SelahV Today by hariette petersen

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

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 

 

IT'S STILL HARD

I didn't have to call.  There was no need for a card.  I didn't have to shop for a gift or wrap a present.  I didn't have to change my schedule or routine.  I didn't have to worry about eating calorie-laden cake to celebrate.  He would have been 38 years old today.

It's been nearly 5 years since that fateful Mother's Day that claimed his 33-plus years of life.  And it's still hard.  It's hard to imagine he's not around.  It's still hard to think I'll never hear his voice on the other end of the phone.  He had an unusual way of interrupting my day at the busiest of times--sometimes he had a problem; most times a joy to share.  It's hard to listen to others complain about all the things they must to do ready themselves for a birthday, the expense, the inconvenience.  I guess what I'm trying to say is be grateful for the moment you have today with a loved one.  A child.  Don't take for granted you will always have tomorrow to celebrate.  You just never know.  Cherish the conversations.  Savor the time with one another.  Let those little aggravations slide for awhile.  And just be happy.  selahV

IS FAMILY HARMONY POSSIBLE?

Think about the most ideal family you know.  What are the characteristics you see in their actions that lead you to that conclusion?  Do they live in harmony?  Is everyone nice to one another?  Loving, kind, generous, and patient?  Do you find yourself longing for a husband as attentive as the other lady's?  A wife as humble and sweet-spirited as your friend's?  Children as obedient as another family?

I grew up in, what "experts" call, a dysfunctional home.  Mother abandoned my two elder brothers, myself, and Daddy, when I was just 3 years old.  Daddy married my step-mother when I was 5 and a half.  She brought two boys into the marriage from two previous marriages of her own.  Life was a hodge-podge.  It was hardly "ideal".  I often looked at some friends I had that had the "perfect" family.  I determined in my mind that I would have "their" kind of family when I grew up.  I believed it was possible to live without the heartache, turmoil, divisiveness, arguments, favoritism and jealousy that I grew up with.  *Ironically, the family I believed represented the most "ideal" in attaining this possibility was Pastor James Weaver's at the First Baptist Church in Triangle, Virginia.  I would sit in the back of the church, Sunday after Sunday, and watch them.  Their mother was so attentive to them, and they were always dressed so perfectly.  After church, I'd watch them skip happily across the street and enter the little brick parsonage and imagine how wonderful their lives must be.

These idealistic musings played a role in the difficulties I had in the earlier portion of my marriage.  According to FAMILIES OF THE BIBLE: How They Coped With Today's Problems), the "ideal" we imagine can be quite troublesome.

"The ideal home in which everything is harmonious and always pleasant is an exercise in deceit.  No two people can agree on everything.  When people live in close proximity--as they do in a family--strong feelings emerge.  Some means is needed to deal with them." p. 24.

The "deceit" I think I exercised with this "ideal" view of homelife was that all is always as perfect as the picture I had in my mind--all the time.  I left no wiggle-room in my mind for differences in taste, in dreams, in goals, in the traditions of extended families.  Nor did I take into account that I would not always like everything my husband did, or enjoy every aspect of homemaking.  I did not take into account that I could get tired, be pressured, and be sick.  I didn't allow for the fact that I, myself, could be disagreeable, rude, angry and apathetic at times.  The bliss of the "ideal" met with the brutal honesty of reality.  And as a young wife and mother, I was unprepared to "deal" with it. 

It took many years for me to come to terms with this--and the history of a dysfunctional childhood peppered with imperfections.  Even after I understood the role Scripture played in guiding me and my husband and children, I had a tough time admitting it was not always going to be blissful.  After all, I was not perfect, nor could I ever be.  I was a work in progress--and so was every single person within my immediate and extended family.

How about you?  Do you struggle with perfecting your family and making everyone fit into that perfection?  Do you know someone finding it difficult to accept the "ideal" is just that--an ideal?  If so, they might benefit from the book I've listed below.  selahV

[FAMILIES OF THE BIBLE:  How They Coped With Today's Problems, by Howard Hovde and Louis Moore, Hannibal Books]

* "Ironically" because I later became a minister's wife. 

A BOOK RECOMMENDATION by SelahV

FAMILIES OF THE BIBLE:  How They Coped With Today's Problems. by Howard Hovde and Louis Moore, published by Hannibal Books.

When I first thought of reading this, I thought it was probably another one of those books on Bible characters and families that simply gave you a Biblical account (which anyone can read in a Bible), and left you to consider the "moral of the story" for yourself. 

This is not that kind of book. 

Nor is it an attempt to translate and interpret specific passages, or fill one's mind with irrelevant facts.  It is written simply and gives simple situations with complex problems we face today.  There was not one single chapter in which I did not see myself, or someone I know, at one time or another in life.  Alongside Biblical accounts are illustrations of modern-day situations.  So many circumstances we deal with today were once dealt with by others.

These circumstances are reflected upon and help place the reader smack dab in the middle of Biblical individuals' turmoil and struggle.  Change, change and more change.  Moving.  Loss.  Grief.  Marriage.  Immediate and extended family influence.  Results of emotional, spiritual and physical upheavals.  Tests of faith.  Consequences.  It helps us imagine what they might have faced when they made the choices they made and how much family effects decisions and patterns.  The authors write in Chapter Four:

"We do know that much behavior is created, encouraged, and supported by a particular family system.  When change does occur, the whole system is affected.  But when change occurs, the system will do all it can to nullify the change and bring the family back to its original posture."

Then they offer in Chapter Five: 

"...One way to break the cycle of negative history is to learn everything possible about one's family (the family origin) and decide what you want to retain and what you choose to discard."

Authors Howard Hovde and Louis Moore do not claim this to be a work of "precise, historical scholarship".  However, I see the evaluations and observations they make from biblical families and relationships as extremely helpful for today's families and individuals--especially those who cannot understand how to fit their square peg into a round hole of extended family interactions.  It's seems it is a battle of wills at most all stages in life.  It's not easy to do, to be sure.  And that speaks more to the purpose of this book.  To me, it is examining where we have come from, so we can understand where we are and where we can go to live more productively and in greater harmony with others. 

