SelahV Today by hariette petersen

FAVORITE PHOTO

A few days ago I set 3 year-old Kinsey loose to take some pictures with my camera.  This is my favorite.  I absolutely love it!  Thanks, Kinsey!   Total relaxation.  Completely unguarded.  His eyes filled with genuine love and happiness.  He adores you, Kinsey.  Can you tell?

Then there is the one of her older sister, Haylee.  Haylee's expression is priceless.  Waiting her turn at the camera is not her favorite thing to do.  Can you tell?=>   

BOUNDS OF LIBERTY, Where Are They In Christian Conversation?

 We all have rights.  I've heard a lot of chatter lately on the rights we have as American citizens.  The right to bear arms, the right to worship as we please, the right to reasonable expectation of privacy.  To me, no other personal right is so scarred and battered as the freedom of speech--the First Amendment.  With that heralded freedom, Americans have ripped, stomped, and burned the American flag.  Some have donned white hooded robes and marched down the Jewish community of Skokie, Illinois brandishing swastikas.  Many have stood in front of abortion clinics screaming, praying and begging women to let their babies live.  In turn, they are reviled and harrassed.

The freedom of speech is one of the most abused freedoms we Americans have.  Yet, to censor any speech, say some, would open the door to censor all.  As society tolerates more and more as simply exercising one's liberty to speak freely, many find it necessary to cover the ears and eyes of their children.  More and more Christians have had to accept foul and demeaning language in workplaces and public events.

As an internet blogger, I often have occasion to scratch my head in wonder at the critical words, condemnation, and impugning of another Christian brother or sister--all in the name of reproving, admonishing, or even bringing to light another's sin and call for repentance.  It is sad.  But sadder still, is the continual flow of negative rhetoric aimed at discrediting another's words, viewpoint, or beliefs.  As Christians we are held to a higher standard--but when does one Christian's failings, flaws and sins grant others to critique, judge and condemn?  Especially publicly--without restraint, without one iota of thought to the damage it does to their testimony (or another's), as an ambassador of Christ? as a minister of the gospel?  as a brother or sister?  What part of our own flesh is enticed to repeatedly fling accusations and taunts?

Dear Jesus, break our hearts.  Show us the error of our own ways.  Press upon our hearts the need to pray for our brothers and sisters of faith.  Help us be ever mindful that we do not speak or write in vacumns or private closets.  As we rejoice in our "considerable liberties" bestowed upon us by Your grace through Jesus Christ, help us "do so in the context of understanding of [our] mission on the earth".  selahV

"Ambassadors On Mission", By Dan R. Crawford, Book Review

I found it embattling to review this book.  Should I be surprised since it is dealing with spiritual warfare?

The author, Dr. Dan Crawford, shares how Christians are "first and foremost" called as ambassadors for Christ--not warriors against Satanic forces of evil in this world.  Yet the first chapter is riddled with examples of personal attacks Dr. Crawford encounters as he attempts to be an ambassador on mission.  Encounters that almost rebuff his own argument that we are not warriors, that warfare is not ours.  Dr. Crawford challenges that situations such as these are simply peripheral to the main objective of the Christian life--our priority purpose--to pray and to proclaim.  The author, indeed, believes spiritual warfare is real--that the devil does play a role in things happening to people on earth.  But, contrary to many evangelicals beliefs, Christians are still called to be ambassadors, not warriors. 

Upon receiving this little 119-page volume from the publisher, Hannibal Books, I feel like I literally fought to read it from cover to cover.  I am no speed reader, but normally, a book of this size I conclude within four hours.  Not so with this one.  Why?  Because I had multiple dozens of interruptions (mini-attacks), as I tried to read it.  To do it justice and be honest in a review, I needed to do more than simply read it like a daily newspaper.  But the interruptions robbed me of my train of thought as I dove into the familiar passages from Ephesians Chapter 6 that Dr. Crawford included to emphasize what Christians need to be mindful of when carrying out their commission as Christ's ambassadors.  Repeatedly, I had to go back and re-read portions to find the truths he shared.  This experience proved, to me, that as I go about my life to proclaim Christ that, Satan, indeed, sets his minions loose to keep a Christian from keeping commitments, and following through on prayer.  I make no claims that if you should read Ambassadors On Mission, The Priority Of Prayer and Proclamation that you will have a similar experience.  I am simply relating mine.

