The New Mount Rushmore??

Silas (7) and Caleb (6) were talking about South Dakota. I was surprised that they knew anything about it, since they have never been there and we are Canadian. Caleb said, "That's where Mount Rushmore is!" I asked them if they knew which presidents' faces were carved into the mountain. Between the two of them, these were their answers:

Mr. Linkinham

Peter Clinton

George Washington D.C.

and.....

Stephane Dion!

Haa Haaa!!!

Merry Christmas!

Hello Everyone,

Sorry it has been two weeks since I last posted. There are some things going on around here that have prevented me from blogging lately, but MAYBE this week I will have a chance!

Full Throttle

(Before I start my post, I want to say that this picture is my husband, Jimmy, trying to get as much mowing done as possible before the storm hits! My Dad is in the background, trimming the grass around the new trees. It was taken the same summer as the story in my post.)

Two summers ago I was visiting my parents and grandparents at their farm in Saskatchewan. It was a busy summer, and the farm yard was in need of some work, so I decided to surprise them by mowing their huge yard. I waited until my parents went to run errands and my grandparents had their afternoon nap, then I got out the old ride-on mower. After considerable difficulty I managed to get it started. I mowed for a few hours, very frustrated with the fact that the old mower hardly had enough guts to make it up the slightest hill. Not only that, it wasn’t mowing well at all. It left patches of long grass all along the paths that I was mowing, and I kept backtracking to try to get what I missed. It was a frustrating experience. My Grandpa eventually came out of their house, not looking very pleased. I shut off the mower and tried to explain my wonderful, good deed that I was doing for them. As I was telling him, his eyes wandered over the shoddy mowing job I had done so far. I informed him that they should probably consider getting a new mower and described the great extent to which I had gone during the past few hours in order to mow such a small area. Being a man of few words, he just turned on the mower, moved a lever up that said, “Throttle,” and said, “That should help.” The sputtering, half-dead lawn mower roared into life. When I pushed the gas pedal, it took off so fast that I almost flipped over backwards! I had been mowing all that time at half throttle!

In terms of my Christian walk, I have operated for much of my life at half throttle. For too many years, I puttered along, feeling like I was expending every ounce of energy I had but not getting very far, even backtracking and going in circles now and then. Often, I would stall out completely and it would take awhile to get moving again. There are some things, as Christians, that can stall us from moving forward. Some of these can include:

• Unconfessed sin


• Living in the flesh, rather than in the Spirit


• Wounds from the past that need healing


• Unforgiveness


• Not spending adequate time daily with God

There are probably more things that could put a person at half throttle, and if you feel that you are sputtering a bit and need a boost, then go to the One who will tell you the truth. In the same way that my Grandpa fixed the problem because he understood how the mower operates, so God knows us each individually and He knows what we need to move forward and thrive as believers. Believe me, it is much better to be moving ahead full throttle! I am so thankful that the Lord, through the truth of His Word, has flipped my throttle switch. Until that moment, I truly didn’t know what I was missing! If you feel like you are walking with a heavy load, if you feel like something just isn’t quite right, if you feel like you are expending tons of energy and not getting very far… Then you probably need the Ultimate Mechanic, your Creator, to turn up your throttle.

You Might Be Manna

At the beginning of October, someone blessed us with enough money to cover our rent for November. We saved it all month, not spending a penny of it. The day before rent was due, however, the bank took out their monthly fees, which left us a little short. What were we going to do? The first of the month came… and went. On Sunday, November 2, we were on our way out the door to go to church and saw our caretaker. Jimmy and I whispered to each other, “Should we tell him we don’t have rent?” “No, let’s go to church and pray for our miracle.” So that’s what we did.

As if the pastor knew our situation (but he didn’t!) he preached on finances, and everybody prayed blessings into their financial situation. Boy, did we pray!! After church a man walked up to me, slipped $20 into my hand and said, “God wants me to give you this. Maybe you can take your kids to McDonalds or something.” I burst into tears and said, “You are the miracle we prayed for this morning. This $20 is paying our rent this month! Please, can we skip McDonalds and pay our rent with it?” This man had no idea of our needs.

What if someone had not blessed us with rent money? What if this man had not given the $20?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem…. DO IT.

