WE ARE ONE

Jesus Prays for All Believers

"My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one—

Her Heart

I’m not so sure that I truly understood the pain that she must have felt while watching Him travel from place to place being treated as a criminal and as a star, so to speak, until I gave birth to my son. He was a surprise, a big surprise. I remember looking in the mirror after the second test thinking huh?. . . . Me . . .Us . . . We can’t do this. I remember the sound of the receptionist’s voice when she said "Congratulations" and I said "A . . . sure" she responded with "Oh" I then began to try to redeem myself with "No. . . no . . . I’m happy".

What did she feel? Was she as afraid as I was?

More so I think.

My pregnancy was great, my friends and family were happy, my husband was a proud father to be.

I couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

Did she keep a smile on her face?

I think she must have.

How did he feel when she told him? Did he look shocked?

Most fathers do the first time.

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.


I wonder if she talked to Him before he was born? Did she put her hand on her tummy to feel His kicks?

She must have.

When my son was born I sat in the hospital bed looking down at this small being wondering what to do. How I loved him so much. I could hardly take my eyes from him.

She must have been as fascinated.

I remember standing at the window of my son’s room looking out at the moon, so big and silver. It looked as if you could touch it. I remember as I stood with my sleeping baby, worried as all new mothers worry about the things that could take this little one away, I remember thinking God how hard to send Him here to die. I couldn’t let my child go to the cross. I turned and looked at my sleeping boy safe and warm. I truly know the sacrifice that mother made for us.

She carried a child for us.

She nurtured a child for us.

She watched as they beat, mocked, tortured, and one by one drove nails into Him.

After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

My son had three stitches above his eye I want to take his pain away and I felt like hitting the doctor when he rushed not making sure it was numb.

Only three tiny stitshes went through my heart.

Did it feel as if those nails were going into her heart each one more painful than the other?

How broken she must have felt as she watched her son die a horrible and painful death. Was she relieved when He took His last breath?

No more pain.

Now it’s done.

How hard it must have been to hold her son knowing He wouldn’t smile at her on this earth again.

Was she comforted by the knowledge that He Was, Is, And Will Always Be?

I know a mother’s heart. She must have hurt so much for Him.

I know that God gave her comfort through it all.

I am so grateful for Mary.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. God did not send His Son into the world to condemn it, but to save it" (John 3:16-17).

I wonder if. . .

I wrote this after my first day of work.

This morning it was cold and dark as I drove to work. I have late issues. I was way too early. I wasn’t able to run the engine to keep myself warm, and I don’t have gas issues. I was bumping orange. I didn’t want to gas up on the way, it might have put me behind.

I sat in my cold car in the dark wishing for more light, I could at least write while I was wasting time. I had taken the time to stop for a donut and a diet soda. Everyone knows that one cancels out the other. I didn’t want to spend my day sitting in front of a computer, I was lamenting about it and the fact that I was cold, sleepy, and my donuts weren't the yummiest. The longer I sat the more I felt sorry for myself, I was cold and hadn't timed my drive.


As the morning progressed, I continued to think about me and me. I could have been at home asleep, in the warm bed. That’s when prospective walked through the parking lot. He must have been colder than I was and probably would have eaten the donuts without a complaint. He made his way to the back of a building. I wondered if he slept in a warm safe place last night.

I wondered if the snowfall had been a hardship on him instead of beautiful. I smiled at the white blanket of snow when I looked outside the morning before.

I sat in my cold car knowing that man has been colder than I have ever been.

I also wondered if he knew Jesus. I watched as these men walked past my car. I wondered where they had spent the night, was it a stairwell cold and damp?

Had they put their tired bodies on the ground and prayed that God would protect them from harm?

Did they ask for forgiveness as they feel asleep?

What indignities had they suffered yesterday?

A proprietor forcing them out of the restroom before they could wash?

People looking away as if they don’t see them?

