Category: Prayer

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.

Labyrinth

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“An intricate structure of interconnecting passages through which it is difficult to find one’s way; a maze.”

This past Monday evening we had the joy of going to a concert. It was held at a local college and the event was black tie. It has been years since we have gotten dressed up for such an event and it was fun to get ready.

The concert was Chanticleer a male vocal group. The concert was titled Labyrinth, and the men sang a variety of pieces from many different genres. They compared a labyrinth to life. An interesting concept that obviously got my attention.

A few observations I made throughout the evening. The sold out event meant that seats were at a premium. The couple we went with sat apart from each other and us. We sat down and almost immediately were immersed in two different conversations. Both were lively and the gentleman beside me introduced himself and his wife. This amazed me as we have gone to many events like this but we have never experienced the warmth from fellow concert goers. Dale and I remarked how unusual this was.

The people in attendance were mostly senior citizens. Dressed in finery and Southern gentility oozed around us. The politeness, the grace and the quiet respect one to another was obvious. I have seen this before, but, it always amazes me. When learning that we would be moving to South Carolina, I told Dale that I could never be genteel. Monday evening I once more marveled at my surroundings and hoped that I would not blow my cover of being a Yankee in the South.

The concert went on and finished with several curtain calls. All well deserved. Finally the group appeared back on stage for an encore. This group who had sung traditional songs, spiritual songs began to sing Queens, “Find Me Somebody to Love”. As I enjoyed the rendition, I looked around me. These genteel folks, all dressed in black tie and formals, these folks with graying hair and stern appearance, began bobbing their heads in beat to the music. I looked beside me and the gentleman who sat there began to tap his foot, his head bobbed and he quietly sang along. I really don’t know which was better, the song or the audience.

Finally, the idea of a labyrinth being like life spoke to me. Life is like that. We can be heading in one direction and come to a dead end. Sometimes we don’t know which way to turn, sometimes we back track. Life is an adventure.

We have all experienced these points in life.

“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 6:6a (NLT)

Today, as I meander through this labyrinth of life I am going to stop and look around.

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

Quiet

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Did you ever suddenly become aware of quiet? Our life for the most part is quiet, we don’t have a lot of noise where we live. This morning as I sit here I have become keenly aware that the only sound in this house is the tapping of keys on keyboards, along with Dale tapping his fingers on the table as he thinks.

The quiet is deafening.

The quiet is our life.

I’ve had to learn how to be still in moments like these. The stillness that a part of me wants to break suddenly. The child part of me that wants to scream just to scream. But, the grown up in me knows that would startle Dale and as he is preparing to teach tonight, I think better of it.

This quiet is different than being quiet before the Lord. Quiet before the Lord, in my mind is sometimes loud. As I sit quiet before God my brain is full of praise and thankfulness for all He has done and is doing.

This morning as I walked and prayed, I noticed the quiet then. That quiet was filled with birds coming alive again in the spring air. Dogs barking in the distance. Cows bellow. God’s creation was evident all around me.

When I woke up this morning, I opened our living room drapes. In our backyard were nine deer. They stopped and looked at the motion of the curtains being opened. We watched them for about ten minutes. It was fascinating. Any movement we made, made them stop and listen more intently. The neighborhood cat jumped off the deck and the deer disappeared in the woods.

Quiet comes in many forms.

11 “Go out and stand before me on the mountain,” the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 12 And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper.” I Kings 19:11-12 (NLT)

I think of this verse often when I think of quiet. Too many times I expect great fanfare and noise and to feel the earth shake and the deep booming voice of God. I think that way I will have heard from God. This has never happened to me. But, often a gentle whisper in the quietness of a day like today I will get a nudge and know my Lord is beside me.

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.

Revive Me, Oh Lord

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“For I will pour out water to quench your thirst and to irrigate your parched fields.
And I will pour out my Spirit on your descendants, and my blessing on your children.” Isaiah 44:3 (NLT)

Revival has come to us. In a college that many did not know about. Most likely a quiet campus, an ordinary campus. Then, the extraordinary happens. The Lord visits and stays. Hearts are changed. Lives are changed.

The video clips bring me to tears. I yearn to be in the middle of this. To worship purely and wholly.

I have long prayed for revival to hit this nation. I look for it. I wait expectantly. May the Holy Spirit flow through this nation, revealing the power of our Living God.

“Then, after doing all those things, I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
    Your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions.” Joel 2:28 (NLT)

“Create in me a clean heart, O God.  Renew a loyal spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10 (NLT)

Count it Joy?

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“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials,” James 1:2 (NKJV)

This scripture, always makes me go, “Really?”