If you want a way to connect dots with today's culture and biblical times, this is a great read.  If you want a book to give a young couple who is contemplating engagement or marriage, this is a good one to include.  If you know someone who is experiencing difficulties in marriage or family relationships, you'll find a bevy of insight in this little 119-page paperback.  If you wonder why you relate to others in life the way you do, then this may shed some light on the way you act and react to folks.

Suggested uses for this book include:  1) a study book for small group, or the basis for a Bible study.  2) assigned chapter reading for Christian mental-health professional dealing with family counseling.  3) a launch pad for Mom and Dad to use with older children in discussing family situations.   The authors make this ideal because of their inclusion of a section at the end of each chapter: "Questions to Consider".  I see it fitting in perfectly for a Discipleship class on Sunday evenings, or a Ladies book-study, or Single Adults study. 

I like it and will recommend it to our Minister of Education, my favorite counselor at the Christian Family Counseling Center, and several of my friends.  I may even do what the authors suggest and pass it around among my friends.

A few words of caution, though: Should you decide it is a book you'd like for a small group or discipleship class, I strongly recommend a mature spiritual leader as a facilitator.  This book could provoke some deep emotional thoughts and hit some areas of discord within couples, families or individuals within a group.  We are all at various stages of Christian growth and some flaws we may see in ourselves or others may need to be weighed carefully in public discussions.  selahV   

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WHAT AM I PASSING ON?

When my daughter first got married, I sat down and wrote out a slew of recipes so she would know how to make my spaghetti sauce, beef stew, stuffed porkchops and various other dishes.  Through the years, when my daughter was cooking, she'd call and ask how long to cook something, if a certain dish could be frozen, etcetera.  My daughter rarely calls me anymore about cooking.  She's learned how, and is one of the best cooks I know.  Now she makes her sauce, stew, and chops.

As her mother, I often wonder how many of my habits I've passed on to my daughter.  Some of the areas I consider weaknesses in myself, I've watched her develop into strengths.  She is an organizer, administrator, take charge kinda person.  I'm a spur of the moment, creative, let things flow kind of person.  She confronts; I encourage.  She expects; I accept.  Is this a direct result of her methodically and determinedly seeking to be different, or do we simply have gifts that lead us to react differently in the same set of circumstances?  How much is innate and how much is learned behavior?

I'm reading an interesting book, FAMILIES OF THE BIBLE: How They Coped with Today's Problems.  The very first chapter touches on families "repeating patterns" and passing along traits to their children through behavior they learn by simply growing up in the household.  Co-authors, Howard Hovde and Louis Moore write:

"Many couples duplicate patterns their parents establish....The family in which we were reared left deeper impressions on us than we probably realize--how we feel about ourselves, how we view the world, how we relate to our spouses, what we think of money, how we feel about others."

This comes as no surprise to me.  I have fought off many of the patterns I carried into my life from my parents.  I also developed patterns of my own which I tried to keep my children from adopting.  Nevertheless, there are some things that cling like stick-tights and it may take years to break the habits or destroy patterns our children pick up.  My daughter took into her marriage some facts:  her father helped her mother with many household chores.  She married a man whose mother did all the housekeeping and cooking.  These were patterns from their families that challenged their marriage.  They had to work through them.  I like what the authors said about that: 

"From 16 to 25 years of observing and experiencing how to relate doesn't automatically stop at the altar.  The system that has developed in the home is strong; the momentum to continue it is powerful."  

How about you?  What areas of your family life do you see your children adopting?  What habits of yours do you hope they will adopt?  What patterns have you passed on?

In the next few posts I plan to offer a sampling of what Hovde and Moore have served to us in their book.  There are "Families Of The Bible" which speak to the problems we have today.  There are still things we can learn from these families--their mistakes, their patterns, their actions.  Perhaps we wil learn something new about "How They Coped with Today's Problems".  Ya think?  selahV  

LIFE IS SUCH A BLESSING

I've been too busy enjoying life to have time to write about it much on this blog.  Sorry friends.  But I had my precious granddaughters for the weekend and when they are here, the world stops.  I may get in a comment or two, but basically, they are THE priority.  Snuggles, pillow-talk, motocross races, Sunday School and church, playing with puppies, water-park, and non-stop cartoons.  The only news on television we are concerned about is the weather report.

We'd planned to go to the water-park today and it stormed last night and this a.m.  It has been so hot in Oklahoma you could bake a potato in the sun.  But the first time my son's girls came over in a month, it storms on the day we plan fun-in-the-sun.  No problem though.  The Lord spread forth His hand and opened the doorways to a sun-drenched afternoon.  So we went and Haylee Jae and Kinsey joined us with my daughter.  When Kinsey's naptime came, my daughter went home and the four of us stayed and played mermaid in the wave-pool.  I sat on the edge and let them swirl around like Ariel and dance for me.  I was assigned role of "mother mermaid".  (Imagination is wonderful.)  Brooklyn, who's eleven (going on sixteen), helped me with her sister, Abby, and cousin Haylee throughout the day.  My back prohibits quick movement and rotation so it was great to have a real live mermaid along to help me with the younger girls in the "lazy river".

We went to see Haylee's puppies and sat in the shed for over an hour just cuddling and loving on the puppies.  We all named them.  There are five puppies.  And they now have twenty names.  Ha.  It was a blast.  God is so good.  So very good.

I took Brooklyn and Abby home tonight (Bob was extremely tired from working today...I could tell...I'm his wife, after all.)  It takes only 45 minutes to drive to Texas.  It was dark when I left to come back.  And I was about three quarters of the way home when Brooklyn called worried about me.  She wanted to make sure I had made it through all of the road construction and found my way back to the interstate.  Amazing child.  We talked some on the phone and I assured her I was fine...that Jesus was with me and would get me safely home.  That made her feel much better.  When I got into the drive I texted her that I was home and loved her.  She texted back, "K."  I'm sure she'll sleep better now.

Little things God gives me in life are my greatest joys.  And spending time with grandchildren is the ultimate blessing.  We talk about Him.  We share with one another how great He is.  We pray together and thank Him for each other, for life, for food, for family and puppies.  What could be greater than that?  selahV

WHAT ABOUT YOU? Are You Typical? TEXT THIS...