Was it hard when they realized people were pretending that they weren’t existing. . .invisible?

Did they remember the moment when they became a non?

Is it easier not being noticed?

Not having to see the sad eyes. . . the discussed. . . the faces of their fellow humans.

Wait, aren't they a plight of society? Do they care if they are a plight?

Do they know Jesus?

I could almost understand how one could become disillusioned by God and all of His promises. . . except that we weren’t promised a two-story home in a nice neighborhood. His own Son walked from place to place homeless. Jesus didn’t live in a two-story, four bedroom, two and a half bath, with the open kitchen to entertain friends, home. No, we weren’t promised this life that we have . . .we are blessed by it.


When my children complain about a bad life, as children often do. I say "Wow. I’ll bet that kid eating out of the trash is glad he’s not you." I want my children to grow up with the best that I can provide. I hate the idea of them ever being nonpersons foraging through the trash for a meal. I also hate the idea of them turning away from their brothers and sisters.


How did they get that way?


We were told not to feed or give them money. It’s so difficult for me. I have food that could be shared. I could skip a soda for someone. The sad reality is if I give they will come. Our customers would stop coming.

Who wants to get out of the car only to have a dirty hand put in their face?

Who wants to be followed through the parking lot?

Would you feel good about spending your money on the top of the line power tool after seeing someone pick up a discarded bag from Micky D’s hoping for a left over scrap?

Would you want to go to the restroom only to find a man standing naked washing himself in the sink?

I wonder if he felt his dignity lost when my fellow co-worker walked in?

Did he know Jesus?


1 Corinthians 4:8-13 (New International Version)

8Already you have all you want! Already you have become rich! You have become kings—and that without us! How I wish that you really had become kings so that we might be kings with you! 9For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like men condemned to die in the arena. We have been made a spectacle to the whole universe, to angels as well as to men. 10We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are honored, we are dishonored! 11To this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, we are in rags, we are brutally treated, we are homeless. 12We work hard with our own hands. When we are cursed, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure it; 13when we are slandered, we answer kindly. Up to this moment we have become the scum of the earth, the refuse of the world.


I wonder:

Do they know Jesus?


Will they be sitting at the table with me passing Heavenly fruit salad some day?


Will I hear "Hey, I remember you, you like to watch the sunrise. I remember watching you stand outside and smile at the sky. I knew you knew Him."?

He's home

My baby boy is home!He actually jumped into my arms last night.

I love that boy.

He is suppose to be doing his homework I can hear him laughing at the tv on in the other room.

Now he is questioning me, a way to avoid homework.

He is a joy.I still wonder how I could be raising a republican conservative scientist kid. I’m a middle ground, hippie, rock'n roll, boot scoot'n democrat.

God works in strange ways. :-}

Leah

When I studied Leah in my women’s class, I wept for her. I honesty fell in love with this woman. Had I known her now struggling so hard to find favor in her husbands eyes I would have said loose him. You my friend are a kind and loving person you don’t need him. (I’ve said that to a friend recently when her husband’s eyes were straying) I realize that’s not the way to handle it. I’ve always been a love me of leave me kind of person.


I don’t think I’d still be married if my husband were like Leah and Jacob. How horrible she must have felt with the way he looked at her. I wanted to read that he fell in love with this woman. I didn't, It's not there. I cry at the opera I want Pinkerton to see how much Butterfly loves him. Marriage is hard and to do it without love, true love you will fall short of the bank when your boat is capsized. You will just pull each other under, and you’ll both drown.

Rachel is the world of revealed words and deeds. She held beauty that Jacob could perceive and desire. But Leah was too lofty, too far beyond all things, and so Jacob could not attach himself to her in the same way.


Yet it is from Leah that almost all of the Jewish nation descends.
That speaks volumes to me. God saw favor with her He loved her and blessed her children.


When we feel unworthy, when we start to feel as if were falling short, God favors us.