On Tuesday, I opened our apartment-sized deep freeze where we keep our frozen meat, only to find that the freezer had quit working. Our entire winter’s supply of meat that my parents had given us (80-100 pounds of it) was bad and had to be thrown out. After sitting down and bawling for a good long time, I cleaned up the big mess. Oh God, what are we going to do?

A few hours later, I got a phone call. “Hello, this is Aunt Ruth. We have just gotten back to Winnipeg from your parents’ house in Saskatchewan. They sent some things for us to deliver to you. Can you come get it? There is a box of FROZEN MEAT so you should come as soon as possible so it doesn’t thaw.” Yes. This really happened this week!! It is enough meat to get us through at least a month, maybe even two. It’s our manna – God always keeps His promises and He will never leave us hungry!

What if my parents had not given us the box of meat? What if my uncle and aunt were not willing to deliver it?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem… DO IT.

A couple of years ago, in Jimmy’s first year of nursing, we fed our kids the last bowl of oatmeal in the house. We were out of food. Lunch time was nearing, and we had no idea what we would eat. What are we going to do?

Someone rang our door bell and when I let her in, she gave us $200 worth of Sobeys’ gift certificates. Wow! Lunch was provided. Oh, but wait… a problem. Our gas tank was empty and we had no way to get to Sobeys. I checked our mailbox. There was a $20 bill in it. Our gas money was provided!

What if the lady did not bring us the Sobeys gift certificates? What if someone had not sent $20 for us to put gas into the van?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem… DO IT.

A few years ago, a woman in my ladies Bible Study group told a story of when she first started going to church. She had very little money and had just learned about tithing. She saw two pennies on the floor, picked them up and in a laughing manner asked a nearby pastor, “So what’s the tithe on two cents?” He said, “Well, why don’t you just throw them both in the plate and see what God can do?” So she did. That day, someone had put an anonymous $200 gift in the offering plate for her. She received ten thousand times more back than what she gave!

What if that person hadn’t obeyed God’s voice and kept their money instead?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem… DO IT!

The Snowblower

A snowblower is an amazing machine. As you push it, it gobbles up all of the snow in its path and spews it out to the side. You never have to worry about that snow again. Why? Because now it is in your neighbour’s driveway!

I have heard rumours of snowblower wars. It happens when the neighbour gets home after a clear, sunny day and sees twice as much snow in his yard as when he left for work in the morning. So, he gets his snowblower out and gets to work pumping it all back into the yard next door. The battle has begun. From there, it escalates. Not only is the driveway snow being spat back and forth. No. In order to maximize vengeance, shoveling snow from the front lawn into the path of the snowblower works wonders. And it is worth the effort.

Sometimes when we speak, we “dump” on each other. We yell at our spouses. We get grumpy with our neighbours. We complain to our boss. We snap at our kids. This results in those around us becoming out of sorts as well and we start getting back what we’ve been handing out… sometimes more than we gave!

Next time you feel like you need to “release” don’t blow it into the neighbour’s yard. There is a better way of handling it. God is always listening and available to hear your cries. He knows your frustrations, your hang-ups and your needs even better than you do. He will never retaliate or yell back. He will, however, gently correct and guide you. He will lead you to the truth. He will comfort you. Tell Him everything, then open your Bible and let the Lord speak to you.

God’s “snow removal service” is much more effective than just shoving around all that excess stuff that keeps blowing around. Let Him “clean off your driveway”. He does a great job! He is even willing to clean your neighbour’s yard so you don’t end up with a yard full of their snow again. Once you take care of your own driveway, pray for those around you too!

Our Eyes Met

I turned the T.V. on to catch the news headlines before I stepped out to run some errands. Flipping channels, I saw the big, brown eyes of a gaunt, but smiling little boy on a World Vision commercial.

It was as if our eyes met.

Tears filled my eyes, as always, and I quickly changed channels. Annoyance with child sponsorship programs rose up within me – “I wish they wouldn’t use these beautiful little kids to make me feel guilty. I already sponsor a child. What more do they want from me?” Instead of checking the news, I just shut off the T.V. and quickly left the house.

First stop – downtown. As I walked down Portage Avenue a man, smelling of alcohol, stumbled toward me and asked for change.

Our eyes met.