At my age I have fallen into various trials, either of my own making or because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens. None of us goes through life without some type of trial. Trials can be short, or really long. Either way they are seasons of life that you wish you didn’t have to experience.

Long ago I figured out that I could go, “Woe is me” and wallow in the misery of what was going on, or I could try to understand this scripture.

I have also experienced trials where I know I need to lean on the Lord and although I try my best, I still fell into depression and discouragement. Not a great season to have.

I would like to think I have improved on this, that I have begun to find joy in all situations, but I cannot. Even in writing this last sentence there are too many “I”s”.

When we stop using I we can begin to find joy in all things. Our Heavenly Father gives us joy daily. Not the giddy happy joy like a celebration, but the joy that is a resident emotion deep withing us.

When you can look at a situation and not see the players in the trial, but see Jesus in the midst of it all. That is when we can begin to see and experience the joy in various trials.

Yes, I am learning to find joy in various trials. We all face them. I am learning because we never will escape trials. Plus, the next verse gives us good reason to count it as joy. “ For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.” James 1:3 (NLT)

A long distance runner does not start a race off looking at the 26 miles he has committed to. He sets goals in his mind as to where he needs to be next. As he passes each of his marks, his endurance is growing. When he has run past the finish line he rejoices, for he has run his race.

We also, are in this marathon of life. Our endurance will grow, and our faith will be tested, and we will find joy when we keep running.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.” Hebrew 12:1 (NLT)

He Knows Me

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“You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
16 You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out
    before a single day had passed. Psalm 139:13-16 (NLT)

Psalm 139 is one of my favorite scriptures. It speaks to my very core. It is amazing to me that our Lord took the traits of my parents and knit them together to form me. I am different from my sisters as we were each knit together by our Lord. As things are made by loving hands, they are never exactly the same, especially knitted articles. The basic layout may be identical, but the variations are different.

Last week as I rewatched episodes of The Chosen, the Lord impressed upon me something that I had never really thought of. I love it when things like that happen. The scene showed a mute/deaf man being healed by Jesus. The scene showed the actor touching the man and feeling his neck. The man was healed (Mark 7:31-35, 31 Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis. 32 There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged Jesus to place his hand on him. 33 After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. 34 He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means “Be opened!”). 35 At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly.” (NLT))

While I was familiar with this scripture, I knew what would happen. But, what came to mind is this, when Jesus walked the earth, and He put His perfect hands on individuals, He knew them. He knew how they were created. He knew how they were knit together. He knew the way the body was formed. Yes, today, physicians know the body and how it is formed, and they heal through medicine. But, our Lord, KNEW and knows each of us.

What an incredible thing to be able to go to Jesus and ask for healing. I believe He still heals today as Hebrews 8:13 tells us, “ Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. ” (NLT)

How wonderful is it when we can go to the One who knit us together and ask for healing?

A Path to Walk on

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“Can two people walk together without agreeing on the direction?” Amos 3:3 (NLLT)

While living in San Diego I had two friends that ended up being walking partners. The three of us didn’t walk together, but for a season I walked with one on a paved path around a lake. It was a big lake and we only made it around the entire lake once or twice.

My other walking partner and I lived closer together and we walked on a dirt pathway around a small lake by both of our homes.

These times together were wonderful. They were times when friendships deepened. It was a time when confidences were shared and prayed about. I cherish the memories of these times.

This morning one of my walking friends called. As usual, it was an uplifting conversation. After we hung up, she texted me a quote on friendships and thanked me for the conversation. I replied that all we needed was a path to walk on.

After I hit send, it occurred to me that friends always have a pathway to walk on, even if it is long distance. When a gift of a friend is given to you, the Lord already has a plan for the two of you. The longevity of a friendship determines the length of the path you have walked together. It also makes you look forward to the path ahead of you.

Friendships are a gift. These gifts are different, each of them. They are like sweaters hanging in a closet. One may be for cold weather and hard times, these are sturdy sweaters. Some are for warmer weather and happier times, these are light and breezy sweaters. But, we always have our old faithful sweaters that are worn through each season and provide comfort when they are put on.

I am blessed to call many, friend. Each is a gift to me. Each hold precious memories that hold a special place in my heart.

We are unique and individual. The same is true for the path we walk with friends. Some paths have gone up steep mountains that eventually lead to refreshing mountain streams. Some paths have been dark and full of thorns and thickets. These are difficult pathways that need help in navigating. Other paths lead to coffee shops or restaurants for gentle conversations and laughter. Some paths are quiet paths, where conversation is muted and still and peaceful.

I have walked many of these pathways through the years. Today’s conversation reminded me that distance does not change a friendship, it only changes the look of the path in front of you.

“A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Proverbs 17:17 (NLT)