It's a listen to opera day

My daughter is trying to push my buttons. My new job is eating my brain.

I need Bryn Terfel today to calm my being.

I am thankful for music .

I NEEDED THIS!

God sends us such great moments, just when I thought "Great now I have to go to the fair grounds to help set up" my daughter says from the back seat "The reason I wore flip flops is that it makes me look seven." It’s cold and we may get snow. To a six-year-old seven is big. I said "Well then if I wear them will I look younger?" "Mom your toes are too big they will stick out and, and be stuck here and the big one there" I can’t argue with that, I do have fat feet.

I got a hug, held a kid, and I helped move some boxes then headed for church for sound check. I taped a cord and did some grunt work.

Spoke to someone about the elephant. Not sure he heard me.

We had a Baptism before the event. Way cool. Sends some perspective my way.

God sent some great people to sing tonight. I loved watching them play during sound check. You can see that they love praising the Lord. Best friends, Durant, Watershed, New Reign, and others.

It has me pumped up for the rest of the week. :-}Even though the water heater just blew. :-} God will provide

Elephant Food

This is elephant feed.

Someone spoke to me tonight about our church I'm sick at the things we are going through. My heart is heavy. I'm not sure if we can take the sand. I know I must put it in God's hands.

I found this on someones blog. I know that this is feeding fear and anger. Truth doesn't matter. He said it and some are upset.

**** made this comment, "I am a recovering Church of Christer." And noted that "******* Church is a recovering Church of Christ." He adds, "What we are trying to recover from is a mean spirited, divisive, judgmental, narrow, arrogant, harmful, despicable version of the Christian faith that has done terrible damage to the cause of Christ in this world." **** isn't saying all churches from the Restoration Movement are this way, but the fact is the far right within Churches of Christ have been this way. Pretty strong statements from ****. I'm not sure I would have even phrased it that way but I do agree with his premise. Most surprising, he is still employed there! (Which is good, he is a very bright guy.) Give it a listen if you have a chance. I'd love to hear some thoughts. The title is "Both And"

LOOKING BACK AT SIN.

She walks the streets of S&G, she is home this is the only place she wants to be. She steps over a drunk and moves on without a thought. She ignores cries of help and the sin in the streets as she goes to the home of a friend.


The women sit around gabbing about the husbands how they don’t measure up. They laugh as they drink wine and smoke. What are you complaining about your husband is great? One woman says to her. Please don’t get me started on that one. She says as the slave fills her glass. She smiles a sly smile at him. Not that one the mistress of the house says. I’ve got better. They laugh.


I’m thinking of having some work done. Really? they lean in. Yes the works. I want to look younger than my youngest. That’s a lot of work one woman says. They all laugh.
She feeds and takes care of her daughters that are still left at home then sits on the sofa to relax in front of the television. The mob show is on the one about hookers in Nevada. That’s the life for me, she thinks as she watches. She has just settled in when her husband comes storming in with two men. She had never seen the likes of them. They frighten her. He begins to bark orders at her. She hastens to gather food for them with her husband. She can hardly speak. To process this is to admit that God exists.


The sounds of a crowd forming makes her tremble. She knows that this will bring trouble. Send the men out! They demand. Her husband steps outside to speak with the men who have come to harm the strangers. He knows most. He begs for them to let the men be. Then he offers his daughters to them. She is stunned, They are promised to other men. He now offers them to those filthy pigs! Anger rises in her toward the strangers and her husband.


The two men tell her husband at the coming of dawn the city will be destroyed they led her and her family out and away from the city, her home her friends, her life. They were told not to look back to flee for their lives.


Genesis 19:26
But Lot's wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.


It doesn’t say then she fell on the ground begging for mercy for her friends. I don’t think she looked back as we do when we see a wreck or the way we looked when Oklahoma city and 911 happened. She spiritually looked back at her sin.