Why would it be so difficult to read a book declaring the need for prayer and proclamation of a Christian's life?  I can only guess it would be the same thing any time Satan does anything to thwart the forward motion of my life as a Christian.   

Dr. Crawford states "...Christians are not primarily warriors by nature, but ambassadors on mission.  Warriors fight and defend their country--often in other countries.  Ambassadors represent their king in another kingdom.  Warriors are military.  Ambassadors are diplomatic.  Nevertheless, ambassadors, while representing their king, become engaged in warfare."

I submit that I was "engaged" as I read this book.  I had personal attacks against friends I love, upon my family, and my health.  You might say, fiddley dee--it's just a book.  Fine.  Don't read it.  But for those of you who need an extra dose of what God has already done through His Son, and what He continues to do through His Word and Spirit, whip on over to the website below and order yourself a copy of Ambassadors On Mission, The Priority of Prayer and Proclamation.

~~Paul deals with his critics this way, We may "walk in the flesh" but "we do not war according to the flesh".  2 Corinthians 10:3  This book reveals once again that our strength is in the Lord, in the sustaining power in His might.  We've nothing to fear and have everything we need to equip us in every battle we face.

At the end of each chapter, Dr. Crawford writes questions for reflection and discussion.  This would make a great book for Discipleship Training or Small Groups.  With or without a group, it's worth reading--even if you have to do it several times.

TO ORDER A COPY CLICK HERE.

Dr. Dan R. Crawford is senior professor of evangelism and missions, chair of prayer, emeritus, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, Fort Worth, TX., and author/compiler of 18 books including God's Formula for Genuine Happiness, and Mud Hen in a Peacock Parade.

Dr. Crawford received degrees from Howard Payne University and Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Texas. In Texas, he has been the pastor of multiple churches, the director of three collegiate Baptist student ministries, and the head of the Bible department at two universities. In Oklahoma, he was the interim pastor of First Baptist Church in Lawton. He has also served as a national evangelism consultant with the North American Mission Board in Atlanta.  He and his wife, Joanne, are retired and living in Forth Worth, Texas.

[Special thanks to Jennifer Nelson for requesting a review and Hannibal Books for sending me a complimentary copy.] 

PLEASE, PLEASE PRAY

My dear friend, Nina, who flew from Kentucky to Oklahoma the day after my son died to be with me has a prayer request.  I share this with you all because I know I can count on you to pray.  She found out this week that her 2 year-old great-grandson has lymphoma.  Today they found out what kind of cancer.  She wrote:

"We did not get good news. Jaden has Burkitt lymphoma which is a rare form of lymph cancer. He is in stage 4 and it did show up in his bone marrow test which means it is in his bones. He will start a chemo regimen tomorrow which will last at least 4 weeks. A spinal tap will be done every 2 days to check progress of treatment. It will be a long hard fight. To see him now you would not think anything is wrong. He looks like a normal healthy 2 year old. We are devastated as a family. Please continue your prayers."

I truly covet your prayers.  Please put Jaden on your prayer lists at church.  Bathe his family in prayer.  If you see a toddler, lift a prayer for Jaden.  If you change a diaper, lift a prayer for his comfort through all the chemo treatments.  When your toddler writes on a wall, spills something on the floor, throws a temper tantrum or wipes his runny nose on his sleeve, please remember Jaden and pray for him.  Pray for his mom, Megan.  Thanks so much.  selahV

SOME THINGS I'VE SAID

Ever think about everything you "facebook" and "tweet" in any given day?  Ever wonder what good it does?  I have.  I read somewhere that even when we delete our messages, that they aren't really gone; some tech-whizz can still retrieve them.  Would you want everything you've ever said to be retrieved like that?  Sheesh...I wouldn't.

Today I sit here thinking about those quick off-the-cuff remarks one says that seem to just roll off your tongue without any directive from one's brain.  Dumb stuff.  Goofy stuff.  Sarcastic stuff.  I am as guilty as anyone for blurting out something that seems to fit a niche of conversation rather than sharing a spirit-controlled, thought-filled response.  I work on it all the time--thinking better thoughts--so when I do speak, my words might have some edifying power.  All too often I talk before I think.  And some of what I speak needs to be filtered like the water in my faucet.

