Her Heart

I wrote this some time ago and thought it needed a dusting off to remind me of her and how chosen she was and is. A mother. . .A mother who loved for us and the man that held her hand for us. We are blessed to have Him and them to remind us of the life beyond this.


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).

Not gonna let the apple hit me again

I love the song below and at first I didn’t get why, read the words.

I Move on like a sinner's prayer

Lettin' go like a levee brakes

Walk away as if I don’t care

Learn to shoulder my mistakes

I'm built to fade like your favorite song

Get reckless when there’s no need

Laugh as your stories ramble on

Break my heart, but it won’t bleed

My only friends are pirates

It’s just who I am

I’m better as a memory

Than as your man

Never sure when the truth won’t do

I'm pretty good on a lonely night

I move on the way the storm blows through

I never stay but then again I might

I struggle sometimes to find the words

Always sure until I doubt

Walk a line until it blurs

Build walls too high to clime out

But I'm honest to a fault

It’s just who I am

I'm better as a memory

Than as you man

I see you leaning

You’re bound to fall

I don’t want to be that mistake

I’m just a dreamer

Nothing more

You should know it before it gets too late

'Cause Goodbyes are like a roulette wheel

You never know where they're gonna land

First you’re spinning then your standin' still

Left holdin' A losing hand

One day your gonna find someone

Right away you'll know it’s true

That all of your seekin's done

It’s just a part of the passing through

Right there in that moment

You'll finally understand

That I was better as a memory than as your man

Better as a memory than as your man

By Kenny Chesney

It hit me like a ton of apples the other day as I was singing along. This bad boy is being decent and that is why we girls took a bite of the forbidden fruit! He is telling us what he knew we’d fall for. Not me never ever again . . . I still like the song but I will keep Eve close to me. I wonder if she prayed for her sisters. I wonder if she hoped that no woman would ever trust the serpent and take the bite of forbidden fruit.

I hope a pray that we can walk away from that bad boy no matter how sweet that fruit looks.

Faith Incredible Faith

She was exhausted all the time. The pain was unbearable yet the worst was the shunning. Was it her illness that zapped her energy or the painful loneliness?She spent her days trapped in her home, a home that she had loved at one time it now was the prison walls that held her.She longed to be with people. Hugs, smiles, real smiles, not the passer by who fakes it she could see the pity in their eyes as the walked past her door. She longed to be touched by loving hands.Twelve years, twelve long agenizing years. She had seen all the healers and none of them helped her.

She wondered how much longer. . . . how much?

When she heard the talk of a great healer, of this Jesus, she knew that He was the one. He could heal her. She dressed as not to be recognized. Carefully making her way through the crowd her heart raced. Maybe just to see Him. I could possibly ask Him if I could get close enough. He will heal me she thought with all her heart. Her hand trembled as she reached through the crowd for Him. She touched His robe. Just a touch is all I needed she thought as she felt her body grow stronger.

At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, "Who touched my clothes?""You see the people crowding against you," his disciples answered, "and yet you can ask, 'Who touched me?' "But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."

He knew before He turned who had touched Him, He freed her from the painful bondage of her illness. She was no longer unclean.

I can’t read this without falling in love with her. Her faith amazes me.She had lived in seclusion for twelve years. We all need our quiet moments at times but twelve years of life alone is maddening.

Her only hope must have been that the next painful cure would work until. . .Jesus.

Her Heart

I thought I take a look at this one again. I hope you like it.

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 wanted 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).

She had a dream

Today a friend told me about her dream. She wanted to know what I thought about it.
Here’s the just of it.


She dreamt that she was back at her old church clapping and enjoying the worship. Eventually she was spotted by those she knew and was lovingly received back.


Without giving a lot of information she has been walking away from God with the wrong man and the wrong friends. Now that she has left the man she is longing for another relationship, she now feels lonely when she never had a problem with being alone.


I interpreted the dream as this.


She has missed God and wants Him back. He misses her and wants her back. I explained that sin looks and feels good that’s why we turn to it. But the relationship that she left God for was a false and empty one. The man was a nonbeliever who told her only what she wanted to hear then took from her things that she can’t ever get back. That’s what sin does to us. Sin changes who we are and it changes us forever.


I pointed out that the environment that we work in is hard to be in when you’re young because you want to fit in with those you think are the cool kids. You seek out friends and to be honest not very many of those that I work with are holding Christian values. She’s about to turn 21 and is looking forward to that step. I’m advising her to find a church and go back to God.


When we walk away from God knowing that the things we are doing is a sin is an offence to God, we are blessed that Jesus died so that she and I could walk away and run back to him.

Nick Names

For some reason I’ve always had nick names and such. My family and my friends settle on a name and there it is. I don’t mind because it means that they are comfortable with me enough to call me what they like.


Tonight I was called "The mom of the front end" by one of my bosses, she’s young enough to me my kid. (Front end is the front of the store.) I replied "I’ll not claiming all of ya’ll" I do think it’s an ok title to have. A couple of the gals call me Miss Milly and several of the new girls know me as something different. I abbreviated my name so that it’s easier for me to write in a hurry on receipts so that’s what they call me.


Two of my uncles gave me nick names that I won’t share here. My brother calls me by an odd form of my name, my sister -in-law was worried that it was real and not sure she wanted her little girl to have that name. I’ll bet you breathed a sigh of relief when you found out he was just using a nick name.


Danny Kaye gave me Mil-Gurl I cherish that one.


My mom called me by three different names depending on her mood. At times she listed off my brother’s name then my sister’s name and lastly mine. Then we knew we were in for it. Gee! What did my brother do this time?

My daughter has several nick names and her name is abbreviated in several different ways. She loves it. I even sing a little song using one she always joins in. My son had me drop his nick name years ago, too old I suppose. We do abbreviate his name once in a while.



Do you have any of nick names?

God is with us

Mama is going to have a baby soon. I pray that it is a girl. The fate of our boys is so atrocious. I cannot look into the river and not weep. Mama tells me to hold on to God, she promises that he will deliver us from this place of oppression. She told me that no matter what this baby is that God promises to protect it. She seems so sure.

We’ve hidden him for three months, he’s a joy but every day brings fear of what will happen if we are discovered. I’ve seen others try to hide the little ones, it’s so heart breaking, too difficult to describe. The river is filled with the tears of mothers and fathers. I saw the pain in my mother’s eyes as she prepared a basket, I put my hand on her hand and asked why she was covering it with pitch and tar. I watched as she kissed him then she lovingly place him in the basket. I followed as she went to the Nile and placed it among the reeds along the bank. I watched to see what would happen to him and followed as he drifted away. I believe my heart skipped a beat ever time the basket was jostled. I wanted to dive in to save him. Momma told me that I must stay strong for God is with us.

I watched as the Pharaoh’s daughter instructed a slave to fetch the basket from the water. I slowly went to them as to only be a passer by and not a sister to the little one. This woman with fine clothes, the daughter of such an evil man, felt pity for my brother I saw it in her eyes when she heard him cry and looked in at him. "Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby?" Those words came out of my mouth without a real thought as if God had put them there. "Yes go" she answered . I ran all the way to my mother and out of breath I told her of my brother’s fate. My mother smiled and took my face in her hands "See child God is with us"

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).

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.

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?