How many times do we spiritually look back at our sin? Sin is beautiful. The product of it is ugly. Sin taste good and looks good to us. That’s why we do it. Yes smoking taste bad and you have to keep doing it to enjoy it. The lure of sin is tempting and it is fun to be bad sometimes. If all sin were ugly to us we’d have nothing to worry about Jesus wouldn’t have died for us and we’d be living in the Garden of Eden.


Do you still turn back to your sin longing to live in that destroyed rubble of your life?

THAT"S WHAT I LOVE ABOUT SUNDAYS

The alarm played That’s what I Love About Sundays at 7:01 am Sunday morning. Not 7:00 because it’s to regimented for me. I pushed the snooze putting Craig Morgan on hold for six minutes. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and tried to relax for the next six, when Raymond’s in his Sunday best. It’s cold and wet outside. Don’t get me wrong it’s a blessing the burn ban has lifted for now. Not today just let me stay home and sleep next to the man I love, I think as I close my eyes.

• 
  I have no choice I had to brave the cold tile and get ready for several reasons.
• 
  My children are devastate when they don’t go to church. They will actually try to fake being well to go.
• 
  I was expected to be in the sound booth.
• 
  I need to hear the word of God.

It’s not just the cold that is making me want to stay. There is a very large elephant in our church. It has been fed way too much and is continuing to grow.

While I sat putting on my make up I start to speak with my husband. He has different views than I do and we have no trouble saying how we feel. So I’m putting my make up on and doing my hair while we talked about the elephant. Sometimes it’s hard knowing things. Why can’t I be a pew sitting woman, happy to just relax and soak it in? When did I stop doing that? I wonder. This morning we are in agreement something needs to be done about the elephant.
I know that I could be just a bit tired of the place. We’ve changed a zillion light bulbs. No they didn’t all burn out at once, when you have a lift and the scaffolding you change them all. We still had a few things to finish up Saturday. When we arrived we were greeted with a much needed hug, a real on the one where the huger doesn’t let go for awhile and you soak in every second of it. She also shared her concerns.

So there I was in the bathroom getting ready Sunday and I started to vent about the darn elephant.

Aaarrrggg. . . . Just talk about it! I was sure that I was getting loud because I sounded loud to myself. The frustrating thing is that none will be able to sit down and dialog until the big event is over. That thing has it’s own elephant. And until it’s over and everyone has decompressed the pachyderms are free to roam about eating and growing.

So here it is Sunday and for the first time I’m worried about church. I love that place it feels like home to me and my family. I don’t want to even think about changes.

Let it go and get dressed I tell myself .

My daughter brings a ray of sunshine. She is dressed and ready to go. Brushed and fluffed. No sending her back up the steps to change. Thank you Lord.

I wonder why they have painted the darn elephant pink.

We after going back into the house for a left item, no son one pare of pants isn’t enough for a week at your grandfather’s . A blessing my father loves my children and my son chooses to spend time with him. Thank you Lord.

They giggle at my joke in the car (sounds of Heaven) and my husband laughs at what I said to him. Humor is wonderful, God gave us that. Thank you Lord.

I was ready to throw my cell phone at the person who called during services. Bad timing clearly thing weren’t going too well. I stopped taking communion when brought, Codepokes post. Now I set it to the side. It brings peace during a hectic time. It’s a God thing. Thank you Lord.

The music was great it feels good to be a part of that. I don’t sing well and fill in the parts I don’t know with my own words. Improve training. He found a way to make me part of it. Thank you Lord.

We had a Baptism. Thank you Lord.

They have put the elephant in the church and we can all see it. It’s big and pink and is just roaming around . Why can’t they just talk openly about it?

We had a visiting minister. His microphone is cutting out and we can’t fix it. It smooths out a bit so I relax and listen to what he brings me. Thank you Lord.

