Category: Prayer

A Challenge, A Memory and a Prayer

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Yesterday at church we sang an old chorus I had almost forgotten about. Before we started the song our Pastor spoke a few words. He reminded us that this chorus was actually a prayer, and if we were bold enough to pray this prayer mighty things would happen. Of course this was my translation of what he said as I cannot remember his exact words.

The song began, “Make me like You Lord, please make me like You.” The initial words made me smile. Ah, yes, I remember this one.

Immediately I was, in my mind, transported back to 1977, sitting on the floor of the Navy hospital chapel in Yokosuka, Japan. “You are a servant, make me one too.” A new Christian. Everything fresh, exciting, different for me.

There was a desire in my heart to be the best I could be for Christ. But, I didn’t know where to actually start. This chorus was reigniting more than just the memory. I was remembering what I believed at the time of how to be a servant. At that time, a servant was someone employed in a household. Servants worked. I could wash dishes and cook and clean. So, I began to cook for anyone who would appear on our doorsteps. I did lots of dishes. Made lots of food, and desserts. I tried to be a ‘servant’.

“Oh, Lord, I am willing, do what You must do.” But, am I as willing as I was in my early twenties? Is my heart as tender and open as it was then? It’s a short chorus, but, so much was happening inside me. That’s the glory of what God can do in us.

“To make me like You, Lord, please make me like You.” Yes, age has worn me down. I don’t have as much joy in cooking or cleaning anymore. And, I inwardly grumble when the sink calls my name and I stand washing and rinsing, but I do it still. My energy levels are not high like they were in my twenties. I cannot spend all day and half the night in fellowship and still move easily the next day. But, inside myself, that prayer is still vibrant and earnest, Lord, please make me like You.

“For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. ” Galatians 5:13 (ESV)

Our God Who likes to smell

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“With praises like perfume, I lavish mine on You” Phillips, Craig and Dean lyrics

This past Sunday we sang this song during our worship time. I like this song anyhow, but, this verse stood out to me in a way it never has before. The praise we give to God is like perfume to Him. Even my out of tune, flat, squeaky noise that I make when I sing is like perfume to Him.

It was then after thinking this (while singing the rest of the song) that I began to see images in my mind, quickly flashing like a high speed slide show, lily of the valley, roses, tulips, crocus, the woods, the dirt, onions frying in a pan, bacon cooking (well yes, lunch time was approaching). Everything with a scent ran through this slide show. Each one has a scent. Each scent is different. Each scent was created by God.

He shares with us scents. Each praise of Him, from hands lifted high to thankfulness that you were able to wake up this morning is praise, is a sweet aroma to our Lord. We were created to praise Him. We are vessels of praise for Him. In return, He gives us a newborn’s scent, the scent of freshly fallen snow, the scent that comes from the foam of the ocean.

How blessed we are! Our God gave us something He enjoys, the gift of smell.

“ For we are the sweet fragrance of Christ [which ascends] to God, [discernible both] among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing;” 2 Corinthians 2:15 (AMP)

Little Man and Little Miss

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“May you live to enjoy your grandchildren.” Psalm 128:6a (NLT)

I remember when I was in my late twenties. I prayed that I would see my children grown, married and have children. This was my selfish prayer, one I wanted more than anything. I often wondered what my own Mother would have thought and done with my girls. Those are the kinds of things you think of when you have lost your parent at an early age.

When my first grandson was due I began to write about waiting for Little Man. After he was born, I wrote about Little Man lessons. Then I did the same when Little Miss arrived a couple of years later.

Last week Little Man started high school Not so little anymore. Today, Little Miss started middle school. Again, not so little. Both are tall and beautiful (handsome).

Time goes by much too fast. My young man plays the piano beautifully. Self taught. Brilliant mind. A sense of humor that can cause tears to run down my cheeks. A kind young man. A worship-er. Someone who can rough house his grandfather one minute and snuggle up to him the next.

Little Miss? My princess. She is everything a young woman needs to be and more. Super soccer player. Kind hearted to everyone and all little creatures. She is tender and caring. Artistic, creative and always willing to help. Someone who stands her ground, yet will defend friends and family.

Yes, I know I am partial. That’s what Grammy’s are, biased, partial, seeing the best.