I practice this quite often in blogland.  So many things could be said that I've kept to myself.  On occasion I have written a comment, then simply left the site without submitting the comment.  That's happened a lot recently and I got to thinking.  If what I am reading is provoking thoughts in me that are better left unsaid, maybe what I am reading is better left unread.  How about you?  Ever read things you wish you hadn't because, having read them, you form an opinion that is less than seemly towards another brother or sister in Christ?  Our minds are not computers.  We do not have access to a "delete" button in our brain.  Short of severing our brain-stems, or pumping sodium pentathol into our spinal column, we must work at getting rid of the junk that is piling up within the gray matter of our skulls. 

We start by confessing with our mouth to the Lord.  We pray for clean minds and clean hearts.  Then we forget it.  What!? say you.  How can I just forget it?  It's stuck to my brain.  Well, once you get rid of one thought, you have to replace it with a good thought.  And the more good thoughts you replace it with, the less room there is for a bad thought.  That's why I think Paul told us to think on that which is pure and good.  If we are thinking good, then we won't be thinking bad.  Simple in theory.  Difficult at times in practice.  But practice we must, don't you think?  selahV

Disciples can be young folks, too.

In my weekly newspaper column I chatted a bit about last weekend and touched on some of the highlights of my grandchildren at Disciple Now Weekend at our church.  Thought you might like to read it on my COMMON MATTERS site.  So for an A-Rated Weekend and R-Rated Conversations go HERE.

ACCUSERS OF THE BRETHREN

Taunting.  Hounding.  Continual badgering.  Accusations.  Backbiting.  Tale-bearing.  Whisperings. Tweetings. Pride.  Discord.

Until Christ returns for His Bride, the blood-bought, fully justified, righteously robed, and reconciled children of God, will have the "accuser of the brethren" trying to turn them against one another.  He rules this earth and walks around like a roaring lion seeking those he may devour.  Why do Christians twist scripture to rationalize their actions and words?  Why do Christians insist on being used of the devil to meet his objectives?  Why do Christians leave their armor in their prayer closets and walk around in the world without protection?  With their bare backs exposed for others to stab?

Lord, cleanse your Bride.  She is playing the harlot as she contends with herself and does not stand true to her betrothal to You--to let the world know she loves You and You alone--that all that matters in this world is the wedding to come.  Let her renew her commitment to pass out invitations to that all-important glorious day.  Her gown is soiled, Lord.  Some beads are broken, there are rips in her hemline.  Please, dear Father, send Your Spirit into the hearts of your children and let them come together to mend and repair that which You have paid for by your blood before the trumpet sounds and there is no more time to fill the lamps for Your entrance.  selahV

I Know What I Know

And no one can change that.  Nothing can rip it from my heart, soul and mind.  I own that knowledge.  I am a child of God.  What glorious understanding and peace I am afforded.  To know without a shadow of doubt that should I die tonight, I am in the arms of my Father in heaven.  I get to stand in the presence of my Savior, and bow down and worship His holy name.

Sometimes it is good to go back to the basics of the born-again life and recall this truth as a Christian.  "This joy that I have, the world didn't give it to me.  The world didn't give it, and the world can't take it away."   

"The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God."  Romans 8:16

Does your spirit bear witness to this knowledge, too?  "Turn your eyes upon Jesus.  Look full in His wonderful face.  And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in light of His glory and grace." selahV

What Would You Do If A Gunman Entered...?

...your church sanctuary and opened fire as you met to worship the Lord?

I'm in process of reading for a review, Ambassadors On Mission, The Priority of Prayer and Proclamation.  The author, Dan R. Crawford, touches on what we can and cannot do in such a situation.  But more importantly, Crawford examines what God does in such dire situations and other such battles we may face on a much smaller scale.   

Just wanted you to know I'm still here, in case you were wondering.  selahV 

Great Pyrenes (Mix) Puppies

 

  Doncha think we're cute as can be?  selahV

WHEN TIME AND LIFE CANNOT BE MANAGED

Life has it's own course.  Try as we might to manage the time we have in life, we can't.  That is the flat-out truth of the matter.

Ever kept track of what you've done for any given time?  When my husband was studying to be a minister, one of his professors had him do a time-management log.  He had to literally account for every minute of his day for a solid week.  Sleep, eat, leisure, work, study, bathroom breaks.  Every single thing had to be logged in and tallied up to a bottom line of 24/7.  It was the most annoying thing he's ever done, but it was an exercise in how to maintain a more productive life.  It helped him recognize areas where he wasted time.