I patted my pockets and to my relief they were empty… Well, except for the $20 bill. “Buy him lunch." The quiet, inner whisper of the Lord’s voice was loud and clear. “Buy the man some lunch." I replied to both the Lord and the man’s outstretched hand with one emphatic word: “NO! - I mean, no, sorry sir, I have no change. But, uh, God bless you.” I quickly walked away, avoiding the man’s eyes in an attempt to also avoid the conviction that was rising within my heart.

I walked to the mall and opened the doors. Ahhhhh! Warm air hit my face and my cold nose began to thaw. As I walked to the office where my appointment was, I noticed a rock in my shoe and sat down on a mall bench. As I sat back up after fixing my shoe I saw an unmistakably pregnant teenage girl sitting across from me.

Our eyes met.

As my gaze locked with hers, her eyes begged me for mercy and compassion. She looked down at the cross necklace that I wore, and a tear spilled down one cheek. I felt a sudden and powerful urge to tell her that even in these circumstances, Jesus still loves her. But I didn’t tell her that. I just asked, “Are you ok?” She nodded her head as if to say “yes,” while more tears flowed down her face. “That’s good. Well, I hope you have a better day,” I said, and uncomfortably stood up and walked away, hurrying to my appointment.

After my meeting, I went home and baked some bread. As I was kneading the dough, a thought came to me – maybe the pastor and his family would like some homemade bread. I ignored that thought and let my mind wander, pondering the events of the day and the people I had run into. But for some reason I didn’t want to think about them. I responded aloud to my thoughts. “Be quiet!”

After I finished baking my bread, I sat down at the table and spread butter on my fresh, hot slice. Again, I thought of the pastor and his family. “Oh – Be quiet!!” I hollered to myself. Why would the pastor need bread? And even if his family does need food, there are a lot more people with a lot more time and money to provide for them. So please, would my thoughts… BE… QUIET?!?!

I put on some nice, mellow worship music and sat down. As I took a bite out of my fresh, warm, and oh-so-delicious bread, four people suddenly stood before me: the pastor, the pregnant girl, the man asking for change and the World Vision child.

Our eyes met.

I sat there, with my bread in my mouth, so stunned that I was unable to chew it. The four people joined hands with each other, and suddenly became one Person – the Lord Jesus.

Our eyes met.

Yes. This was all a dream. And I woke up with a tear-soaked pillow, begging the Lord for a second chance. In fact, I think I will go bake some bread right now…


Matthew 25:34-40
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Free Press Letter to the Editor

I wrote a letter to the Winnipeg Free Press, and they printed it. If you want, you can check it out here:

http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/editorial/story/4248711p-4891938c.html

I would like to expand on it, but I don't have a spare moment to do so right now! Maybe later?

Politics and Personal Hypocrisy

Please note: This was inspired by a post I read at http://terrysoapbox.blogspot.com/


I am tired of having to defend my Christianity because of the Republican Party. Republicans are not synonymous with Christians. I do not like people assuming when I say I am a believer that I am “one of those Republican hypocrites”. (Please note: I am not defending the Democratic Party either!)

How was Sarah Palin demonstrating godly love as "the pitbull", the one sent out to sarcastically and personally attack the Democrats? How was she displaying integrity when she was in the middle of "troopergate"? How was she an example of a godly wife and mother by running for VP - probably a very hectic schedule - when she has some kids who really need a mother right now?

I saw an interview with Sarah Palin after she got home to Alaska after this whole thing was over. To me, she looked relieved to be back in the familiar. I think this whole campaign may have been a wake-up call for her. I do not doubt her faith. Everyone makes mistakes... and hers were very much in the spotlight. Imagine if our weaknesses were on CNN every night! Jesus Himself said that "the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light" (Luke 16:8). I think that she tumbled into a situation that was far beyond what she was capable of controlling: Hopefully this was a lesson learned. We should be neither applauding her nor booing her… We should be praying for her.

I could go on about the Republican Party and their so-called "Christian values". One example is embryonic stem cell research. The Republicans talk like Christians in order to get their votes. But if you look at Bush, he okayed embryonic stem cell research just months after coming to power 8 years ago... after adamantly insisting he was against it during his campaign. He didn't care: He was voted in thanks to "The Base" (ie., gullible Christians) and then could keep doing what he pleased as long as "The Base" continued choosing to turn a blind eye. After all, President Bush must be a Christian... He says so and he is a Republican.