What is a typical family these days?  Do they eat together at the table or in the living room with TV trays, and television tuned into the news (or Mom's favorite TIVO-ed program)?  Does the family pray before meals?  Do you pry the I-phones and cell-phones out of texting-teen teens fingers long enough to have a conversation?  Are you all a-Twitter about what the rest of the world is doing--Iran's bogus elections, North Korea's nuclear bomb threats, murdering radical Islamist extremist killing an American soldier in front of a recruiting office in the United States in broad daylight?  or do ya'll chat about one another's day...the flowers that were planted, the ticks taking over the back yard, the fear your child has when left alone, the bruised emotions of your pre-teen's heart because her friends betrayed her, the funny things God brought about in your day?

Do you even sit in the same room more than 15 minutes without an outside distraction?  Do all your family's activities consist of soccer and softball practice--then attending games?  Or do you sit around and play dominoes, Yatzee, Monopoly and Bible Triva games?  Do you have croquet in the back yard, a swimming pool, horseshoes, and badmitton?  Or do you have pristine lawns that must be mowed, trimmed and weed-eated?

Do you have Family Worship times together?  Do you pray with your children individually in their rooms at night?  Before they go to school or begin their day?  Do you still take time to put Christ at the center of your lives by sharing a scripture and talking about what it means?  Or do ya just leave that to teachers on Sunday morning?

Exactly what is typical for you with family time?  A worship time?  A devotional, prayer time?  A conference time where you share your thoughts about the family's interaction and ideas about the world at large?  Do you help form your family's philosophy, cultural engagement, or do you let the world form their philosophy and cultural engagements?   I'd really like to know...can you share any pointers with us?  selahV  

TIME FLIES! WHEW!

Sixteen?  I can't believe it!  But it's true.  Ryan is graduating and Jordy is driving!  What a blessing these boys are to me.

Lord protect them, guide them in Your ways.  Deepen their love for You, Jesus.  Let them be beacons of Light for others.  selahV

TO SOME, IT'S IRRELEVANT; TO OTHERS....

...it carries all the relevancy in the world.  May 8th.  It's just another day in May to most folks.  It's not Cinco de Mayo, or the National Day of Prayer.  And this year, it's not even Mother's Day.  Four years ago, it was the worst day of my entire life.  It was Mother's Day.  While waiting for a blooming onion at Applebee's, my husband's cellphone rang.  A few minutes later, we were told my only son, Chad, had been killed in an ATV accident.  I will never forget that day. 

Today I went down to Texas to see his two little girls for lunch.  Each of them asked me the same thing.  "Mimi, do you remember what today is?"  Abby was just 3 at the time.  Brooklyn, 7.  It's hard to believe they remember each year.  But they do.  Brooklyn marks it on her calendar--as well as his birthday in August.  Brooklyn was comforting a friend who was sad because today also marked the one-year anniversary of her grandmother's death.  Brooklyn said, "I understand how you feel, cause I lost my daddy four years ago on this day."  After that, several students came up to her and told her they were sorry.  But Brooklyn said, "It's okay.  I'm sad; but I'm still happy."  I'm so grateful for that.  I told her, that was good, because her daddy wanted her to be happy.

It's odd to think back and realize someone who was such a dynamic force in your life has been gone for four years.  And that he's never coming back.  The days aren't as long anymore, but the years are still flying by.  Chad was so full of life that I know he wouldn't want us thinking sad thoughts.  He would want us to celebrate life--just as he is celebrating Life with his Savior in heaven.  He's probably equally thrilled that his youngest daughter, Abby is going to be baptized on May 17th--that she's given her heart to Jesus and wants the world to know.

All these things may be irrelevant to some folks.  But to me, and to folks who know and love me and my grandchildren, it's very relevant.  Relevancy is a personal thing.  What's relevant to one, can be utterly irrelevant to another--in which case, the latter need not concern himself at all.  For the former?  We are "remembering the good times" and praising God for the legacy of love Chad left behind in our hearts forever.  selahV 

SEEMS LIKE IT WAS JUST YESTERDAY...

...that Ryan and I sat in the swing set in his backyard.  He didn't want me to go home to Kentucky.  He was only 6 years old.  He told me I could stay and live in one of his dad's "working houses" (a.k.a. redo constructions).  He said his preacher grampa could "work for his dad".  Several years passed before that actually became a reality.  Now Ryan is going to a prom and graduating from high school and preparing for college.  What a difference a few years make.  How time flies.  I'm sure some of you remember that just a year ago in Ryan's Junior year, he had a motorcycle accident and broke his neck and back.  Thank God for your prayers and His healing grace that made tonight possible.

<== Younger brother, Jordy was impressed with his brother's choice of young Christian ladies.  He even gave him a hug and said, "Have a good time, tonite!"  Ryan wasn't quite sure if he should trust his offering of good will.  I don't blame him, just ten minutes before Ryan and his date arrived, Jordy had tried on a pair of those weird dentures that expose gums and rotting teeth.  He planned to shake her hand and flash his fake smile.  He thought better of it, but his dad got a big kick out of the thought and was egging him on.  Brothers.  They really do love one another.

Little sisters got into the shots, too.  When Ryan walked in with Rachel, two-year-old Kinsey took a deep breath and said, "she's pretty."  And we all agreed.

The girls did their usual shy act and hid behind a column in the livingroom for the first ten minutes.  Kinsey ventured up to Rachel and tapped her pretty satin dress a few times.

I took photos and promised to send some to Bethany and Ryan's other grandma.  It's the least I could do.  But I thought this written piece was in order.  Ryan's education and spiritual growth is his priority.  And I suppose he's doing fairly well since he is tenth in his graduating class out of 179 seniors.  I'm excited for him tonite; I'm proud of him every day.  I pray they have a good time tonite.  I pray that the students who go to proms all over the country in the next few weeks will be safe and grow up to fulfill the purpose God has for their lives.

My grandchildren are growing up.  Before I know it those little girls standing knee-high to their big brother, will be donning dresses and curling tresses.  Life is indeed a vapor.  Breathe in and enjoy its fragrance.  I am.  selahV    

IF THERE WERE ANY GOOD MEN...