Talk about a waste of time:

Today I spent one and a half hours on the telephone trying to order a copy of my birth certificate.  (I had already sent the money and ordered it via snail-mail over two months ago, but Vital Records had not sent it.)  So it is crunch time.  I need that certificate ASAP.  So I get on the phone to order it.  All but 5 minutes of that hour and a half were spent listening to annoying jazz music and an occasional voice recording which screeched, "your call is important to us, yada, yada, yada."  At one point a real live lady came on, and I told her my problem and she gave me another telephone number to call.  When I asked her to repeat the number, she got angry and shouted the number at me, then hung up.  Looks like people who are paid to talk, don't like to talk.  (Maybe they ought to get a job walking dogs?)

I am not exaggerating about how long I was on the phone, either.  My cell phone battery died, and I had to hang up and start the process of waiting all over again on my land-line phone.  On the second call, I waited 50 minutes.  Before you comment and inform me that I can get a birth certificate online, let me tell you, no I couldn't.  The drop-down menu for the city in which I was born, didn't have my city listed.  I couldn't override it any way shape or form.  Had to call the VitaChek folks and do the whole thing via telephone.  Now, here's the kicker.  The reason my certificate had not been mailed from my state already with the money order I sent in, was because I had not included my photo ID.  The VitaChek folks didn't even need a photo identification.  They don't even need it to send me one.  Bureaucracy!  Go figure!

So, I'm thinking through this process and realize how ridiculous it is to try and maintain a productive schedule in one's life.  What should have taken 5 minutes, took nearly 4 hours, if you include the time it took me to send the first request and take it to the post office.  It cost me nearly 8 times as much to get it done, too. (Who knows what happened to my 12-dollar money order?)  Folks, we are not the captains of our own ships.  We do not always have control over our lives.  We are most often at the mercy of others.  In fact, as far as this expensive certificate is concerned, I can't even get my money back if the state I was born in can't process the information they have been given.  It's gone.  $72.05.  Caput!  Poof!  And, I will have to go back to square one.  That thought is about as productive to me right now, as the possibility that it could occur.  Lord, help me.  I feel so abused!  selahV

This Little Heart of Mine

Early last December I purchased the heart in this picture as a gift for a friend.  It just seemed appropriate at the moment.  One of those "she would like this" moments.  Then I got it home.  I wondered.  What in the world would she want with this?  It was cute, sure.  It had roses on it and I know she likes roses.  But she's not one to collect a bunch of fru-fru things to hang around her house and collect dust.  Or was she?  Hmmmmn.  I tried to remember. I recalled conversations we had recently about all the junk she and I wanted to get rid of in our homes.  This particular heart might not be considered junk.  I think it would make a pretty neat paperweight.  But wait.  My friend doesn't work in an office; she's a homemaker like me.  Oh, fiddle.  Why did I buy that silly decoupaged piece of heart-shaped stone?  I placed it on my counter.  It sat there for weeks....uh, months.  Every time I looked at it I would think of my friend.  And I'd giggle to myself.  What a goof-ball I am.  So impulsive.

One particular day, Haylee Jae was visiting, and she saw the heart on the counter.  She picked it up and asked, "Grama, what is this?"

"It's a heart."

"Whose heart is it?"  Just like a 5 year-old.  Laying claim right away.

"Why, it's mine."

"But what is it for?"

"Uh, to look at.  I bought it for my friend.  Don't you think it is pretty?"

"Unh huh.  It's heavy.  I like the roses on it."  End of conversation.  It continued to sit on my kitchen counter.

I purchased that silly heart in a moment of giddy delight.  I pushed the heart aside and let all the ooey gooey feelings I had, rest upon my counter.  Days went by and I nudged that little heart around on the counter when it needed cleaning.  As mundane activities demanded attention, I ignored that little heart.  I set it atop some bills I didn't want to go flying off the counter.  It got buried beneath another stack of coupons I would get to sometime.  It definitely fit the category of needless items hanging around the house that my friend and I were trying to get rid of.  I got tired of shoving it around when trying to clear the counter of the dishes, so I placed it on my wooden barrel in the living room.  There!  It looked at home on my make-shift country side table. 

Then came February.  The Valentine month!  I thought, I know.  I will put it with my grouping of red candles and it will look pretty as a centerpiece on my dining room table.  Haylee came to visit again and saw it amongst the candles.  She picked it up, and said, "Grama, when are you going to send your heart to your friend?" 

