Tag: joy

Old Photos

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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— Psalm 139:13-14 (NLT)

Tomorrow I am starting to teach a Bible Study on God Knows… I am going to reference this scripture. First of all, anytime I teach, my mind goes to the future and I see myself in front of the Lord. We are seeing my life and He stops the reel when I am teaching. The scenario in my mind is, He stops the reel, looks at me and asks, “What were you thinking?” This is said incredulously .

I usually pray a lot during those times!

In preparation for tomorrow, I was looking through old pictures. I mean the old black and white with the curly edges on the photos.

I smiled at many of them and just stared at others. The ones I stared at were of myself. There are two options about my pictures of growing up.

1. I was a dorky kid.

2. My parents had a warped sense of humor in taking pictures.

Personally, I think it is a combination of both. My poses were either with my head tilted to such a degree that it looked like a random head resting on a shoulder. And, yes, I still tilt my head like that, although with age, it’s just a head tilt.

My other poses are just as random. Legs and feet firmly planted on the ground almost looking like a gorilla standing upright, making faces , eyes crossed and tongue out. Some, though, are attempts at being a girl with minor manners. How I ever got a date in high school is beyond me! Must have been the Lord.

I can be very critical of myself as I think most of us are. In the end, though, we need to remember that we were carefully and lovingly created by a God who loves us. He created us, dorkiness and all.

Looking through the photos today brought back memories, good and bad. I could smell the air in the background. I can remember the fun. Time continues on and snapshots of our life will come to us at different times. We will remember parents, uncles, aunts, siblings, cousins. Echoes of the past linger deep within us. Memories are a scrapbook of our lives.

And Now…For Today’s Story

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“Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!” Philippians 4:4 (NKJV)

Sunday I turned 69. I have received wonderful wishes and love expressed and it has been wonderful. I am always surprised that people take the time to wish me well.

69 is an age I never thought I would reach. I have outlived both of my parents. I figured I would pass in my 40’s or 50’s, so to reach this landmark, I am surprised. I am also overwhelmed as I’m old!

This morning I went to our Bible Study. I left early for an appointment. I have been overdue for my mammogram and I needed a bone density test. I find it ironic that I would put off a mammogram considering my oldest is in the process of recovering from breast cancer. But, put it off I did. 

As I left Bible Study the women all expressed prayers for a good appointment with good results. They are a lovely group of women. I thanked them and planned the route to the place where I made the appointment. I arrived at 11:02 for an 11:20 appointment. I had a difficult time parking in a spot, which is pretty normal for me. 

I walked into the building and a young woman came to the counter and I said, “I’m here for my appointment.” She looked at me strangely. She asked my name. She looked at her computer and I could see that something was wrong.  I said, almost in a plea, “Please don’t tell me that I am at the wrong place.” I made the appointment for there because I knew how to get there. (If you don’t know me, I can get lost very, very easily)

She pursed her lips and then smiled. She asked my birthdate, and then wished me a happy belated birthday. I thanked her. She was very nice. 

She looked up at me, confirmed my information and said, “I won’t tell you that you are in the wrong place.” (Whew! That’s a relief). She continued, “You are in the right place, and you are here on time. But (dont’ you dislike when you hear that word?), you are in the wrong month.”

At this point, I stared at her. The two women behind me were laughing by this time having been privy to the conversation. 

The punchline? My appointment is for March 13th. 

The cute woman behind the counter continued, “I know you are just anxious and excited to have this appointment. You couldn’t wait to get here, right?”

The women behind me were doubling over, I swear! They were just having too good of a time.

I mumbled something about after having my last birthday I was anxious because I know the factory warranty on me is starting to come to an end.” 

The women behind me were silently slapping their knees. 

I used the restroom and as i walked out the door I made eye contact with the women. They burst out laughing. I told them to have a good appointment and left. 

It took me longer to park than it did in the building. Oh! The joys of getting old!

Winter Sunset

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“The light shines in the darkness,  and the darkness can never extinguish it.” (John 1:5, NLT)

There is a time each winter day when the sun sets over our woods. The woods close up to the house have started to look gloomy and dark for the night hours. 

The sun, however shows it’s glory in a bright burst before saying good night. It lights up the trees in the distance with a glow that takes my breath away each time I see it. 

Towards the end of the day, when tiredness is creeping in and my sighs become more frequent I look at the woods and feel a darkness come on me. It’s not ominous, it is just the end of the day. The feeling that my pajamas are calling out to me and the idea of toast and tea for dinner somehow seems like the perfect end of the day. 