During this recent presidential campaign, we listened to many speeches by both candidates. One thing I noticed was that, even when I wasn't in the same room, I could tell who was speaking because of the noise of the crowd. Jimmy would turn on the T.V. and when I heard a negative, rumbling "boooo..... boooo...." I knew it was McCain supporters. He repeatedly had to tell them to stop booing. It was the McCain supporters who spewed personal attacks toward the Democrats, not the other way around. Is this a demonstration of Jesus' love? Aren't we to love our enemies, and bless others? (And are the Democrats even "the enemy"?)

The Bible warns us in Matthew 10:16 to be "shrewd as snakes and innocent as doves". We need to see that the world's system of governing is not God's system. We need to pray earnestly for our leadership... and be very hesitant to endorse any particular political party.

To bring this down to a personal level (for what is the point of just looking at others, without looking inward), I have been asking myself what I am doing that is hypocritical? What do I say, and then not do? When have I been overly negative and critical of others while not meeting my own standards of godly character? Oh.... So many times. I know that there will probably be people who read this who can clearly point out my hypocrisy, harsh judgments, and lack of brotherly love. To those people I ask your forgiveness. So, Lord, please forgive me, and help me represent You to those around me.

The List

Today is a new day.

It is not yesterday.

Yesterday's worries, activities and scurrying are over. Even if I didn't get everything on yesterday's list done, the day didn't wait for me.

Deadlines come... and they pass.

But today is a new day.

A NEW LIST.

Some of yesterday's things to do are on my list today. But it is still today's list. I can't look back to yesterday, or I will be overwhelmed. I don't have to be perfect. His mercies are new every morning. I just need to allow His new mercies to flood my life, continually washing through my soul and mind. I need to forgive myself because He has forgiven me, and I need to allow myself to see that His mercies are for me.

Praise God, today is a new day!

Looking Forward

(I originally wrote this in August, 2007, but I wanted to post it today.)

A couple days ago, I was driving down Bishop Grandin (speed limit, 80 km/hour) and suddenly felt the urge to drive only while looking in my rearview mirror. So, I prudently waited until there was no traffic ahead of me, and tried it out. Here is what I discovered:

1) It is very hard to stay on course.

2) It is a highly stressful thing to do.

3) If there had been any obstacles ahead of me, I would have crashed, whereas if I was looking ahead, I could have easily avoided them.

4) If you keep it up without looking ahead for a long time and realize you are going off course, you start to steer the exact opposite way that you are supposed to when you try to get back in the right lane.

5) Without conscious effort, I slowed down considerably.

Do I need to explain the analogy? Naaaahhh. I think we get the point.

Let's keep looking ahead!!

He is Bigger!

Every Sunday morning when I was young, I was jolted awake by a pounding beat and screaming guitar. Well, maybe twanging guitar is a better description. It was my Dad listening to his Southern Gospel music, which truly drove me nuts. I could never figure out why he would not even let my sister and I turn up our little Ghetto Blasters during civilized hours, whereas he could crank up the big sound system with four gigantic speakers at 7:00 a.m.

SEVEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!!

And what really got to me is that, fully against my will, my toes would start tapping. First they would start to twitch. I would tell them, “Listen, toes, I can't stand this music and it just woke me up out of a wonderful, sound sleep.” But soon they were tapping to the rhythm and my head would start bobbing. This was really a problem because I am of Mennonite descent. Dancing was strictly prohibited and I was worried that this could be classified as dancing in some people’s books.

All these years, I have kept this secret well-hidden. No, not the "dancing"... My enjoyment of Southern Gospel music! Dad, despite my incessant complaining about your music, it is time to tell you that I am a Closet-Quartet-Liker. There. It’s out there. Ahhh… It feels good to just say it.

There is one song that I clearly recall and lately I have been tapping my toes to its rhythm that still reverberates through my head. It goes like this:

“Bigger than all my problems, Bigger than all my fears
God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see
Bigger than all my questions, Bigger than anything
My God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see

Bigger than all the shadows that fall across my back
God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see
Bigger than all confusion, Bigger than anything
My God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see

Bigger than all the giants, fear and unbelief
God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see
Bigger than all my hangups, Bigger than anything
My God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see”

Boys in a Box

Being an extremely over-protective homeschooling parent, it may surprise you that for about a year now I have been pondering the idea of putting my kids into school. Actually, “pondering” may not be the appropriate word. Wrestling. Contending. Crying out to the Lord in a distressed manner. Yes—that’s more like it.