The officiating minister only knew daddy a few years, so his sermon centered around my dad's last few months of suffering, and briefly touched upon folks he would see in heaven since settling in Tennessee just seven years ago.  As he spoke of the glory of heaven and the streets of pure gold, I thought about daddy's entire 88 years and 10-plus months.  There was so much of him to remember--so much to celebrate:  His love for his Savior and the way he praised Him.  His love for his mom and dad--the way he honored them.  His love for his brothers and sisters--the way he visited them every year until his body would no longer allow it.  The way he went to every funeral, though none would make it to his.  The way he respected the grounds where their bodies lay.

So much was left unsaid.  And I suppose that is the way it is when anyone dies.  We each hold memories of how that person touched our individual lives.  There is never any one person who could recap 89 years in 15 minutes.

There is no one who could tell of the sacrifice he made for his country in World War II.  The anguish he harbored as a result of his service.  There was no one who could recount the endless joy he gave to others by his many years of volunteer work as a fireman and rescue squad driver.  There was no one to speak of the decades of dedication he'd rendered his employers and the honesty in which he conducted his life.  There was no one to expand upon his benevolence to his church, his family, friends and strangers.  There was no one to share the results of all the prayers he lifted up in behalf of the lost and the saved. 

However, as I stood at the funeral home and greeted the many strangers who knew daddy only 7 short years in Mountain City, Tennessee, the recurring comment to me about my dad was, "He was a good man....such a good man."  These people knew him from just two years of attending church with them.  They knew him from 5 years of being in a nursing home.  Yet they all said the same thing, "He was a good man."

In my adult years Daddy seemed to try and make up for all he felt he had not done during my childhood.  As any of us would feel as we approach the end of our earthly life, Daddy had many regrets.  And no one could shake him of them no matter how hard we tried.  It didn't matter now.  I loved my daddy.  And if someone were to ask me, I'd have to agree that if there had been any good men in this ole world, my dad could be counted among them.  selahV   

WHICH COMES FIRST? LOVE OR FAITH?

He hadn't had a Christmas tree in years.  A simple, gentle bearded grandpa.  A heart as big as the moon.  His sweet little post will break your heart and fill it up simultaneously.  Then you will absolutely have to pray for him and the grandchildren he's posted about so many times.  One of his granddaughters has leukemia.  Please read the post.  selahV  

IT DIDN'T MATTER THAT WE LOST...

It's an annual event at our church; but even moreso for my son's two little girls.  We started making Gingerbread Houses at Family Nite in December the first year after Chad died.  It's something the girls will change all plans to attend.  They beg their mom and they talk about it for weeks.  In fact, we start planning the next year's design as soon as we finish the present year's construction.

The last two years my daughter's family have won.  And why shouldn't they?  Her hubby builds houses and my oldest grandson is studying to be an engineer.  His emphasis is on the foundation each year.  He's built a two story and this year he had a farmhouse with one of those porches that go all around the house.

Me?  Well, the girls and I stacked our graham crackers to make a log cabin effect.  I wanted to do a shaker style two story but we ran out of icing to glue it together and had to go to Plan B--make do with whatever.   It's kind of funny, but back when I was growing up, that's what we did with everything.  We "made do".  When you "make do", you improvise, you make things go further.  In our case, with the Gingerbread House, I scraped some of the thicker icing off and put it on other parts.  I scooped up the "snow" in the yard and used some of it.  And we added rice krispie bars instead of graham crackers.  It worked out pretty good, even if we didn't win.

My granddaughters said, "It doesn't matter if we win; it's all about having fun together."  The cherry licorice chimney fell down.  The porches weren't high enough for the candycanes to fit beneath them; we had to break some off (getting an uneven look).  We had to brace our snowmen against the walls to keep them standing.  It didn't come out quite like I'd designed.  But we finished it.  We were happy.  And we had fun.

Today I think about how important foundations and support beams and posts are in our lives.  I think about the foundation of my faith and the support I have through my church family and Christian friends.  Life has been quite a struggle this year but through the continual prayer support of everyone, we've made it.

I've started planning my spiritual "house" and structuring my design for the New Year.  Ultimately, I will rest in the fact that my Lord has the final say in the construction.  And I will yield to the guidance of His Spirit's instructions.  After all, He has the blueprint.  selahV 

SOMETHING SOLID, STABLE, SECURE AND CONSOLING

In the midst of global turmoil, financial crisis and spiritual rebellion, there is hope in Thanksgiving celebrations. 

  Yesterday we gathered at my daughter's home to share in a feast of sorts.  The basic fare of turkey, casseroles, pies, and sweet tea graced the lace covered table.  Laughter, squeals and banter shattered ominous world views with family conversations.  My daughter buzzed around the kitchen surrounded by her toddlers and her own grandchildren pattering about her legs.  My eldest granddaughter created deviled eggs and formed crescent rolls.  Grampas and dads failed to corral children as they tried to watch football games on TV.

I carved the turkey for comic relief.

My 15 year-old grandson, Jordy, hobbled into the kitchen to await the moment of diving into all that food.  Jordy is mending from his second surgery on the second foot.  He texted messages to friends about Christmas lists and iPhone features. 

My sleepy 17-year-old grandson, Ryan, did not regret his 5 a.m. adventure of hunting deer, even though the deer had not appeared.  He shared the logic and reason of deer avoiding his path.

After we stuffed ourselves, Ryan retired to his room for a nap.  Mamas put two toddlers down for their afternoon snooze.  My hubby held 6-month-old, Ethan, and watched the Cowboys slaughter the Seahawks.  The other 7 adults played rounds of ROOK. 

And me?

I took photos and cataloged memories.  I did what I said I would do:  I chose "the good portion".  I praised God for all the sights and sounds of family unity and fellowship.  I reveled in the history of generations of tradition.  I marveled at the amazing solidifying grace of God for securing the souls of everyone present, save the toddlers and baby.  (It's only a matter of time.)  I thanked God for the stability His presence and protection have afforded our family.  And in all that I am consoled.

How about you?  How're you doing on this day the world dubs as "Black Friday"?  selahV

 

[© SelahV Today,hariette petersen, 2008]
      

     

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF YESTERDAY'S STORMS

I am so blessed.  Yesterday I shared with you, my readers and friends, the tumultuous situation regarding my dad.  Bless his heart, he's such a champ.  Today, I talked with his wife and she'd told Daddy I was working with his congressman to try and keep him in the room he has come to regard as home.  Daddy told her, "I'll be okay.  It's gonna be fine."