Then my eyes go upward and I see the brilliant light of the sun reflected in the distance. The light that reminds me that behind each dark cloud there is a brilliant hope for tomorrow. The hope that we find in Christ. The hope that all of my darkness and weariness and sighs can be resolved sitting at the feet of my Lord, where the light can never be extinguished. 

Now, I am ready to fix dinner.

It’s been a year

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“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)

This morning I was reminded of this past year. It’s been a year, let’s leave it at that. A year of cancer diagnosis, surgeries, radiation, a broken toe (yes, that hurt more than my surgeries), possible diagnosis that don’t sound wonderful, a bout of bronchitis. 

I could choose to dwell on these things. It would be easy to do that. To think on the negative. To relive each thing. But, I will not do that. I serve a God who was in every day this past year. He is in today. He is already in tomorrow. 

In between all that happened in 2023, there was laughter. Hanging out with our grandson and his family was a highlight for Dale and I. That laughter, the smiles, the hugs, the playing all healed many areas that ached. Spending time with friends, traveling to new places, taking time for just the two of us, these all were bright spots for us. 

Each year holds a balance. The balance may tip one way or another any given year. Each year we approach a new year not knowing what that year will hold. The older I get the realization of uncertainty becomes greater. That uncertainty used to make me almost panicky. I now have an assurance that I will have experienced most of what the new year holds in some way or another.

Above all, I can say with a heart full of gratitude and peace, Merry Christmas! May your holiday be wonderful, filled with surprise and laughter and playfulness. May your heartaches be healed and joy be overflowing deep within you.

God is a great God, and He has 2024 in the palm of His hands. Nothing is going to escape His attention and care. 

Again, Merry Christmas.

One More Time

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 “pray without ceasing” I Thessalonians 5:17 (NKJV)

Before going to bed last night I read a meme a friend posted. Of course, now I don’t remember who posted it, so I will not be giving full credit where it is due.

The meme talked about praying just one more time. It gave a list of things to pray for just one more time. Health, salvation, finances, new jobs, family, children, relationships, friendships, grief, all the things one tends to pray for.

The past couple of nights I have not been able to sleep. As I lie in bed my mind wanders in all directions. I tend to pray for all of the above things in between making my grocery list and wondering where that piece of paper I need is.

A few minutes ago, before getting up to write this, I remembered another part of that meme I mentioned above. The part that said, pray just one more time, like your life depended upon it.

While we may not think our life depends on praying for finances or new jobs, or any of the other things listed, in reality, it does. Our lives are intertwined with our family, our friends our church. Each person truly is a part of me/you.

We each have had those times where you just want to be prayed for in a mighty way. We want to hear the words spoken over us that will give us encouragement, hope and bolster our faith. Someone’s need for restitution in relationships, or someone’s financial needs my not be a matter of life and death to us, but for those who are walking through those times, it feels like life or death.

The enemy of our souls will distract us with grocery lists, or schedules, or meal planning, but we are told to pray without ceasing. I have been challenged by what I read last night.

I may not do this right, but I am determined to make the effort to pray like my life depends on it. I am also going to pray one more time. Galatians 6:9 says, “So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” (NLT)

There are somethings that I have prayed for years and yes, I have gotten discouraged at not seeing answers the way I want them to be. But, if we pray just one more time, it may be the right time where we will see the answer.

Psalm 121

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
From whence comes my help?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.

3 He will not allow your foot to be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
4 Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
6 The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
He shall preserve your soul.
8 The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, and even forevermore. (NKJV)

I Don’t Understand

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“Then a dispute arose among them as to which of them would be greatest. 47 And Jesus, perceiving the thought of their heart, took a little child and set him by Him, 48 and said to them, “Whoever receives this little child in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me receives Him who sent Me. For he who is least among you all will be great.” Luke 9: 46-48 (NKJV)

I became a born-again Christian in 1977. 46 years ago. Almost a half century ago.

When I was first saved, I devoured the Bible, read it and tried to absorb all I could. Having never read the Bible before I basically underlined the entire Bible. I didn’t understand most of it, but I was still excited. I thought as I grew as a Christian, I would totally understand each word and be able to dissect it with precision.