Last year, I heard the Lord tell me that we should put the boys in school next year and I could not put it out of my mind. It wasn’t like, “Hmmm… I wonder if we should put the kids in school?” It was the clear voice of God unequivocally speaking to me—the kind of voice that makes a person stand up, salute and say “YES SIR!” So, despite my fears and hesitations, and maybe because I know I must conquer them, I forged ahead in my quest to find peace about sending my little innocent babes to the big world out-of-sight of their ever-looming mother. I mentioned it to my husband a few times, but he was not really for the idea and since I was so hesitant, I didn’t mind a bit. Hubby says, “no”. That’s a good reason to keep them home!

This September, at the beginning of our homeschooling year, the issue rose up again. Loudly. God would not leave me alone. I MUST put the kids in school next year. I finally came to a place of being at peace about it. AHHHHHH. Now I can finally let them go.

Then it happened. The glitch in the system. (Or so I thought.) My husband would not have any of it. “Absolutely, positively NO WAY are we putting the kids in school next year. I won’t even pray about it because I already know we’re not supposed to. Don’t even ask about it again. If God wants us to put the kids in school, I will have to hear the audible voice of God Himself.”

YIKES!!!! Now what???? I couldn’t sleep for a couple of weeks. Was I not hearing from God? Even more disturbing than that, could it be that Jimmy was not hearing from God?? (He has a pretty good track record on matters of importance, and I have learned to trust his judgment.) So, I spent my nights questioning my ability to hear from God, and begging the Lord to show Jimmy what to do, and that I will have peace about whatever he decides.

Two weeks later, Jimmy had a dream…

He was in an operating room where a doctor was doing heart surgery on two boys. When their chests were opened, Jimmy grabbed the boys’ hearts, put them in a box and ran off with them. He wanted to preserve them. He wanted to keep those two little boys’ hearts safe from harm and close to his heart in the little box he had made for them. But of course those precious hearts could not thrive in a box. They began to die…

And Jimmy woke up. And he knew. He knew that we could not keep our little boys in a box any longer. We had to let them go. We had to release them to the Father who will not only protect them better than we can, but also release them to reach their God-given destiny.
God’s timing is wonderful. He is teaching me to trust Him… When the time is right, He will speak. I can trust Him to speak to Jimmy. I can trust Him with our children. But more than that, we are learning that God’s hands are always carrying, but never crushing.

Yes, our kids are going to be put into a “real” school next year… I get to keep them home one more year, and I mean to make the most of it!

The Tree

From down the street, over the barbed-wire fence and across the field it beckoned to me. Its branches swaying in the wind appeared to be waving to me like a long-lost friend. It was The Tree.

I was seven years old and our family had just moved from the forest-laden north to the bald prairies of southern Saskatchewan. The tallest plant that I had spotted before The Tree was a tumbleweed! Needless to say, I just HAD to go climb that tree. So, I walked down the street (beyond the limits my parents had set), scooted under the barbed-wire fence (with only a minor tear to the seat of my pants) and ran at top-speed to The Tree (to avoid detection of my mother's watchful eye).

I climbed that tree like a monkey to the top branches. To my seven year old soul, it felt like a little taste of heaven. I swayed with the wind, all alone but not at all lonely. I looked all around me, and there were no other trees to be seen. There was, however, a clump of low-lying bushes far off in the distance that looked fun to explore. I scampered down the tree, but when I got to the ground the bushes were no longer visible. Not deterred, I began walking in the general direction of the bushes and after considerable time I found them. From there I saw, much further away, more scrub brush (a term used by Canadian prairie-dwellin' folk to describe the prickly, half-dead bushes that grow in the dry prairies). I went to explore. And so it went, from field to field, from bushes to bushes. Eventually, my sense of adventure began to fade, and I realized that not only was I alone... I was also beginning to feel a little bit lonely. And hungry - the rumblings in my stomach indicated that it was well past lunch time. I HAD to get home.

Suddenly, what had been a fun and exciting excursion became the stuff of nightmares as I turned around to run home and saw TWO different clumps of bushes in slightly different directions. From which had I come? Now, I was not only lonely, but very, very afraid.