Daddy is hoping if he moves that his roommate, Avery, will be able to move with him.  A representative from the nursing home that is suppose to be Dad's new destination, came by this a.m. and asked Avery if he'd like to be moved with my dad.  Of course Avery said yes.  Anyway, I do not know what is going to come of it all.  Everything is very much up in the air.  But I am at peace and it appears that your prayers have set my father at peace.  I have an email I want to share with you all.  A sage friend of mine sent it to me when I was in the throes of my deepest anguish over all of this.  Such words brought comfort we all need to hear in such times:

"SelahV,  How deeply I regret this and I will pray.  If worse comes to worse and it happens, turn it on end.  Tell him, “Dad our God is pretty amazing.  Usually people that have your physical problems and years, God let them retire.  But someone is on the way to hell in the new place where God is allowing you to be sent and the only chance he has to go to heaven will be your witness.  Consequently, you have no choice but to go as cheerfully, if fearfully, as a 24 year old kid going off alone to an obscure African village to labor alone for the next ten years.  Can you believe that God still has a plan and purpose for you that is so important?  One more time in life, you must ride Dad.  I know you can do it.  Eternity is depending upon you.”  This will not help you, but it is probably true and may help him.  Our Lord will heal your heart." 

My friends, this did help me.  It helped me envision the awesome God perspective I often have when I encounter such things in life.

I intend to share this with my dad should he be transferred to another facility.  This email reminded me of the man I call Daddy.  My dad is a man who went back into a burning ship off the coast of Africa to rescue fallen comrades during Operation Torch in World War II.  In that crossfire battle, Daddy's ship of 1200 men came out of the battle with only about 126 survivors.  He and a handful of men shared a tiny dirt floor cell with a latrine running down the middle of it.  They were tossed dogmeat and worm-ladened mush to eat.  Daddy is a strong, resilient man.  Age has robbed him of most of his dignity but it will not rob him of his character.  Of this I am certain.

I thank you for your continued prayers.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, hariette petersen, 2008]

   

WHEN LIFE IS CRUEL AND NO ONE CARES...

Very few things happen to me that can really break my heart anymore.  Life has not been very kind the last few years.  I've come to accept that life is quite cruel as I lean on my Lord and Savior for strength through each day.  Today is one of those days that kinda reached inside my heart and twisted till the tears came tumbling down my cheeks.

Let me explain:

I received some rotten news about my 88 year-old father today.  The VA has canceled their contracts with Lifecare Center of Elizabethton, Tennessee where my dad has lived for around 6 years. (Of course, VA didn't bother to check with the Veterans to see if they'd like the idea.  They just did it.) So next week they plan to move Daddy out of his familiar nursing-care center. I suppose if this were to have happened a few years ago, it would not have mattered all that much.  Daddy was a bit more mobile and aware and even capable of adapting to newer surroundings.  But today, my dad knows his present nursing facility as home.

He knows the nurses by the sound of their voices and the way they clear their throats, cough, giggle or sneeze.  He knows the routine by the sound of the carts moving up and down the hall and the smells that waft through his room.  He knows the custodial assistants by the steps they take when they walk inside his room.  But the VA doesn't care what he knows.  Next week they plan to uproot him and move him to a strange environment, with strange people, all familiarity ripped from his life. 

Daddy is blind.  He gets to the bathroom by knowing exactly how far to reach his arm to get to his wheel chair and wheel to the shared facility.  He knows how far it is to his sink to wash his hands.  He knows by the sound of his roommate's breathing if he needs to call a nurse.  He passes the long hours of each day and most nights, talking with his friend, Avery.  They know everything there is to know about one another.  They've learned to live with one another's habits.  And they pray together.  They cry together.  They rejoice together.  And now Daddy will be separated from his buddy (whom he calls brother) he has had for over 5 years and sent to a facility filled with strangers.  New nurses.  New routines.  New custodial folks.  New food.  New schedules.  Everything.

I'm furious and I know I should not be.  But my heart is grieving for him.  He is 100% disabled due to his heart condition and blindness.  You'd think they could let him live out the rest of his days where he is familiar with his surroundings.  Daddy is extremely upset and wants to just die and get it over with.  He can't imagine being where he knows no one.  Where no one loves him as his nurses do where he is now.  His wife is beside herself with worry because this is happening to him.  She has to drive nearly an hour to see him when she goes to see him and so with the price of gas (it was 6.00 a gallon in E-town last week), she's had to cut back going to see him.  And now VA wants to take him out of his home and move him along with 5 other VA patients.  Pity them all.

Personally, I think this is cruel.  Truly cruel.  And I really could use your prayers as I deal with this.  But more especially for my dad and his wife, Shirley as they cope.  Thanks.  selahV 

MANDATORY EVACUATION, RIDING IT OUT ON THE HIGH SEAS

What a difference a hurricane makes! 

My granddaughter lives about 10 minutes from downtown Biloxi, Mississippi.  Her hubby decided a month ago to take her on a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico for her birthday.  They were suppose to return and dock in Mobile tomorrow a.m.  Her mother-in-law had flown down to watch her two little boys till they returned.  Instead there is a mandatory evacuation there.  So, last night, Sherry drove all night long and brought the boys home here to Oklahoma.  My granddaughter's ship can't dock till at least Wednesday, and even when it does, we don't know where they are going to dock.  It depends on Gustav's track.

Bethany said the waves are high and the cruise ship is rolling.  She's been sick almost the entire time.  She has no idea whether she will have a home when she returns.  It is on the east side of New Orleans and will be within the cone's path of destruction.  When Katrina hit New Orleans years ago, it left Biloxi a virtual ghost town.  I remember a casino ship sitting in the middle of a street a year after when I took her down to see her husband when he was stationed there for training.  Entire streets were gone.  And that was just Biloxi.

Her home sits less than a mile from the ocean in Ocean Springs.  All their possessions sit inside that house.  But I am so grateful that her two little boys are here.  Her greatest treasures.  Safe and sound.  Sleeping at their Nonna's house.  I got to rock little Ethan to sleep today for his nap.  Conner gave me big old hugs when he saw me.  Pray for my granddaughter, Bethany and Jarrett as they wait to come home.  Pray for the well-being of all in those coastal states.  This is going to be hard on alot of our family of countrymen and women.  selahV

 

WHAT JESUS IS NOT

Incapable of understanding your pain. He's felt it.