We go to a church that preaches the Word of God with truth and power. We are blessed to be in this church. We recently began a study on Heaven. Our pastor is gleaning from the book by Randy Alcorn, “Heaven“. The study has challenged thoughts I have carried about Heaven and has excited me at the same time. It’s excellent.

The Ladies of our church have been having a Bible Study at the same time on the 7 churches in Revelation. Our teacher is someone who studies and can present deep topics with grace and ability. I sit amazed and try to absorb all I can while she teaches.

Late this past summer, I talked to the Lord and asked Him to help me grow closer to Him and to learn more from Him. I felt inadequate in my walk with the Lord. I want more. I desire to walk so close to Him that with each breath I am being led and hearing all I can from Him. I guess this Mary (me) is desiring to be Mary who sat at the feet of Jesus.

In this time, I have begun to think that I am like a child in faith still. A child will ask it’s parent, “what does that mean?” Most of the times, after getting an answer they will walk or run back to what they are doing. They may understand or they may not. I have seen looks on my grandchildren’s faces after asking a question. Sometimes it’s satisfaction and sometimes, it’s filled with more questions.

Lately, I am the latter. I have derided myself. Why am I not understanding? Why am I questioning?

Matthew 18:3, ” And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (NIV)

I have read this scripture many times. I have heard sermons and teachings on child-like faith. I have always in my mind wondered about this verse. Like Nicodemus, I ponder. Yes, I am born again, I get that part, but how do I return to be a child, to have faith like theirs?

This morning, as I read the Bible (and yes, basically underlining each sentence) it occurred to me that my prayers to have that child like ability have been answered. I am reading, listening, and questioning. I pray that I keep running, like a little child to question what I have just heard and run to my Heavenly Father and ask what it means. After almost 50 years, I have begun to be a child.

Those We Grow Up With

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“I could never love anyone as I love my sisters.” —Little Women film adaptation (1994)

I am a middle child of three. My sisters and I raised one another. It was our life and it was our normal. We have wonderful memories of the years we grew up together.

Yes we fought as sisters do. We laughed and were silly at times. We had inside jokes that we can still recall. We would sneak each other’s clothes, make-up and sometimes shoes.

My younger sister and I would play with the ‘grown up ‘ things of our older sister, her long gloves, her eye shadows. We looked at her prom dresses.

I married in 1975 and moved away. I missed decades with my sisters. Life with them was long distanced. I couldn’t do much at all. Snail mail was our only connection, except on weekends when rates were cheaper for long distance calls.

Email, text messages, cell phones have changed that. It’s wonderful. We all live apart from one another. Different states in different parts of the country is not how we dreamed it would be. We thought we would marry and live on the southside of our town, within walking distance. I often wonder how that would have been.

There are conversations we have where you feel a part of what they are doing. When my younger sister is walking her dog, I have done that with her, both physically and while we are talking on the phone. Those times as she says she is in the car heading home, I almost want to say, well, what should we do for dinner? It seems so natural to continue.

Last night I had such a conversation. The kind where you go beyond relaying news and weather. The kind of conversation where you want to keep talking into the still hours of the night. Talking about everything under the sun and nothing at all.

As I climbed into bed last night I thanked God for the blessing of my sisters. I know they are always there and would do anything for each of us at the drop of a pin. But there are times when although the knowledge is there, a hunger for a hug and a squeeze is what is needed.

Psalm 139:13 says,”For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb.” (NKJV) This is one of my favorite scriptures. It reminds me that our Lord knows me intimately. As He formed me in my mother’s womb, He formed my sisters. He knows them intimately and He created us and put us together as family. His plan for us as sisters is still going on. Time, distance, life separates us, but the bond of being sisters is so much greater than all of that.

I am a middle child. I am blessed to be between two precious women. Thank you Jesus.

Sigh…

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to take a deep audible breath (as in weariness or relief) ~ Merriam and Webster definition.

Sigh. We all do it. I am married to someone who sighs all the time. I have a difficult time trying to figure out what the sigh means, is he sore? Is he frustrated? Is he angry? Is it just a sigh? It is a running commentary most of the time for us. His response usually is it is a cleansing breath.

This morning I read Mark 8:12, “But He sighed deeply in His spirit, and said, “Why does this generation seek a sign? Assuredly, I say to you, no sign shall be given to this generation.” (NKJV)

After reading this, my thought was, “huh, Jesus sighed too”. I then wondered how many times he sighed while on this earth. Most likely a multitude of times! He probably still sighs.