He says "Jesus doesn’t just love you He likes you" What! What! Oh man now. . .AHHHH!
If I were in bed covers pulled up I wouldn’t have heard this. We shouldn’t just love someone we should like them. Okay. . . I love my enemies my fellow men and women . . .like. . . honestly. . . like. . . that’s a stretch. I have to work on that. It has honestly consumed me since he said it. I need to hear it. Thank you Lord.

I am leading the LTC dramas this year. We have a lot of kids and very little time. I have a parent volunteer to help and was able to split the group. I had to write one script. I prayed that God gave me the words and will bless this great group of children. I wrote the script rather quickly. Thank you Lord.

The elephant is large and neon pink and I’m not a keep quiet lady.

I will when the time is right, rope it and ride it into the conference room. God will give me the ability to say look see it now it big pink and is wearing Marti Gras beads, let’s talk about it. Not in my time, my time comes with a quick temper and a loud voice. I’ve yelled about stuff before not realizing how loud I was until the minister’s eyes grew wide. He remained calm and spoke quietly. Thank you Lord

God loves and likes me. WOW! Thank you Lord!

I need to write a script on this.

"When the princes in Israel take the lead,
when the people willingly offer themselves—
praise the LORD!

Judges 5:2




God will give me the words. The kids will learn and enjoy being together.

Beer Can Chicken

I haven't tried this yet but I'm going to.



1 (12-ounce) can beer 1 (3 1/2 to 4 pound) chicken 2 tablespoons Basic Barbecue Rub, recipe follows 2 cups Cola Barbecue Sauce, for serving, recipe follows 3 to 4 handfuls apple or hickory wood chips, soaked in water for 30 minutes
Pop the tab off the beer can. Using a church key style can opener, make a few more holes in the top of the can. Pour out half the beer into the soaking water of the wood chips. Set the can of beer aside.
Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium. If using a charcoal grill, place a large drip pan in the center. If using a gas grill, place all the wood chips in the smoker box or in a smoker pouch and preheat the grill to high until you see smoke, then reduce the heat to medium.
Remove the packet of giblets from the body cavity of the chicken and set aside for another use. Remove and discard the fat just inside the body and neck cavities. Rinse the chicken, inside and out, under cold running water, drain, and blot dry inside and out with paper towels. Sprinkle 2 teaspoons of the rub inside the body and neck cavities of the chicken. Rub the bird all over on the outside with 2 teaspoons of the rub. If you have the patience, you can put some of the rub under the skin being careful not to tear it.
Spoon the remaining 2 teaspoons of rub through the holes into the beer in the can. Don't worry if it foams up, this is normal. Insert the beer can into the body cavity of the chicken and spread out the legs to form a sort of tripod. Tuck the wing tips behind the chicken's back.
When ready to cook, if using a charcoal grill, toss all the wood chips on the coals. Stand the chicken up in the center of the hot grate, over the drip pan and away from the heat. Cover the grill and cook the chicken until the skin is a dark golden brown and very crisp and the meat is cooked to an internal temperature of 180 degrees, about 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours. If using a charcoal grill, you'll need to add 12 fresh coals per side after 1 hour.
Using tongs, carefully transfer the chicken in its upright position on the beer can to a platter and present it to your guests. Let rest 5 minutes, and then carefully remove the chicken from the beer can. Take care not to spill the hot beer or otherwise burn yourself. Quarter or carve the chicken and serve with the Cola Barbeque Sauce.
Basic Barbecue Rub: 1/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar 1/4 cup sweet paprika 3 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper 3 tablespoons kosher or sea salt 1 tablespoon hickory salt 2 teaspoons garlic powder 2 teaspoons onion powder 2 teaspoons celery seeds 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Combine all the ingredients in a mixing bowl and stir to blend together. Store the rub in an airtight jar away from heat or light. It will keep for at least 6 months.
Cola Barbecue Sauce: 1 cup cola (recommended: Coca-Cola) 1 cup ketchup 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce 1 teaspoon liquid smoke 3 tablespoon steak sauce (recommended: A-1 Steak Sauce) 1 teaspoon onion flakes 1 teaspoon garlic flakes 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Combine all the ingredients in a heavy non-reactive saucepan and gradually bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce the heat slightly to obtain a gentle simmer. Simmer the sauce until reduced by 1/4, about 6 to 8 minutes. Use right away or transfer to a large jar, cool to room temperature, cover, and refrigerate. The sauce will keep for several months.
Cook's Note: You can also barbecue a chicken on a can of cola, lemon-lime soda, or root beer.