What have I learned? Too many things. I see reflections of my children. I see their fathers, my son in laws. I see them figuring out things in their lives, and yet being available to give me the attention that grandmother’s need. They are the future and I am confident they will lead and teach and be strong . My prayers have been they serve the Lord with joy and courage and strength. So far my prayer is being answered.

Truth inside a Cathedral

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“Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” John 14:6 (NKJV)

In the beginning of October we went to Ireland for two weeks. It was truly a gift and a blessing to make this trip to a place I have always wanted to visit.

As we landed in Cork, I cried as we approached the ground. The water, the green, the land of my family’s ancestors. Since childhood, this nation has drawn me to it, sparking curiosity, and sometimes just a longing to be there.

One of the first days there we walked about the city center of Cork, honestly, I can’t remember if it was at the end of a walking tour, or if we were just exploring, but we stopped in to St Peter and Paul Catholic Church.

As I have said many times previously, I was raised Catholic and left the church in 1977. Since that time I have tried to live my life for my Lord and Savior. I have not been perfect, by any means. I have gone to mass with my sisters on occasion and remember fondly my growing up in the church. I respect the traditions the church holds close.

Anyhow, we entered the church. It reminded me of the church I was raised in. The faint smell of incense greeted me at the door. A welcoming smell, one that felt comfortable. I walked into the building, looking at the rose stained glass window, the stations of the cross, the elaborate confessionals. People were pausing to pray inside. A reverent quietness permeated everything.

I often struggle with my faith. Is it enough? Am I strong in my beliefs? Am I pleasing God? I am sure at some points, people of faith wrestle with these thoughts.

I finally sat down. In the back. I looked at the kneeler. I smiled as I remembered that as a child I would look on the floor of our church and have pretend conversations with non existent ants to pass the time of kneeling a long time. I remembered being walked into mass on Fridays by the Benedictine nuns who taught us. Their strictness that we stay in line, not dawdling, kneeling straight . Memories flooded in, more than I imagined.

And then, as I sat there, I was enveloped in a peaceful presence. A still voice deep inside assured me that all my life my heart has been His. I may not have said the prayer at the time, but my heart yearned for closeness to my God. I am His. He knows my name. An unexpected peace in a cathedral.

Withdrawing

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“So He Himself often withdrew into the wilderness and prayed.” Luke 5:16 (NKJV)

Growing up, there was a neighbor’s formal garden that had a fence surrounding it.   The fence had a hole in it that joined our yard with what we referred to as our “Secret Garden”  or the field.

Inside this glorious place were many varieties of trees, weeping willow, apple, crab apples, maples.  It was a very special place to have growing up.

The field was where my sisters and I could be girls, singing, and dreaming.   It was also a combat field when the boys in the neighborhood joined in.   Crab apples became hand grenades, weeping willow branches became whips.  We would run and shout and climb trees.  Again, it remains a magical place in my memories.

Often I would go there, climb a tree and imagine what my life would be like.  Could I be a famous singer?  Later I realized you have to be able to carry a note to do this.  A dancer?  You have to be coordinated to do that, not long legged and clumsy.   An actor?  Again, talent is needed to attain that.  All dreams that girls can dream.

The garden was my place to withdraw, to contemplate, and yes, even pray childish prayers.   I could tend to live inside myself easily.

I still can live inside myself.  Quiet is a great companion for me.  Being alone is fine also.  I am easily overwhelmed with people around.

Lately I have been reminded that my blog has not produced anything in a while.  Somehow the words don’t appear on their own and I haven’t contributed.

A few minutes ago, I got online and read some of my recent posts.  The words jarred me into thinking elsewhere.  Lately, I have withdrawn.  I have sat in quietness and stillness.

That is all well and good, but, the downside is that when it is quiet within me, a record with deep grooves begins to play on repeat.   The music and harmony are quiet enough, but the lyrics are not the best.  The lyrics to this record is the same as it has been the bulk of my life.

The lyrics berate me with what is my worth, what do others think of me, am I doing enough for the Lord?   This record never skips, it never stops.

Introspection can be good for a while.  Living in introspection is not ideal.  Shaking myself from this reverie I have had was necessary today.  I have many exciting things waiting for me in the next few months.  Things I need to be fully alert for.