Without comfort.  He is the Comfort.

Lacking in answers.  He is the answer.

Inattentive.  He waits for you to draw near.

Powerless.  He is Strength.

Absent.  He is Everpresent.

Poor.  He is King of everything.

Dead.  He is Life.

Jesus is God and He is good.

BEYOND THE WOMB...

dailyIMPACT by selahV 

A FEW WORDS ABOUT CECIL SHERMAN'S OWN RECKONING

I first learned of Cecil Sherman when I read a post about a new book he'd written, By My Own Reckoning.

When I read Dr. Paige Patterson's review of the book, I had to have it. [Read WHY...}

HERE I GO AGAIN

Bumper to bumper holiday traffic.  A roundtrip of 1,200 miles and approximately 13 to 14 hours.  Two babies and a teenager in the backseat for six of those hours.  Then we turn around and drive back through (most likely) worse holiday traffic because everyone is on the road to family celebrations and picnics.

PLEASE PRAY FOR US TODAY.

My grandson, Ryan, has already proven himself capable of navigating the highways of Dallas Fort Worth when he helped me drive back from Biloxi in April.  So again today, he will drive and I will give the directions.  And I am not so worried about him--but the other drivers who may start celebrating early, they concern me.  Well, that's it, friends.  Just lift us up in prayer as we take my granddaughter and her baby boys to Shreveport to pick up her car and travel on to Ocean Springs, Mississippi.  Bethany will be traveling on in the same kind of traffic.  Although, I believe hers will be worse because everyone will be heading for the beaches.  And she has the added factor of traveling with an infant and a toddler.  We can all use your prayers.  A few angels won't hurt either.  selahV

If ya wanna read something kind of cute, click on my KIDS' MATTERS blog for an interesting lesson on self-sufficiency.

       

BEWARE OF HAVING GRANDDAUGHTERS

I know that when the girls were born, they were the apple of his eye.  I know he's got a humongous softspot for anything they want to do.  But this takes the cake!  When six-year-old Abby and three-year-old HayJae got together last week, their idea of fun was playing beautician with Grampa's hair.  This was the result:

Love.

It's amazing what one will endure to please a child.  He's such a sap for their wiles.  He says he draws the line at nailpolish though.

Later, this is where they ended up:

NO ONE CALLED ME BLESSED

It's funny.  Proverbs says, "Her children rise up and call her blessed;" 31:28a.   No one said that to me today.  And as far as I know, my daughter didn't rise up and tell anyone else either.  But then I wasn't with her the entire day, so she may have told someone.

I'm kidding, of course.  I write this to simply say, that no one has to rise up and call me blessed.  The Amplified Bible elaborates on the word "blessed" as: ("happy, fortunate, and to be envied)".  I am happy to have a beautiful daughter who blessed me with 5 grandchildren.  I am happy to have had a son who blessed me with two granddaughters, too.  I'm fortunate to have been privileged to mother them both.  And I should be envied that they both gave their lives to Jesus.

One thing that Mother's Day brings to my mind supercedes the commercialism of its presence in our lives.  For anyone to celebrate Mother's Day, they have to have had a mother.  None of us were born in test tubes.  I truly wish that I could rise up and call my mother blessed.  But I can 't.  Through the years I've learned to be a mother by watching the best of mothers.  I gained my greatest lessons from watching Christian moms.  By the time I began really being the mother God intended a mother to be, my children were well on their way to forming some pretty solid habits.  All I can say, is I sure wish I'd known then what I know now.

I wish I had the patience then that I have now.  I wish I had the wisdom.  I wish I had the experience and knowledge.  But I didn't, and no amount of wishing can make it any different.  However, I have learned one thing that is vital to all mothers anywhere.  I've learned to tell my daughter that I'm sorry.  I've learned to tell her I don't know everything and even though I have learned a lot of stuff that is very helpful to know, I think she is doing a great job being a mother and doesn't need to know everything I know to be the best mom she can be.

I like being my daughter's mom today better than I liked being my daughter's mom years ago.  The pressure is off.  I don't have to fix her, change her, correct her, discipline her or guard over her.  I get to do the best stuff...encourage her, love her, pray for her and praise her.  And that is the best thing about being a mom today.  For me anyway.  selahV

PRECIOUS WORDS...make perfect sense to me

" Hey!  This hat's trying to swallow my head!"

Holding Conner is my joy.

Playing in the sand is Conner's joy!

There's much to be said for being a grandmother!  I paid my dues as a mom and now I am enjoying the fruits of my labor (pun intended).

Tonite I sit here typing and listening to the monitor next to my bed.  Conner is making little noises and every now and then he says, "uh, Oh."  I giggle as he jabbers and makes all the sense in the world to himself.  And I wonder if that's how it is with me--some thing's makes so much sense to me, and I wonder how much sense it makes to others.

God's people just couldn't seem to understand Him and so He sent His Son to communicate Himself to us.  For when we saw Jesus--we saw the Father also.  So when we follow Jesus, we follow the commands of the Father.  Jesus showed us how to communicate with the Father, He left His Spirit to intercede should we still need help.  He left His Word as a guidebook.  And in that Guidebook makes all the sense in the world--to the sheep who hear the Shepherd's voice.  selahV

[Please continue to pray for Bethany as God puts the finishing touches on Conner's little brother, Ethan.  Latent labor is a bummer.]

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]

Cockcadoodle Doo!! Sometimes Ya Just Gotta Crow!

These are my grandchildren.  [Click on photo to enlarge]

The photo is a result of my granddaughter Bethany's persistence in getting a family photo to send out for Christmas last year.  She's such a pushy little thing.  Just kidding.  Very organized.  Determined.  And assertive.  Child of mercy, she is.

She's the lovely blonde in the photo who is expecting any day now to give me my second great-grandson.  (Yeah, that means Ethan was in the photo, too.  Just tucked away beneath her shirt.)  The little tyke she is holding is her baby sister, Kinsey--her son's auntie. 