That's when it hit me.  That silly heart I'd purchased was symbolic of the love I have for my friend.  When I saw it in the store it grabbed my heart and I thought what a nice gift this would make.  Instead of acting upon my impulse and sharing my thoughts with my friend about the heart, I kept it to myself.  I ignored the warm feelings it brought to me.  I pushed it aside and went on about business as usual.  Isn't that how we do one another at times?  We have a great moment happen in our life and need to share it and when we do, the person ignores the joy in our voice?  We have great intentions and then shelve them because we rationalize them out of motion?  That's me.  The great procrastinator.

After Haylee left that day, I placed the heart in a box I was preparing to send my friend.  Last week, along with the various items I'd been collecting, I sent my heart to her.  At times my heart may seem as heavy and cold as this rose-covered stone.  It happens to all of us.  It's only when we share our hearts with another and the hearts are received with love, that hearts become lighter and warmth is restored.  Perhaps my friend will feel all the giddiness I feel in our relationship with this little heart of mine.  selahV

IMPRINTS OF LOVE ON MY MIND

An imprint.  A sign, an indelible mark of something impressed upon another thing.  Imprints tell us lots of things.  Here we have a shovel left on the ground from where I'd dug up some iris bulbs for a friend I have.  I thought she could probably get them put in her flower bed early enough to bloom for Spring.  I hope so.  The shovel reminded me that I had put the bulbs in my car and they needed to go in a box and to the post office so they'd make it to her in time for Valentine's Day.  She got them yesterday.  How exciting to know they arrived in time.  Now, next Spring and for years to come, those irises will bloom, and multiply and remind her of the love I have for her. Love does the unexpected.

I know she didn't expect them.

Love sees Spring in the dead of Winter.  Love remembers good things another does.  So many things this friend has done for me.  She's often sent me little gifts in the mail and kept on giving when I, in my neglect, procrastinated and did not send what the Lord had laid on my heart to send her.  But I remember all those things she's done for me, even though I fail to follow through on my intentions.  Love keeps count of all the kindness and generosity it receives.

Sometimes folks say things they wish they had kept to themselves.  Sometimes they leave imprints in another's heart with impressions they wish they could erase, or recall.  Sometimes those impressions must be dug up, unearthed, and replaced with new soil, new seeds of love.  And when a person is blessed with love, they know love forgets when it is wronged.  Love is conscious of another's desires and delights in meeting those desires and sacrifices its own.

Last October my grandsons came over to clean up our back yard and haul stuff to the dump.    They grabbed old buckets, a broken wheelbarrow, and wicker baskets that had long over-stayed their welcome. My overly eager grandsons just wanted to get the job done. They latched onto the lattice pictured in this photo.  I was sick with the flu-bug, and didn't feel like directing the dismantling of my country-dressed yard.  They saw no purpose for various metal posts sticking in the ground that once supported my heavy sunflowers and 8-foot foxglove plants.  Every item they saw was junk.  Only I had personal attachments to various trellis-work and wrought iron I strategically placed in my flowerbeds.  I rescued my bedframes, then gave up.  I was too weak and feverish to stand guard over all the items I wanted to keep.  It didn't matter.  I knew my husband would rather it "be-gone", anyway.

Three days later I made my way out to the yard to survey the uprooted pieces that survived Fall clean-up.  There sat my lattice.  I wanted to lean it up against my litte metal shed and let vines grow over it this summer so it will make a tent of shade for my granddaughters to use as a play house retreat.  When I snapped the picture in the snow, that lattice reminded me once again of the love imprinted upon my husband's heart for me and my quirks.  He knew my desires; he sacrificed his own desire to have a pristine yard, free of mowing encumberments, and my decorating madness.  Why?  To delight me.  And he succeeded.  Love comes in many forms, is spoken in many languages.  We just need to know how to decipher the signs, and interpret the language.  When we look for the best in others, we will find imprints of love no matter the season.    selahV

Will You Be My Valentine?

Valentine's Day is just around the bend.  And for those who are interested I plan to use one of these three pictures for my Valentine's Day post here at SelahV Today.  I'm gonna let you, my readers, choose which picture I write about.  For the record, I have not written a word about any of the photos.  Yet I have a story to tell with each.  So, it's up to you which I talk about.  Just leave a comment and make your pick.  For larger viewing, just click on the photos.  SCROLL DOWN TO PERUSE MY VALENTINES AND MAKE A CHOICE TODAY.  selahV

  

COMMUNICATION BREAKTHROUGH

Ever have an impasse in communicating?  Ever find yourself totally incoherent to the public at large?  If you're anything like me, you may wonder if your problem is due to all the time you've been spending with children.  Perhaps your vocabulary skills have taken a beating, turned your mind into mush, and your conversations into gibberish.  Needless to say, communication is an art.  With folks who do not want to hear, no amount of paint will a portrait make.  Etchings, maybe--but not a complete picture of two individuals' seeking to talk to one another, instead of pass one another.