I wandered for hours, crying and screaming, until I eventually saw The Tree. Its branches looked like they were reaching out to embrace me, and I felt very much like the prodigal son returning home. I only hoped that my parents were going to be as welcoming!
It was late in the evening when I walked through the door of my house to meet a pair of very upset parents and a handful of concerned neighbours who had been searching for me for most of the day.

Well I must admit that, unlike the prodigal son, I received neither a fatted calf nor a new robe. Instead, I was thoroughly disciplined, fed a healthy supper, and tucked into bed with a hug and a kiss. My bed had never before felt so cozy and comfortable. It was good to be home!

As I grew up from being a child tempted by the lure of a tree, to a woman surrounded by the enticing facade that one is constantly bombarded with, the Lord has often reminded me of The Tree. It was a good lesson learned: It is better to stay on the right path in the first place than to painfully search for the way back and have to deal with the consequences.

My Blankie

When the thunder roars

And I'm tucked in bed,

I just grab my blankie

And I cover my head.

When I'm scared of the dark

And I'm all alone,

I just snuggle my blankie

And I let out a moan.

I can't figure out why -

Though my white-knuckled fingers

Are grasping my blankie,

The terror still lingers.

And then I remember

What my Mommie said;

"Just talk to the Lord

When you're scared in your bed."

I lower my blankie

To stick out my eyes,

Saying, "I know You're there, God

And You hear my cries."

I stick out my head...

Now it's down to my neck.

But I hold blankie close

To keep monsters in check.

"Please keep me safe, Lord

Though faith I may lack -

This blankie won't help much

In case of attack."

As morning draws closer

And I'm still alive,

I'm happy to see

One more night I've survived.

No thanks to my blankie

Though it kept me warm.

It was the covering of God

That kept me from harm.

Swimming Lessons

I am a homeschooling mom. People homeschool their children for many and various reasons. Some want to provide their children with a rich, natural environment to encourage a love of learning and don't want to stifle their kids' creativity in the rigid structure of the school system. Some parents know about the benefits of one-on-one tutoring and have chosen homeschooling to pursue that method of instruction. Many parents don't agree with much of the public school curriculum and want to teach their children in a faith-based setting. These reasons are very good and all of them were factored into our decision to homeschool. However, my primary reason to homeschool my children is because I am the most over-protective parent I have ever met and am unwilling to let my children out of my sight. When I insist on holding my almost 6 and 7 year old's hands when walking across the street even though they know full-well not to run off into traffic and someone tells me, "You know... You're not still going to be doing that when they're 18", I am quick to retort, "And WHY NOT??"

This over-protective nature of mine was glaring today when I took my children to swimming lessons. I brought some cross-stitching to work on while my kids were learning to swim. However, I did not sew a single stitch... I was too busy clutching the fabric in my hands and wringing it like an old dish rag while ensuring my children were still afloat in the pool. A woman came and sat next to me and attempted to strike up a conversation. She was also a homeschooling mom. I don't think her reason for homeschooling was the same as mine. I could tell because she was able to carry on a coherent conversation despite the fact that her four year old was flailing in the deep end. I couldn't. In fact, at one point I forgot to respond to one of her comments, which I realized when I suddenly and uncomfortably felt her gaze on me. "Oh! I'm sorry", I said, "I couldn't talk because I was watching my kids. Heh, heh, heh." A little later, I couldn't see my five year old. But I stayed calm... Well, sort of. I did not leap over the bleachers, jump the balcony and dive in to save my young one. No. However, without giving it a thought, I did grab the hand of this lady sitting next to me (I would tell you her name, but I don't know it). I did not let go. I hung on like she was a life preserver and desperately gasped for air, as I could only hope my son was doing at that point. "Where's my baby??", I cried in anguish. The lady attempted to pry her hand away from mine and said, "Baby? I thought you had five and six year olds. They are standing with their class next to the life jackets over there." I tried to discreetly remove my hand from hers. "Oh... heh, heh, heh. Thanks..."

Despite this little setback today, I know that God has been working on my heart in this area. He is showing me that clutching my precious children so tightly is not helping them, it is holding them back. He is so much more able to take care of them than I am. His loving arms are the safest place to be, and it is my job as a parent to teach them His ways and point them to the Father who will never leave them but who will empower them to reach their potential. Like a small child who doesn't realize they are damaging a butterfly by holding on to its wings, I can do no good for my kids if I don't release them from my closed fist.

