Wednesday, November 26, 2014

A Thank You Note

Shout to the Lord with joy, everyone on earth.
    Worship the Lord with gladness.
    Come to him with songs of joy.
I want you to realize that the Lord is God.
    He made us, and we belong to him.
We are his people.
    We are the sheep belonging to his flock.
Give thanks as you enter the gates of his temple.
    Give praise as you enter its courtyards.
    Give thanks to him and praise his name.
The Lord is good. His faithful love continues forever.
    It will last for all time to come.
Psalm 100





We are receiving a kingdom that can’t be shaken. So let us be thankful. Then we can worship God in a way that pleases him. We will worship him with deep respect and wonder.
 Hebrews 12:28




Happy Thanksgiving Dear Friends!

In this world of turmoil and chaos sometimes it is easy to forget how truly blessed we are.

So while I'm counting my blessings today I want you to know that I count  YOU among my blessings.

Thank you for each time you read, each comment you leave (the life blood of a blogger) each kind word on Facebook and each time you share a post.

I write to encourage -yet I am always the one who is the most encouraged.

We serve a great God.  I pray you feel Him near you during this holiday season.  
Remember, He is always at work around us-even in the aisle of the grocery store.


Blessing  upon Blessing to each of you,




Thursday, November 20, 2014

Scars

I have had three babies.

Two of them were C-Sections which has left me with a lovely scar across my body.


Typically, it doesn't bother me but there are times when it pulls at my skin or itches and basically

becomes annoying.

Now don't get me wrong, my ugly scar is there for two beautiful reasons.  And when it's annoying

the heck out of me, I think of these two . . .and well it reminds what beauty came from that ugly scar.




But, as beautiful and full of every good gift I could ever imagine-the fact remains that

a scar was left in their wake.



I have some soul scars as well.  And they don't bother me all the time either, but every once in awhile

something will trigger them and they will begin pulling and tugging, and places that I thought were

long healed over begin to ache once more.  It doesn't happen as often as it used to, but it does still 

happen.

Some of those soul scars were put there by others, some of them I willingly inflicted upon myself.

But, no matter why or how they got there, they still tug and cause me pain.


Perhaps I am the only one, but the more time I spend on this  spinning rock, the more I'm convinced 

I'm not.

And really how could deep cuts that left us wounded and spilled out, limping along for months-

perhaps years at a time, how could they be easily forgotten?

But, heres what I do know.  There is  Hope that lets me know the deep, mortal wounding  pain doesn't 

last forever.

If I have a scar-that means my wound has healed.


The days after my c-sections left me in pain,  giant metal staples imbedded in my flesh, required high   

 dosed of medication, both for pain and to prevent infections and brought about a recovery time that 

left me needing help for the most basic of things.

But, those trying difficult moments have long passed, now when my scar bothers me it just reminds 

me of those two beauties. . .and something else it does is remind me of the outpouring of love  and  

grace during those trying days.

My  physical scar-the thing that has brought me the most physical pain in my life- shows me I've 

healed and reminds me of beauty, love and grace.



My soul scars can do the same things.

You and I both know that soul scars can cut deeper and hurt longer than even the worst physical 

scars--

But, if we let the same God who healed the scars remind us of the healing --OH! what a beautiful 

thing that can be.

The problem comes when we realize we haven't let him heal those wounds.  We're walking around

wounded-either from others or ourselves -and those wounds somehow become more sacred to us

than the healing.

We have got to stop wearing our bloody bandages  and showing them to anyone who will take a

look.

It's time to take them to the only one who can heal them, the only true Healer and Great Physician 

let him bind them up and yes over time those wounds will become scars.

Sacred Scars. 

 Scars that show where you've come from and how you've been healed.

Scars that give you the opportunity to tell everyone about your Healer.

It would be nice to make it through this life without any scars-physcial or soul, but that just

isn't going to happen.  So, we have a choice to make when we look at our scars, do we tear them

up and reopen them or do we remember where are healing come from and the beauty that come from

those scars.


Healing with you,





Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Dusty Heart- A Veteran's Day Story From Long Ago

This was originally published on Veteran's Day of 2010. 
I wanted to share this again today in honor of my Hero Dad and all the other hero's we honor today.


I found it in a cardboard box long long ago on some childhood exploration.
A small black box, very unadorned.

I opened it up and looked inside.
And there settled in white silk was a ribbon and a heart.
Shiny and purple there it gleamed with the face of a man looking out at me.


I gasped in delight and was so excited.
To my little girl eyes it looked just like jewelry.
So off to Momma I ran.
Can I wear this?, I eagerly inquired?

Oh no she said with a look in her eyes I did not recognize.
For that belongs to Daddy

Where did it come from I wanted to know.

Go and ask she replied,
So he can tell you his story.

To his lap I ran
Tell me Daddy, Where did your pretty heart come from?

Silence followed for quite awhile and then he said
Now listen honey, I fought in a jungle far away so you could always be free.
I got hurt and so they gave this to me.

Oh Daddy you're so brave, my little girl heart swelled.

Daddy, I asked, Can we take your pretty heart out and put on display for all to see?

Little One, he said, Let's keep it tucked away
There were others who gave their lives in that jungle, they gave so much more than me and promise me you'll never forget all that was sacrificed for you.

You're my hero I said.
I'm no hero, I was just a boy doing what I was asked to do.

But, my little girl heart somehow knew My daddy was a hero even if he let his purple heart grow dusty.


Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. John 15:13