Going Home

It’s been a few years since this happened yet this will stay with me forever.
I had nominated two people for an award, I was sitting at the banquet waiting for them. When they arrived, one leaned over and said you know what happened to *******and *******? They were mother and daughter. My friend was younger than me, and her daughter was my daughter’s age. We were looking forward to seeing them in school together. It was to be a great year for the girls starting school knowing each other. The news stunned me, how could a kid drive so fast that he would hit them head on killing the girls and leaving her son’s body devastated?

I sat in my car wondering how I could go in. Why Lord? I can’t understand it? Why a woman who always smiled? (Not the fake smile the I KNOW GOD AND IT SHINES FROM ME smile)

A woman when I would walk out of that school discouraged over something would listen and smile. She’d say it will work out or something positive. I never thought she’s so fake or goody for her. She was the real deal.

So there I was in my car and I’m thinking I just don’t understand. What about this fall the children walking into class without her?

I’ve had this Sara Groves cd for a while and listened to it may times I just hadn’t heard this song until right before I got out of my car. I honestly heard it for the very first time. Where was this song? Why hadn’t I heard this before?

I sat listening to her husband ask for prayers for his son and the young man who killed his wife and daughter.
I can honestly say I don’t think I could do that. I went home and told my husband he shook his head he couldn’t. I know that God wants us to. I just don’t know that I could do it. They can and have forgiven him.

They went home.

God explained it to me.

Artist: Sara Groves Song: Going home Album: Conversations

I've been feeling kind of restless

I've been feeling out of place

I can hear a distant singing

A song that I can't write

And it echoes of what I'm always trying to say

There's a feeling I can't capture

It's always just a prayer away

I want to know the ending

Things hoped for but not seen

But I guess that's the point of hoping anyway

Of going home, I'll meet you at the table

Going home, I'll meet you in the air

And you are never too young to think about it

Oh, I cannot wait to be home

I'm confined by my senses To really know what you are like

You are more than I can fathom

And more than I can guess

And more than I can see with you in sight

But I have felt you with my spirit

I have felt you fill this room

And this is just an invitation

Just a sample of the whole

And I cannot wait to be going home

Going home, I'll meet you at the table

Going home, I'll meet you in the air

And you are never too young to think about it

Oh, I cannot wait to be going, to be going home

Face to face, how can it be

Face to face, how can it be

Face to face, how can it be

Cuz this is just an invitation Just a sample of the whole And I cannot wait to be going home

BIG vs SMALL

. . . and yet He chooses to paint our world.

It could be that you’ve invited your friends or folks you don’t actually know to your home. You start the grill, toss a flat bread on it and hold a Sunday service in your back yard. Grape juice and grilled bread before dinner. Let’s take the time to celebrate Jesus giving His life for us. Children are running about giggling and swinging. (Sounds that Heaven hears) Someone quiets them with a story about Miriam. It’s good to have someone who can keep the attention of the children one parent says. She wanted to go to New York and be a stage actress at one time. God chose differently, Her husband says with a smile as he watches her lean in and say "Mother he is so beautiful surely He won’t let him die"
"Well know" someone says "shall we get started? What will we talk about tonight?"
"I honestly don’t care I’ve had such a long week." One guy says.
"It’s Sunday, Monday will start us over" someone teases.
Bob interrupts, one of the neighbors needs some help this week with her sink, I was thinking that we might check to be sure she’s set for the summer. Several men agree to help. It’s good that Bob and his family were able to keep the relationships that they had with some of the other members of the church that they left. They sadly lost some who just didn’t understand why they went. Milly and her husband come when they can, the children go to their grandfather’s on Sundays, her husband is always willing to roll up his sleeves and help with the handy man work and talk about God, he’s new to the word being raised in a C church. Greg and his family joyfully join the group, she can cook and he can talk. And so on . . .