Today, I stumbled upon a quote I archived months ago.  I think it may be a part of the reason for an impasse--especially if the object or your imperfection is a close friend and their typical abruptly takes on characteristics that are untypical in your relationship.  Tell ya what, read Cyle's quote; and I'll meet you at its end.

"I listen more, but hear less from people. The reason I hear less from them is because I’m intentionally trying to hear more from God. I find that God speaks to me through many people, people who have many different lines drawn in the sand. I listen to them, but all the time I’m listening for God. He’s the only one who can clarify the lines. So, I spend more and more time trying to understand His Word. I spend more and more time trying to hear Him, not just to listen to Him or them."  Cyle Clayton

So here's my take on times I find myself fruitless to communicate my thoughts to someone I count dear and precious.  They are like my friend Cyle from Louisiana.  They are seeking a higher plain on which to dwell.  They are going where I cannot.  They are resting by waters I cannot still.  They are feasting at a table I cannot set.  They are more interested in what God has to say to them than what I have to say.  And that, my friends, is a good thing.  In fact, it is a communication breakthrough.  Don't you think?

When we give another Christian brother or sister the benefit of the doubt, we draw closer and closer to the heart of God.  If we can't, can there be integrity, at all?  anywhere?  with anyone?  Can loyalty be owned, or trust increased, when one or both give up, or gather fan clubs for support?  I don't know.  I'm just asking.  And who am I to say?  selahV 

YADA, YADA, Yesterday! JUST PICK ME UP TODAY

Life is so unpredictable.  You never know quite what's going to come popping out of the gate throughout a day: a broken furnace, road construction, a jury summons in the mail...

OR...grandkids at your door! 

Yesterday, I had a day of leisure.  Lunch with my friend, Barb.  Back home by four.  Babysitting Haylee and Kinsey (if one could actually call it that), at six o'clock, so their parents and brother could go to church visitation.  I thought about taking the girls to the mall to climb on the giant drum and play tag with the other children.  But most evenings they're wound down from their own day, and find quiet pleasure in working puzzles or coloring pictures. They aren't all that excited about getting dressed up. They'd rather lounge in their jammies and sit on Grampa's lap.  Grampa works all day and loves to kick back at home after work...

...Unless the girls come over.  Baby sitting is kinda like recess for him.

Then his joy is tickling, teasing and playing hide'n'seek.  After a couple of quick rounds of hiding, they usually snuggle with him in his recliner and watch Scooby Doo at 7:30.  He's found a new treat of playing solitaire with Haylee on the tiny computer on-loan from our other granddaughter, Brooklyn.  I am thinking he's really a kid-in-disguise, and all the grand-girls have his number.  Babysitting is kinda like recess for him.  Little did I know that tonight Kinsey would rather climb on Grampa's shoulders than cuddle.  And rather than watch cartoons, she sang "Pants on the Ground" to Grampa using an expandable noisemaker as her microphone.  Her abundance of energy still bubbled when her mom returned to take her home.  Mom was really readyto go home.  Turned out it wasn't her "night" for visitation.  She stayed anyway and made phone calls to absent Sunday School members as her hubby addressed postcards.  Kinsey's desire to use Grampa as her personal slide, and Haylee's desire to finish watching Scooby Doo, collided with their mom's readiness for home sweet home.

Mom wanted to stoke up the fire in the fireplace, finish a few chores before bedtime, and simply regroup.  Her brain was drained.  So was mine--I knew I wouldn't be reading that book I'd planned to review.  We kinda went over some things to do for tomorrow (which is now, today) because the insurance adjuster planned to ring my doorbell at 8 a.m. to inspect the damage our giant Mulberry tree left on our roof and my neighbor's during the ice-storm.  That meant I needed my day-face on before I was use to, (which also meant I'd need to prop open my eyelids with toothpicks).

Nope.  Never know what a day will hold. 