Kinsey is a ball of Mexican jumping beans.  She is in a perpetual state of doing.  She thinks everything she sees is for her personal entertainment. (Including family members.)  Her other sister, Haylee Jae is the tiny one in the white shirt at the bottom center of the photo   Haylee weighs the same as her baby sister Kinsey.  She's teensey tiny and communicates on the level of her older cousins, Brooklyn and Abby (pictured in red shirts next to her).  Haylee Jae pretty much runs the whole household.  I've written several blogposts about her should you want to peruse the archives.  She knows big words like schedule and calendar and knows what they mean.  She tells me all the time about Jesus being born as a baby and dying on the cross so we can all go live with Him in heaven with God someday.  She tells me ever so often that her Uncle Chad is in heaven with God.  And I smile.  She thinks I should always have a bouquet of daisies in my house.  I agree.

The little stinker being held by Bethany's husband, Jarrett, is Conner, her firstborn son and my first great-grandson.  Conner is a routine kinda baby.  Sleeps, eats, plays and sleeps then does it all over again.  His favorite thing to do is be chased by his Daddy behind the sofa and recliners.  His favorite food is bananas but he enjoys Apple Jacks.  He ate French-cut bean casserole yesterday and thought it was mmmmmn.

The young great looking guy on the right in a white shirt is Ryan, 17.  He's the one who broke his neck and back last summer while jumping in a motocross practice.  (He's healed and fine--thanks to your prayers.  And he doesn't race anymore.  He'd rather pursue deeper studies in Scripture with his youth pastor and focus on his pre-engineering classes for college in a year or so.)  Ryan is the protector and prophet in the family.  He knows what he believes and follows the rules.  "That ain't right" is one of the sayings you hear quite often when faced cultural complexities.  It is just "not right".  So ya don't do it.  He sees no need to date girls till he's ready to get married.  He only wants to be friends.

That cute guy on the top left in the photo is Ryan's, and Bethany's younger brother, Jordan.  Jordan cannot sit still and be happy.  He's a mover and a shaker.  His greatest interest is motocross racing.  He finished 2nd in a state competition series in Oklahoma this past year in two different classes.  When he rides, it looks like he and the bike are one.  He loves the thrill of jumping.  He's always looking for a higher risk way of jumping on the trampoline, jumping diving boards and simply taking on the world.  He would have easily been called to take on Goliath.  He's that kind of boy.  He's a main attraction at the lunchroom for girls who think he is simply adorable.  And they are right.  Any gal that wins his heart will have to love racing and going and doing.  Otherwise she will be lost in his dust.  He wasn't all that proud of himself for getting inducted into the National Honor Society last month.  Doesn't want to be known for what he knows.

Then, there is the two little gals in red in the bottom of the pic.  Brooklyn to the left and Abby to the right.  They are lights in a dark space.  Brooklyn is 10, ever trying to please and incredibly smart.  She says she wants to be a missionary.  Is always asking questions about Jesus.  Her favorite seat in the house is next to me in my recliner.  Her favorite seat outside the house is in our hammock.  Abby is 6 and wants all of me all the time.  She's my cuddle-bug. She's happiest  when she's making something for someone.  Your delight is her delight.  And right now my delight is that I had two precious children, Chad and Holly who made these precious grandchildren possible.  selahV

APRIL 3RD...SUCH A BLESSED DAY!

Thirty-nine years ago I gave birth to my daughter.  My third child.  Yet, she was the first I was able to hold.  Her brother had only lived 23 hours.  His name was Paul.  Then I lost another nearly a year later.

Then, blessings of blessings, the Lord gave me Holly.

<---Here, she holds her first grandson, my first great-grandson.

When I held her the first time so many emotions went through my heart--so many thoughts through my mind.  I loved her so much.  I thought she was the most beautiful baby in all the world.  Thick black hair.  Perfect round face.  Skin that looked like she'd been sunbathing in Hawaii, instead of growing in my womb.  I wanted to be the best mother in the world.  I really thought I could be.  I thought being a mother was all about holding and loving.  I never really liked the idea of setting boundaries and limitations.  Guess that's why my daughter grew up to be so doggone independent.  She's also one who likes to be in control of her situations.  And she is quite good at juggling two teenage boys, two toddler girls, bookkeeping for her husband's construction business and being a dedicated deacon's wife, S.S. director and long-distant support-system for her oldest daughter who is about to have her second grandson and my second great-grandson. 

What an amazing daughter God allowed me to mother.  We've shared some pretty heavy-duty stuff in these past years.  When she married her widower husband, she immediately adopted his daughter and never once saw her as anything but her own.  She was such an inspiration to me as a mom.  Her husband was almost immediately deployed to Korea for a year.  And Holly handled some very difficult issues at the time.  Then, in her first pregnancy, her husband was deployed to Iraq for Desert Shield which became Desert Storm.  He returned the day before her baby was born.  She never complained.  She weathered the "storm".

Today I think about what an amazing lady she is.  Fantastic cook, helpmate and mother.  She loves the Lord and seeks to honor Him in her actions and words.  Most of what she has become is because of the Holy Spirit living within her and her yielding to His promptings in her life.  I really wish I could take credit for some of that, but in reality, I think she excelled in spite of my inabilities as a mother--not because of any abilities.  Either way, I am blessed because of her.  selahV

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]

ON THE ROAD

When you read this, I will probably be on my way to Tennessee to visit my father enroute to my granddaughter's in Biloxi, MS.  I ask for your prayers for a safe trip.

Dad will be 88 on Sunday and I want to be with him to celebrate his birthday.  My granddaughter is expecting her second baby in a few weeks and her hubby is doing field duty for the U.S. Airforce for two weeks.  So I'm going to stay with her for the duration and try to spoil my great-grandson till he drives everyone crazy when I leave.  Not really.  But I do hope to be a blessing to my granddaughter and my father in the next few weeks.

But more than that, I ask you to pray for the strangers I may meet along the way.  May I be open to any opportunity God gives me to share His word, to sow seeds and show Light in the darkness.  Thank you all.

I won't have a computer till I reach my granddaughter's on Monday evening, the 24th.  So until then I leave you with a couple of preposted pieces for Friday and Easter.  May God richly bless you all in this season of celebrating our Savior's Redeeming Grace.