Amy sits quietly wondering if her jell-O salad was good, will they like it? I should find a bigger church this isn’t for me. How do I stop coming? I’ll be working at the store and Bob will come bouncing in with that smile, it’s a great one, it’s the reason I said yes , He’ll come in and ask and I’ll say I . . . what can I say? I’ll tell him I have stuff going on. I’ll lie about going to a church. There’s my ticket to he**. No. I’ll just say I was looking for something different. I was raised COC on my mom’s side and SG on my dad’s and my ex was CC. Man, I don’t even know where to start looking. I want a pew and a song book and I want to walk in and sit for a while alone. I want to soak it in and decide. No, hear God’s word.
Bob had, had it with the big corporate churches they had meeting about the meetings they split hairs over and over again. He was as involved as you could be, he devoted a large amount of time to that place only to have his ideas shot down. I passed the minister in the hall, did he stop to speak to me? No. Why? Could be because I’m one of the eight hundred people he doesn’t know. What are my kids learning? Where are my kids? Every Sunday my wife kisses me goodbye and goes to her class, it sounds interesting a study of the Christian woman’s self-esteem. She escorts the youngest to her room and the oldest ran away to class the moment we sort of stopped the car. I hate going over to that hallway the music is loud and the smells are odd and to be honest some of the kids look like junkies. I know I sound like a bad person saying that but you’d agree, I’m sure. I spoke to Milly about that side of the building she smiled and said "Where do you need to be if you want change?" At home spending time with my family is what I wanted to say to her. I work a lot I’m gone some nights and my son has grown up way too fast at times and not fast enough others. I guess I need to be involved except that I also have to be in a meeting about something someone said so I can’t be in that loud mess. Bob sat listening to what was said and how to stop the gossip and drifted off into thought HOME . . . HOME . . . HOME. I want to sit with people and have adult conversations, I want to say what I feel when I need to say it and have responses back. I don’t even care if they agree with me in fact sometimes, I’m wrong. (Don’t tell the wife and kids) I want to hear God’s word!
I have over and over again heard the argument about the size of the church building. I’ve never felt that it mattered. Large or small He knows it all.
I attend a rather large church when the a capella singing is going on my heart feels full. When I hear our minister weave the story I hear His word. I have relationships with several families. No, I don’t attend small groups. I don’t have the time. Okay I have it. It’s just that it would be one more thing to go to. Monday-meeting, Tuesday-swim, Wednesday-church, and so on . . .
I also felt His word sitting in my apartment with my friends reading the Bible and talking about Him.
We all MUST find our way and place.
If it’s grilling and chilling with our neighbors and the girl from the hardware store or sitting in the pew next to her holding a song book it pleases God.

I Sing Because I'm Happy

I love this song. I heard it really heard it for the first time several years ago when at an event. A beautiful woman asked if she could sing. I have never heard it sung so beautifully.