We’re visiting with friends we were stationed with in Maine this weekend.  We are planning on visiting our girls this month,  I am looking forward to a San Diego friend to be with me also.   September will be our Ladies Retreat (and yes, planning that has raised a lot of the above questions).  Then in October we are going to visit Ireland.  A place where I have longed to visit.

I know I am not the only person to withdraw into herself.  I know the questions I have asked myself are not singular to myself.  But, there are times where I wish I could return to the “Secret Garden”, climb a tree and sit the afternoon away while dreaming. 

The Finish Line

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“Therefore, since we also have such a great cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let’s rid ourselves of every obstacle and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let’s run with endurance the race that is set before us,” Hebrews 12:1 (NASB)

I ran track in high school. I was okay, nothing spectacular. I love a challenge, so when I first walked on the track I looked around the field to see what I’d like to do. I knew I could run and I enjoy running. I looked at the shot put and knew that wasn’t for me, nor was the high jump. The pole vault looked interesting, but I knew my limits, or so I thought.

I chose hurdles. I liked the discipline of hurdles. The numbering of the steps and the correct way to get over the hurdles. I had found my place.

I missed a couple of days of school which meant I missed track practice. I went to school, and after the day, I dressed for practice. I was confident. I knew what I was doing. I warmed up. I stretched. l took my place in my lane to practice. I ran, cleared the first hurdle. I continued taking a half step extra. I took out two hurdles. I got up from the ground, knees skinned, elbows stinging. I set the hurdles back up. I started to try again, only to fail. It was the last time I attempted the hurdles.

I moved on to another spot, the 220 and the 440. I knew I couldn’t mess that up. It was easy. On flat ground. Straight course. Go to the starting block, get set up properly, place hands behind the starting line. Look up at the finish line. The course in front of me.

Today, I thought of this. In my mind, while praying, I saw the track in front of me. I asked our Lord to refocus me. I know the finish line is being with the Lord. I know the finish line is closer than it was 20 years ago, but the goal is the same. Finish the race set before me.

We each have a course set before us. We may not be at the starting block, some of us may be closer to the finish line, some may be halfway there, but we need to look forward, keeping our eyes on the prize.

Today I asked our Lord to keep me focused on the race set before me. I don’t want to veer off path. I want to finish this race with strength. I want to accomplish all the Lord has for me. I want to finish this race and fall into the arms of my Lord, hearing Him laughing and cheering me on and telling me how good a race I ran.

“Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14 (ESV)

(Postscript: After the hurdle incident, and moving to the 220 and 440, our coach asked me to be a student manager, which I did. I did run a few races, but I actually lettered in managing!)

Rookie Mistake

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“A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9 (NKJV)

If you notice, the scripture from this post is the same as my last post. I am learning this scripture. Not trying to memorize it, although that would be easy enough, but learn it. God directing my steps.

Yesterday Dale left for a men’s retreat. I have told him that this was my time to play. You know the adage, ‘while the cat’s away, the mice will play.’ He would just look at me and smile. He knows me better. My idea of ‘playing’ is staying up past 9:30!

So, I dropped him off at the church and ran an errand that I had. In the past, I’d stop at the store and load up on snacks that I love to indulge in. Yesterday’s stop at the store was not the usual. Nothing looked good. I bought a couple of things and headed home.

This is where the scripture comes in. On the way home from the store, I ran through a list of things I was going to accomplish. It was going to be a great evening and I had it all planned.

I unload the car, which didn’t take long. I locked the car, of course. I came into the house and dropped my bags and proceeded to get the trash ready to take to the curb, or the head of the driveway as we have no curbs.

I was sailing along, cleaned out the fridge, loaded up the trash bag, grabbed my phone shoving it into my jeans’ pocket.

(Now at this point, I should describe the door we use all the time. It’s right by the driveway and it’s our go to door. The door knob will sometimes lock, but most of the time, it’s on vacation. We rely on our deadbolt which works great.)

I head out the door, throw the trash into the bin and pull it up the driveway. I check the mail, a piece of junk mail and a beautiful card from some friends in Colorado. I stroll back down the driveway, go up the steps and guess what was back from vacation? The door knob lock.

When I am at home alone, I usually carry my keys with me. It is something I have done since our Navy days. You have to be prepared. Guess who was not prepared yesterday? I looked at the door, I laughed. I actually could hear the Lord laughing. God directs my steps…. yep.