BE SURE AND CHECK OUT MY daily devotionals at dailyIMPACT.  I've written several on various names of God that describe parts of His incomprehensible nature and character. selahV

I JUST CAN'T HELP IT! AFTER ALL, HE'S FAMILY

The phone rang interrupting my writing.

"Mom, Rowdy broke his leg.  It's terrible, mom!  We've got to get him to the vet.  He may have to have it amputated." Now, my daughter is not a person prone to panic.  She's rather cautious when it comes to drama.  So when she called at 1:30 to tell me my son's dog had broken his leg and needed to get to the vet, I took her seriously.  Five minutes later, I stood looking down at poor Rowdy.  He immediately struggled to get to his feet.  His left front leg just hung at his side like his shoulder was dislocated.  His foot was turned at a very odd angle.  It did look like he'd broken it.  It looked like he may have broken it in two places.  I was worried he wouldn't let us pick him up and put him in the truck.  But he did.

When we got to vet's, it turned out to be worse than we thought.  It was nerve damage.  He'd so wrenched his leg that he simply couldn't move it.  It didn't have any feeling in it at all.  So now, Rowdy is taking cortizone and antibiotics.  He's staying in my back yard and we won't know for two months if he'll need it amputated.  It makes me cry to just type this post.  I know he's just a dog.  But he is a good dog.  When my son died, I got to keep Rowdy.  Only problem is he's so big, that my back yard was more like a cage than a yard.  So my grandsons took him in and he's been free to roam acres of land at my daughter's. 

I've always loved Rowdy.  I loved him because my son loved him.  Chad thought Rowdy was the greatest dog and often let his girls bathe him in the backyard then let him sleep near their beds at night.  Since my son died, Rowdy has become a part of our entire family.  He minds so well.  If I tell him to go lie down, he does it.  If I say, "no, boy", then he doesn't climb on me or try to come in the house.  If it wasn't for my husband, I'd give him a bath and keep him here at my house.

The vet has no idea what kind of dog he is, but his neck is so large that he cannot wear a collar.  It slides right over his head.  He is built like a giant yellow Rottweiller.  He's basically a mutt, but reminds me of a large Old Yeller with huge golden tiger eyes.  He'll eat a coyote for lunch if it comes around the house.  But he loves children and is a snuggle bug if you let him climb into your lap---which you would never do because he weighs 85 pounds and is very, very big.

It's odd that I am writing about an emergency phone call right now.  This morning before my day began, I wrote my devotional for Wednesday's dailyIMPACT.  I wouldn't have guessed this would be the way my day turned out after writing that post.

We do not know what today holds.  But we know Who holds today.  And though I have no idea whether Rowdy will get well, I know it matters to God that it matters to me and the children.  And He will take care of it all.  We covet your prayers that his nerve damage heals.  selahV

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]   

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM

TO GIVE YOU KIM RADFORD.

KIM RADFORD designs, creates and blesses others with the beauty of her soul.   

Every now and then I am blasted from the past with a sweet memory that comes to life today.  This is the case with Kim Radford.  Kim is an artist.  When she was a little girl, she painted pictures that delighted her parents.  When she became a teenager, her daring and intuitive mother allowed her to paint her bedroom wall totally black.  Yes, folks.  Black.  Kim, a quiet, kind-hearted and gentle soul, leaned toward the dramatic when it came to coloring her world.  She came by it honestly, her mother, Kathy, had the gift also.

During her husband's ministries in various churches, Kathy designed sets for producing Carman plays that would make a Broadway designer grown with envy.  I will never forget going to the first church her husband, Peter Lumpkins, pastored in Louisville, Kentucky.  When they showed us around, Kathy had created a storybook wonderland on the walls of the church nursery.  It was like stepping into the pages of a children's book, complete with fences, trees, spider webs, flowers, and children staring at the sky.  Breathtaking would be an understatement.

Kathy's artistic flair gave birth to mine.  When my husband and I pastored in Owensboro, Kentucky, I took the youth building (consisting of 4 motel rooms with the walls torn out) and painted the entire room like an undersea world.  We called our youth space, The Net.  It resembled the inside of Nemo book.  Octopus, starfish, schools of various fish, coral and seaweed.  Later I painted the same thing on my grandsons' bedroom wall.

Inspiration is a wonderful thing.  Kathy inspired me.  While I don't have her incredible talent and gift, I could copy from a book and add my signature to the wall murals.

Kim Radford received a gift from God to create.  She is definitely her mother's daughter.  Her work can be seen by clicking on her website here. If you live in her area and could use a delightful look for your church nursery, child's room or entryway, then she is the gal to contact.  She offers classes where she teaches children to tap into the God-given talents they have.  What beauty there is inside her soul, what goodness is revealed when she frees her soul and paints it upon the walls and canvasses of life.  selahV   

CALL TO PRAYER~~ONLY A MIRACLE WILL SUFFICE

He's a darling precious little boy.  His daddy is a preacher.  He battled cancer at the age of 8 months and we thought it was gone.  The hope for this child of God to grow to be an adult are threatened now with the possibility of the return of the cancer that has shown up as a blob on an xray.  We pray it is a dot of infection.  He will have to have a biopsy next week.  A needle will be inserted in his tiny chest and if the doctors cannot get a piece of the lymph node that they believe may be cancer, a far more invasive procedure will be necessary.

I implore you, my prayer warrior friends.  Intercede on this little fella's behalf.  Pray for his parents to have a peace and assurance that the Lord God will provide a miracle.  Let this only be an infection.  Or nothing.  Let it be nothing.  Let it be a blob on an xray screen.  And may God gain all glory and honor for the miracle He provides.  His name is Caelan.  His daddy's name is Alan.  His mother's name is Erika.  He has siblings, and grandparents.  Pray for them all.  Please add Caelan and his family to your prayer-list and prayer-chains.

Only a miracle will suffice.

"I called upon Your name, O Lord, out of the depths [of the mire] of dungeon.  You heard my voice [then]; O hide not Your ear [now] at my prayer for relief.  You drew near on the day I called to You; You said, Fear not." Lamentations 3:55-57.

  Daily-IMPACT speaks to this need today.  To follow the progress of Caelan, you can check Alan's updates at Downshore-Drift.

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]