Early in the spring of 1905, my hus­band and I were so­journ­ing in El­mi­ra, New York. We con­tract­ed a deep friend­ship for a cou­ple by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Doo­lit­tle—true saints of God. Mrs. Doo­lit­tle had been bed­rid­den for nigh twen­ty years. Her hus­band was an in­cur­a­ble crip­ple who had to pro­pel him­self to and from his bus­i­ness in a wheel chair. De­spite their af­flict­ions, they lived hap­py Christ­ian lives, bring­ing in­spir­a­tion and com­fort to all who knew them. One day while we were vi­sit­ing with the Doo­lit­tles, my hus­band com­ment­ed on their bright hope­ful­ness and asked them for the se­cret of it. Mrs. Doo­lit­tle’s re­ply was sim­ple: “His eye is on the spar­row, and I know He watch­es me.” The beau­ty of this sim­ple ex­press­ion of bound­less faith gripped the hearts and fired the imag­in­a­tion of Dr. Mar­tin and me. The hymn “His Eye Is on the Spar­row” was the out­come of that ex­per­i­ence.
Civilla Martin

The next day she mailed the po­em to Charles Gab­ri­el, who sup­plied the mu­sic. Sing­er Ethel Wa­ters so loved this song that she used its name as the ti­tle for her au­to­bi­og­ra­phy.

HIS EYE ON THE SPARROW

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I sing because I’m happy,I sing because I’m free,For His eye is on the sparrow,And I know He watches me.
“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear,And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

This is an amazing thing that the Lord has made.

Some nights my prayers feel like I’m listening to a Ken Nordin radio show.

The color is light yellow green!

Mon 13 Mar 2006

Some nights my prayers feel like I’m listening to a Ken Nordin radio show.

http://www.wordjazz.com/

I’ll be in bed talking to God then a noise will interrupt me, and I’ll wonder what it was . . .
Is it the children? No. . . . Where was I? Praying, that’s right praying. Jim is snoring, . . .That noise again . . . Is it the dog? No . . . Here we go . . . Lord please . . . My husband had garlic for dinner, I’ll roll away from that odor. There goes the dryer. I need to fold those now so they don’t wrinkle. Does my son have clean jeans? That’s it now focus! I’ll yell in my head. Lord please forgive me for my lack of focus. I know that you want me to keep my . . . Was that the toilet flushing? Is someone sick? Lord Please forgive me of my sins . . . Did my son pack all of his stuff for school? Ah hh . . . Why can’t I relax?
I need to sit in front of my Bible open it and pray that God puts the scriptures in my brain so that on those garlic laced, toilet flushing, dog growling, dryer buzzing nights I can Be Still And Know That He Is God. I whisper to myself just relax God is waiting for you to relax and talk to Him. I try again. Lord please keep my children safe at school . . . and so on.
Sometimes I have to admit I end up falling asleep before I have even finished my chat on what I want and /or need.. Some days I realize I haven’t taken the time to talk to God. I love the Sara Groves song “How Is It Between Us?” It’s not that I’ve forgotten Him. It’s that I have forgotten to go to Him today. No, I don’t believe it’s the same thing. I believe it’s us not stopping, not being still, us being Ken Nordinish, Music playing, someone talking, more music a different tune, water, more people talking someone whispering all at the same time.

And standing with a smile and incredible smile is GOD being still and waiting for us to be still and talk to Him.






Artist: Sara GrovesSong: How it is between usAlbum: Conversations

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed,the wrong side of the room,the wrong side of the world.Can’t put my finger on the mood.It’s not melancholy, anger or the blues.I love my husband, my house, my job.Couldn’t be any better,and really what else is there?Then I realize I’m forgetting God,and that’s the root of all my misery.Lord, first of all, how is it between you and me?. Chorus: How is it between us? How is it between us?When did I talk to you last,and what has happened since?How is it between us? How is it between us?When did I talk to you last, and what has happened?
. When I wake up I am on my way,reinventing the wheel and saving the day.I have learned this lesson a thousand times,I am the branch, and you are the vine.Apart from you we are mice and men,with our fancy dreams of grandeur and no way to get there.Oh I can think about you now and then,or I can make a mark on eternity.Lord first of all, how is it, between you and me?. Chorus .So let the wicked prosper, let the oceans roar,let the mountains crumble, and fall into the sea.There’s something more important weighing on my mind.Lord first of all, how is it between you and me?