Sometimes life brings damage, other times repair.  Sometimes we find detours, other times direct paths.  Sometimes we're thrown a curve ball, other times a slider.  Whatever life gives us each day, it is a blessing from the Lord.  He has made it.  He has ordained it.  He has purposed it for good to bring about His glory.  We are fortunate to be a part of what our Lord allows, be it Scooby Doo or jury duty or household chores.  Yeah! "This is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it!"  Whether storms threaten, or strife crouches at the door.  Whether lions sleep or lions roar. 

Today is like no other I've ever had before.  Nor you.  Let's pledge to walk with boldness into its light, to greet others with kindness no matter what comes around the corner.  If we seize the day with expectation, and wait upon the Lord, we may just find He'll pick us up and place us squarely on Eagle's wings to fly above the battles in the heavens, and storms of snow and ice on earth.  God bless you abundantly today as you find His grace sufficient to meet each need.  selahV 

DOUBLE PORTIONS

One of my favorite things in the world is a rainbow.  The vision of a double rainbow is an extra helping of hope spread across the sky. It's a blessed reminder of God's promise after a storm.

This photo was taken in Wichita Falls, Texas just after my granddaughter's indoor soccer game was canceled. A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I drove down from Oklahoma to see Brooklyn play, but a torrential downpour caused the ceiling to leak on the court (or field).  The kids were turned away, the game rescheduled.  My disappointed granddaughters kept apologizing to us because we'd driven over an hour to see Brooklyn play.

"It's okay," we assured them (even though we were just as disappointed as they were). "We got to see you and hug you; it was worth it just to do that.  We'll have another day to be together."  A promise.  They knew we loved them; they could depend on that.  Before we left, we got extra hugs and witnessed a double rainbow. The second arch in this rainbow is so faint that we could hardly see it.

Sometimes it's hard to see all the promises of God being fulfilled in our lives.  Sometimes our eyes are so focused on the most brilliant, we fail to notice the smaller joys and blessings.  A safe trip.  A smile.  A hug. A child's love.  Yet from this, I am reminded once more of the promise that no matter what life brings our way, our Lord is the Keeper of every storm.  When we lift our eyes above depending upon Him, He never fails to keep His word.  Whether we see Him or not.  selahV

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1.  

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Gray Areas of Grace

There are times in my life my heart is torn open to allow the gray areas of grace to fill all the undefined spaces.  I stop struggling to see it all, comprehend it all, or be anything more than I can be.  I do not understand a lot of things about God.  Nor do I presume to be nearer to His heart than anyone I know.  Sometimes I see the darker parts of me--I stand beneath the lighted sky hoping to see untouched vibrant colors to illumine my understanding of how to be a rainbow of hope to others.  I think I have an answer, only to discover my snapshot of life, of people, is but a shadow of all the discernment I'd thought I'd seen.

Last week, as the ice began to melt from our winter storm, I took this picture of my pecan trees in the backyard.  I didn't take it with black and white film--nor did I do a photo-shop reverse to have it appear as it does.  I actually was amazed when I downloaded (or uploaded--I never can remember which is which), the picture to my computer and saw how black and white it seemed to be.  Then, as I decided to show you what I saw, I realized what I'd seen so clearly as black and white was not but hues upon the color wheel much closer to gray and charcoal.

That's kind of how I feel right now.  I feel like I am in a world of gray areas.  None clear enough to be understood--no matter how much light I try to bring into my mind's room as I cry out to the Lord.  Nor are any black enough to define what is or isn't.  I'm not a photographer at all.  I like to toy with pictures and simply take photos of what I like to see and think I can use for a blogpost or article.  Many times I do not know how I'll use a photo that I like till much later when I peruse my cache.  I don't really know how a person could change this particular picture to make it whiter, or any clearer.  I don't understand saturation and all that stuff.  But I wouldn't want to toy with this picture to make it brighter or darker.  I find it amazingly calming--like the grace that covers even the gray areas of my life and soul that will someday see through the clouded glass with perfect clarity.  What I see and feel within this picture may not be at all what you see or feel.  But then, how could it?  You aren't me, and I'm not you.  We each are our own special color in the landscape of life that God is painting.  Today...paint me gray and choose your own saturation level of color for my heart.  selahV 

UNEXPECTED PLEASURE

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I'm Reading: "Get Out of That Pit"

Beth Moore calls it a "pit".  A miry, slippery, dank place.  It's not necessarily a literal 20-foot cistern.  It is more of a discouraging, debilitating place of emotional, spiritual imprisonment.  It's a state of mind.  A state in which you find yourself trapped with seemingly no way out. There's three ways to get into a pit:  you're tossed in; you slipped in; or you jumped in.  As I read this book I see a trail of pits I've encountered throughout my life, and I see the way I got out of those pits.  I've been underlining and looking up scriptures.  I've been praying for folks whom I know are in some of the pits she describes.  I'm halfway through the 249 pages and it's already convinced me of a pit I, myself, am squirming to get out of at the moment.  Until I read the book, it wasn't quite as clear as it is right now.

