your day today.