Yesterday while I was coming in from town, I received a text, it was one I was looking forward to. Fortunately, I hit a red light so I was able to read it. I immediately started loudly thanking God and praising Him for the information in this text. I was alone, so I could be as loud as I wanted to be. My oldest had had a successful surgery.

After praising God for a minute or two, I sighed. It was a memorable sigh for me. I sighed and a weight was lifted off of me. A season of life was now in the past. Tears filled my eyes and I had to remind myself that I was behind the wheel, so tears were stopped and I drove the rest of the way home.

A sigh. An action of a four letter word that encompasses so many things. Yesterday it signaled relief, a weight lifted, prayers answered, a season over for the most part.

Life is filled with sighs. Yesterday the sigh was joyful. Today it may mean something entirely different. I keep thinking of a saying popular in years past, What would Jesus do? I read it today, He sighed. Thank you Jesus, yesterday I did what You would do.

Measuring Up

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“For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.” Matthew 7:2 (NKJV)

All of us know the experience of being measured. I can remember my Dad using a small knife to make an indent in the door frame and then marking it to measure our growth.

When I visit our oldest, my granddaughter will take me to a doorway, she will stand there and show me how much she has grown. I make a big deal of her getting too big and that she needs to stop growing. We both laugh and hug and it’s a sweet moment for us as we know she is not going to stop growing while I keep getting shorter.

Measuring is important in life. When we cook, bake, sew, knit, all the activities we do need measurements. Yardsticks, measuring tapes, surveying equipment, they are all necessary.

Lately I have been thinking of how I measure up. How do I measure myself? What yardstick do I use? Do I use a measuring tape? How does this all reflect on how the world sees me, how the Lord sees me?

All deep questions that I think most of us deal with on some level. The self reflection that seeps into our mind quietly like a low tide wave hitting the shoreline.

I really have no answers, but just the thought bubbles above my head. On what scale is my reflection? In my mind do I see myself in a hall of mirrors in a fun house? The ones that make your head elongated and your body squat, giving you a time to laugh at the reflection. Or am I still trying to see the clear reflection of my true self, the true measurement of how I was created?

My deep desire is to see myself as God sees me. Flawed, scarred but healing by His grace and mercy. To see the reflection of Christ in me, so that when the world looks, they don’t see Cathi, they see the reflection of Christ in me.

I Think My Record Has a Scratch On It

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“For God’s gifts and his call can never be withdrawn.” Romans 11:29 (NLT)

I am old enough to remember spending my afternoons and weekends listening to 45’s and albums. In middle school, I loved the Monkees. This group helped me in many ways cope with the death of my Mom. I had all of their albums and played them over and over. On their first album was the song, “The Last Train to Clarksville”, which had a scratch in it. There was one point in the song that made it sound like the singer had a case of the burps, where it just kept replaying a note. The needle was stuck in the groove from the scratch. It was at this point where you either put a penny on the top of the needle to give it more weight to keep tracking or you gently put a finger on top of the needle to keep it tracking. To this day, whenever I hear this song my mind automatically puts the scratch part of the song in my mind. I smile whenever this happens.

We all have records that we play in our mind. Not the actual vinyl albums, but records of how we feel about ourselves or what has been told or yelled at us through the years. These records replay negative things in our mind and follow us through life, unfortunately.

How often do you listen to ‘those’ records? Recently I have listened to mine and it has been stuck on the same note. For me, that note is feeling inadequate. These notes stick in my brain, and they clog my heart and soul. In these times, I cannot clearly see or hear God’s voice telling me that I am enough. I fail to hear God’s voice that Yes, I can write, yes I can minister. Mainly that I CAN.

What I have once more learned that when I focus on the skip in the recording instead of allowing the Lord to rest His finger on the needle of my heart so that the skip is barely noticeable, I can continue with the song that is my life.

God’s finger He places on us is a gentle touch. He doesn’t want us to listen to bad recordings. He has more for us. He has the beautiful harmony that He has created for us. His recordings bring us life and fullness of joy. When I was in middle school we had a stack of 45’s. We would go through that stack and discover songs we had forgotten we had. We’d play them and remember why they were at the bottom of the stack, they were just bad. The same is true in our life, (especially mine), when we reach down and play the recordings that do not give us life, do not draw us closer to God and to what He has planned for us.

I, once more, have to take the record I have been listening to and toss it or better still, break it so it cannot be taken out again.