So, I look where we have hidden a key. No, not there. I walk around the house. I try using the junk mail envelope to do what you see people do in the movies. I realize it’s a bit chilly. Because, I just ran out of the house, with my long sleeve tee shirt and jeans on.

After praying, I decide I need to bite the bullet and call Dale. The thing I did not want to do. After all, he was in a van with his friends and I was going to be THAT wife. Graciously, he tells me where to look for the other key. I follow his directions, the key wasn’t put back the last time.

He calls locksmiths for me. He’s like that. Gracious. One calls back. It will be a couple of hours before someone can get there. I knew I made a rookie mistake. I knew the Lord was there with me, although laughing at my rookie mistake. He has gotten me through things like this before.

It’s around 4 p.m.. Our trees block the sun and at this point and my cheeks are getting rosy. I go next door. I ask to come in and it felt wonderful in there. I ask for a paper towel, because, well, it’s chilly and my nose is running.

I explain my situation. Their son and his girlfriend are sweet about not laughing in my face.

Fortunately their son was quick on his toes and handed me a spatula. This spatula. I love that spatula. I told them to never get rid of it.

So, armed with the spatula, I walk through the woods, and pray. It worked. It was the Lord. It was a miracle. But, a part of me smiled and said, “Welcome back Navy wife.”

I smiled to myself and thanked the Lord. Then it occurred to me to pray again. I had just opened my locked door with a spatula! A spatula! Thank You Lord for deadbolts and most of all, your protection.

December 7th

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“A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9 (NKJV)

I finished my quiet time just a few minutes ago. As I opened my little devotional I saw the date, December 7th. Pearl Harbor Day. A day of remembrance.

My mind quickly went back to stories I partially listened to when my Dad and uncles would mention the war. Japan did not rate high in their conversations. As a child, a fear of that country filled my mind.

As I thought of the significance of this day, I found myself praying. I thanked the Lord for the sacrifice of so many young men on both sides.

My mind next went to Japan. A beloved country of mine. A place I called home for three years. A place that still calls out to me to return.

As a young girl my dream was to grow up, marry, and move to the south side of town. Or if adventurous, move to the Pittsburgh area, but no farther.

When it was time, as a young married couple, to pick our next duty station, Dale came home with three choices available to him. Rota, Spain, Reykjavik, Iceland, or Yokosuka, Japan. At that time, the south side of Oil City still looked like the most appealing to me.

I remember thinking the choices over. Spain was okay. Iceland just sounded cold, but it was then that I learned that Iceland was green and Greenland was cold. Japan brought a chill down my back. Dale went back to work with no decision made by me. He returned home to announce that the detailer came back with Yokosuka, Japan.

Man makes his plans, God directs his steps.

I ended my short prayer today like this, “Lord, thank You for sending me to Japan. A former enemy’s place. It was there that I truly met You for the first time. I knew of You before, but there, I met You truly face to face. ”

My mind, since the Amen, has been one of gratitude that I stepped into a foreign country feeling alone and afraid and three years later, I left with a piece of my heart staying there. The rest of my heart full of the goodness and salvation of my Lord.

Learning

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I try to be an upbeat person. I can get down at times, but through our Lord, those times have become more infrequent. I try to forgive easily and move on quickly.

During the storm there were a couple incidents that hit deeply for me. I have struggled with hurt and discouragement since then. To be honest, I am still struggling.

Writing has always been the area where I can release emotions and thoughts. For years I journaled, releasing things that at the time were major events. I had thought of writing in a journal now, but, as I thought of the recent events I know there are many here who are dealing with similar thoughts, feelings, emotions.

Our area has not been in the news, which is understandable with the massive destruction of our neighbors to the north. What people don’t realize is that in order for the storm to hit there, it had to go through our area. But, our city has rallied and is coming back to life. I talked to a stranger in the grocery store yesterday and she commented the same as I have just written.

I went back again to the squirrel on our gazebo. He was battling the storm alone. Our area has had tremendous linemen from all over the country and as far as Nova Scotia. These men have been warriors in the face of what we had. They have worked tirelessly. They have given our area power. And, as I looked at a group of trucks last night, I realized that these men will either move to North Carolina or head south to Florida. Quietly they came in to our area, no fanfare, just the desire to help us.