Lord, forgive me for not trusting You. Please continue the good work You have begun in me. I release my children into Your hands, knowing that You intend only good for them, and that you will protect them according to Psalm 91.

Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."
Surely He will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with His feathers,
and under His wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
If you make the Most High your dwelling -
even the Lord, who is my refuge -
then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
For He will command His angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
"Because he love Me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honour him.
With long life will I satisfy him
and show him My salvation."

Perspectives

As I leaned on my apartment's balcony railing, I admired the beautiful orange glow of the sunset. It had been a beautiful, sunny day and the sun's rays shone through a haze of humidity rising from the earth, creating a spectacular sight. Not a cloud was to be seen to block my view. I whispered a prayer of thanks to God for the great day, and pulled up a chair to watch the show He was providing.

Suddenly, KABOOM!!

Thunder shook the building and had me jumping out of my chair! Within a minute, wind was whipping around the corner of the building, blowing sand into my eyes, and pushing around the kids' toys that had been sitting peacefully on the balcony only moments before. Before clouds rolled over the building into my view, the rain was beginning. I ran through the apartment building to look out the east side windows. The sky was black.

I again stood on my balcony, this time watching the storm. What an object lesson God provided to show me my limited perspective. When I thought all was calm, a storm was brewing just behind my back and I couldn't even see it coming. God saw the storm coming. In fact, He even orchestrated it.

Sometimes all we can see is the storm. We can't see beyond the moment of trouble. We forget that the One who created the storm will be the One to calm the sea. We need to remember that even amid the roar of the raging storm, He whispers... "I will keep My promises."

Purple Footprints

When I was young, I used to imagine what it would be like if every footstep I took left a permanent purple footprint. I tried to walk a slightly different path to school everyday so I could leave a bigger mark in the world. I zigged and I zagged. I did circles around trees. And sometimes I even imagined leaving handprints on things as I walked by them... If those prints had really stayed, that town would be painted purple!

I wonder sometimes how my life - the things I have said and done - have impacted others. I wonder if the prints I have left have been pretty purple, angry red, cheery yellow, or gloomy shades of grey. I'm sure I have left behind some of all of those. Everywhere we go, we always leave our presence in our wake.

My Maker has put a permanent imprint on my heart Y (Ephesians 1:13) and I hope and pray that I reflect Him every step of my journey in an increasing measure (and that He will cover those times that I don't).

My Heart

One day shortly after God miraculously healed my Dad's broken neck and back, the Lord came to me. He said, "You think that healing a body is a huge miracle (and it is), but don't underestimate the most miraculous thing; the healing of a wounded heart". Then He said, "Let Me show you your heart". I saw a heart, full of sores - gross and infected. It smelled. It was struggling to beat. It was absolutely disgusting and I was repelled at the sight of it. OH GOD - is this MY heart?? It is?!? I'm gross! How can this be? How can this heart of mine be healed? Infection was oozing through my heart. It looked beyond repair. And I felt absolute despair. Was I really that bad? But I have never really been "rebellious"! I've gone on missions! I've witnessed to a lot of people!

And God pointed out to me a sore on my filthy heart and said, "That's what YOUR righteousness looks like." And I cried to God, "Then there's no hope! What can be done for my heart?"

Suddenly, God's finger reached towards my heart. On it, there was oil and ointment. He touched a gaping, infected sore. The sore disappeared. One by one He touched my sores. Slowly the stench in the room dissipated and my heart began to beat stronger, at first tentatively, then with the full force of an athlete. He replaced my "righteous" filth with the righteousness of Jesus.

Once the sores were gone, I saw some stab wounds. Every time my heart beat, the wounds would hurt. Those wounds were from people who had hurt me. God reached down again with His finger and put a soothing salve on those stab wounds and they began to heal. But one wound, the biggest one, did not heal. "Forgive", God said, "Forgive them". I forgave those people who had hurt my heart, and the wound began to heal, eventually leaving only a scar. The scar remained as a testimony to others - so they could witness the mighty healing power of God.

My Father spoke once more, "Healing a heart - that's the biggest miracle, but nothing is impossible for Me."