So what am I gonna do about it?  Firstly, I came to the conclusion I'm in it.  Secondly, I decided I don't want to stay here.  Okay, personally, I think that's half the battle--recognizing there is a pit and I am in it.  Now, I'm going to finish the book and see what Beth offers in the way of advice to get out.  I'll try and keep you updated on my progress.

In the meantime, let me suggest if you're struggling with a relationship, to get out of a particular situation, feel weighed down by some outside force, long for a brighter day, then get yourself a copy of Beth Moore's book and begin today to "Get Out Of That Pit" that is controlling your life.  BTW, as much as I've heard about Beth Moore, this is the first time I've ever read one of her books.  So, take that for what it's worth.  selahV

[Special thanks to my friend, Rose, who sent this to me for Christmas because I told her I planned to buy it.  It was a great surprise.]  

SELAHV'S MINISTRY TO CHILDREN, 4 the Light-Hearted

I am signed up for Tony Kummer's newsletter with his MINISTRY TO CHILDREN blogsite.  Last week I watched a video he linked to showing how to make a Heart-pocket for a Sunday School project.  Well, I don't have a children's Sunday School class to teach.  But I have two very eager project-loving granddaughters who flat-out love it when I sit and make something--anything--with them.  So....Wednesday night our electricity went out again due to our ice-storm, and I ended up spending Thursday with the girls.  They don't have electricity either.  But, they do have a fireplace to keep us toasty warm.  While their mother did office-work for her hubby's construction business, (and later ran errands), Haylee, Kinsey and I made heart-pockets.  They turned out really cute and we had a blast making them.  We did a few extra things with ours that the video didn't show, but to see a great step-by-step instructional presentation, just go HERE.   MORE PHOTOS OF OUR CREATIONS BELOW:

 

Kinsey learns to punch holes.  We used the cutouts to decorate her pocket.  Kinsey pats her hearts on hearts to make them stick good with the glue stick she just used.

We stuck magnetic strip to the back of the heart pockets and put them on the fridge.  Now, we will write Bible verses on hearts and stick them inside the pockets.

SUCH FUN when you don't have electricity.  Don't forget to check out Tony's site above... and articles below.

CREATING NEW LIFE CRAFT  /link

All ya need is Coffee Filters, Clothespins, Colored Markers and Kiddos.

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BAPTISTS DETAINED IN HAITI CHARGED WITH KIDNAPPING

Morris Chapman, SBC Executive Committee President, wrote an article requesting prayer for the Baptist detainees in Haiti.  It breaks my heart that this Christian group who wanted to help these children are being slapped with charges of child kidnapping by the Haitian government.  As I read through Dr. Chapman's article in the Baptist Press, I couldn't help but wonder if this terrible situation could have been avoided if the International Mission Board had been involved in their ministry--if only in an advisory capacity--from the beginning.  The SBC has so many people who know the ins and outs of regulations and laws with our Disaster Relief teams and boards, that surely, they could have helped this ministry group from facing such a situation.  See Chapman's article HERE.

May God intervene and have these volunteers released soon.  May His comforting spirit be with them and their families in the United States.  May the children of Haiti find someone to help them through this experience.  selahV

Let Me Love You, Will Ya?

 
Sometimes we wanna love someone whether they like it or not.  We push ourselves upon them and squeeze their necks and crush them with our love till they cry "uncle".  No wonder folks resist us....sometimes.  selahV 

WISTFUL THINKING...

 I guess you could say this is my sign of six more weeks of winter.  selahV   

IT'S NOT SO NUGATORY

It's not a trivial matter.  It's not futile or vain.  It's worth taking time, spending time, and even losing time to do it.  Every single time a person shares the gospel with another person, it is an act of love.  Those moments are valuable, and priceless.  They are filled with eternal consequence.

Oh, that we would grasp its significance every waking moment as we go about our daily schedules, and follow our weekly planners.  selahV