They will begin to leave and again, without fanfare the trucks will be gone.

With power restored, water restored, internet being restored, life will resume to what it was. Many places are like they were before. Signs may be missing, grocery shelves may be empty, but life is continuing.

For many of us the work still looms heavy. This is when many will look around and sigh deeply. For those with family around them, the work will be shared. The burden will be easier. My heart is heavy knowing that there are so many who will deal with the remains of the storm alone. My prayer is that someone will come along beside them. Although I have seen that people have their own agendas and will take opportunities to comment and insert their thoughts into any open ear there are still loving people out there that, without care for themselves they will step up.

“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit. 19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous, But the Lord delivers him out of them all.” Psalm 34:18-19(NKJV)

That Time I Prayed for a Squirrel

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“Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10 (NKJV)

Eleven days ago we experienced Hurricane Helene. Although our damage didn’t come close to what our neighbors in North Carolina endured, our area was still hit hard.

As I always do whenever there is a major event in my life, I ask the Lord what I was supposed to learn from this time. Each time I ask this, I am reminded of the time I prayed for a squirrel.

Early Friday morning, September 27th, we were awakened by the alarm that meant our internet had gone out. Seconds later we realized our power was out also.

We got up and opened our curtains to see a life size version of what you watch on the weather channel. The winds, the rain, the trees blowing in all directions. There were only two things missing that I thought of, first Jim Cantore from the weather channel and secondly I thought of the movie, Wizard of Oz. I did not see the old woman riding her bicycle in the wind with Toto in her basket.

Dale and I were fascinated by the magnificent display of power outside our windows, as we moved from window to window watching what we could in the little light of day.

At one point, I looked out our guest room window to see a squirrel climbing to the cupola on top of our gazebo. The poor little guy was holding on for dear life. His little head lifted and his bushy tail struggling to keep his balance. I could see where he was heading and I prayed for this little guy. Something else caught my attention for a second and when I looked again the squirrel’s head was down as was his tail. I knew he was exhausted. Again I prayed. Seconds later I looked again and he was gone. I don’t know if he blew to the next county or if he was safe. My heart broke at that point.

Now, I think the occasional squirrel is cute. Our yard is a playground for squirrels, and so my affection for them has diminished over the years. But this guy made a big impression on my heart.

As we have begun to get trees off of where they didn’t belong(our house), and pick up and rake the debris, I have pondered how I behaved and fared over the past weeks.

I am a middle child and I have a very strong tendency to please people. I confess, I am a people pleaser. I have continued to do this since the 27th of September. When I have stopped and thought about the events, the Lord always brings to mind that squirrel.

He was alone. He was determined to do what he needed to do. He fought until he couldn’t anymore. He was an isolated animal in the midst of a hurricane.

After the storm everyone was isolated. No power, no lights, no modern conveniences. I found myself trying to make everyone happy. Trying to people please. Saturday after 9 days of no power we had our electric restored. I was sitting on my couch taking a breather from raking. The bright ceiling lights in our living room came on with the fans running. Stunned, I stared at them for a few seconds before realizing we had power. I went to tell Dale that we had power. He smiled and the man who was operating the machinery that was working on removing trees against our house was almost as happy as I was. He had had his power restored the previous day so he understood.

Now, back to the squirrel. He got caught in the storm without his home, (unless of course his house was in one of the downed trees). He probably had his family squeaking at him to stay put. Maybe he was looking for safety for his family. Maybe this squirrel was a squirrel pleaser. But, he was fighting the storm alone.

Often times we each fight storms alone. We do it for a number of reasons. It needs to be done! I can do this myself! or even, I need to do this because no one else is supporting me. The feeling of isolation and being unsupported can happen quickly. When I feel like I am not doing enough or pleasing those closest to me I begin to feel alone and unloved.

I have often seen those memes that say, “Be kind to others for you don’t know what they are dealing with.” I try very hard to be aware of what others may be going through, sometimes though my focus is on them and not on me.

Helene brought out a lot of feelings, emotions, fears, worry, insecurities, lack of faith in all of us that have been touched by her not so gentle touch to our town. As it is going to take weeks and months to move beyond this time, lessons learned will begin to be made known to us.

I know I will remember that time I prayed for a squirrel and continue to ask God what that lesson was for me. Remember those who were affected and lost everything in your prayers.