SelahV Today by hariette petersen

Missing in Action...by Hariette Petersen

Yeah... I know.  I haven't been writing much of anything here.  Well, I've been a bit covered up with various stuff going on.  Doctors, doctors, doctors.  Surgery on my eyelids, then tests to rule out some other serious health issues-- no ovarian cancer... that's good.  Praise the LORD, so far so good on the tests.  One more set of results to hear and then I'm in the clear.  I think.  Nothing more till cataract surgery next year.  Maybe.  Plans are curious things.  By now I thought my eyes would be all healed up.

Eyelids are healing but got a bit further to go by the feel of things.  Woke up last night with water pouring down my cheeks.  Don't know why they do that, but they do.  And all day today, it felt like rocks were in one of my eyes. Wonder if they are always going to feel numb... hmmn.  The blurred vision due to the ointment was the worst and part of why I've been AWOL here.  I couldn't concentrate long enough to write much.  I know.  Excuses, excuses.  My son-in-law went through Ranger training with a piece of wood stuck in his eye.  What a wimp I am.  We now know why I never joined the Army.

Been trying to get my flowers planted amid extreme back pain and battling Oklahoma winds (actually more like gales).  Nearly impossible for me.  I have a problem with dirt flying in my face and getting into my incision.  Finally got the majority of them planted.  Probably just in time for the grasshoppers to devour them.  Praying that is not the case. I remember last year that they were so thick my granddaughter wouldn't walk 12 feet from her door to mine. They jumped all over her. (Check out the bug-eyes here/link).  I couldn't even have a few geraniums.  They ate them up.  In fact they ate holes in my window screens.... disgusting insects.  I killed two tiny babies on my steel siding today; one was green and other was brown.   So it may be the prelude.  With all the rain we are getting today and that which is forecasted for the weekend, we may see them multiply.  Hope it drowns them.  Evil I am.

Then, on Monday, I had a problem with Typepad hosting this website. It crashed and when it did, so did my site and every site on the internet hosted by them. They had some kind of attack on their DDos.  Whatever that is.  I'm no techy.  Scared me.  Thought it was possible that I'd lose all my data.  I finally went to Twitter and found out that they were battling like crazy to get everything back ship-shape.  And they assured me that all my data was still there.  That made me rest easier.  I had to write an entirely new column for my newspaper editor though.  The one I'd already had ready to go was stuck in the Typepad blog I set up for Common Matters.  So, as it turned out, I just wrote about what happened with the crash instead of what I had planned to send to my editor.  Missed my deadline by a smidgeon but my dear editor was more than understanding and held my space.  Best news on that little plan that went awry, is that my post for this week is already set to be submitted on Monday.

  Yay me!

This whole fiasco and the other interruptions and obstacles I faced with my plans showed me a couple of things.  Firstly: God still has everything under control, even though inconveniences and difficulties arise.  He's got it all figured out and says:

"For I know the plans I have for you”—this is the Lord’s declaration—“plans for your welfare, not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11

So, even though my eyes have caused a lot of trouble with writing and even though my website was inaccessible, God had a plan.  And I just executed it.  He gave me grace to write a new column, albeit not the perfect one.  AND, secondly:

He showed me something in the scare of losing all my writing data and the threat of other health issues.  I have a book with 29 chapters completed.  Not only do I need another back-up plan for all my data, and thousands of articles and photos, I need to finish that book that sits waiting for me to complete.  That which I've committed myself to write needs to be written.  I need to stop dilly-dallying around.

So, I'll try not to be so busy with my plans that I let the wheels fall off the cart the Lord has given me to push.  His plans are definitely better than mine.  He teaches me this lesson every single day.  When will I ever learn?

Other Plans Thwarted then Blessed

When God Restores What We Have Lost /link (happy ending from invasion of the grasshoppers)

My girlfriend keeps grasshoppers under control. She has guineas that eat the creepy monsters. If I got guineas, our dogs would eat them. Food chain- gotta love that plan.

BEWARE of Disney Channel

It's no longer fit for children to view.  I can no longer trust Disney at all.  If they do it once, they'll do it again and again and again.  I fully expect they are not far from producing an animated movie with a princess meets princess and prince meets prince where they kiss and everyone lives happily every after.  Everyone but me.

When my granddaughters wanted to watch Good Luck Charlie, I sat and watched it with them.  It was (and I do mean "was"), another one of those shows I could sit through and point out moral values.  I could also address how selfish, insecure and self-centered the mother, Amy, was in the show-- how she is always upstaging her children. She is made to seem lovable and quite comical with how she interferes, but it's plain to me that she wants what she wants and is going to show her kids up in every situation possible-- even one episode where she tries to steal her toddler's artwork and use it as her own.  It's a rather demeaning view of women in general and I do hope my granddaughters do not grow up to be anything like her.  HOWEVER...

that's not the issue that broke the proverbial camel's back for eliminating this show and every other Disney show from my television viewing. NOPE.

I could use her shenanigans to point to the better characteristics of my granddaughters' own family units and how their mother was sacrificial and nothing like Charlie's mom.  Her kids are always getting into one silly predicament after another but in the end, they work things out in ways that show a better way of doing "life" in general. Until now.

Enter the lesbians.
“This particular storyline was developed under the consultancy of child development experts and community advisors,” a spokesperson for Disney Channel said when the casting was first announced in June 2013. “Like all Disney Channel programming, it was developed to be relevant to kids and families around the world and to reflect themes of diversity and inclusiveness.” for entire story.

Yeah. Disney has decided it is "relevant" to introduce the two lesbian women to the show to force-feed their view of "inclusiveness and diversity".  Thus, it is quite clear to me that Disney no longer wants my granddaughters to view their station with Good Luck Charlie-- or any other show.  If they feel it is their responsibility to force feed that trash and perversion down my throat in their shows, then my only recourse is to boycott all Disney programming.  No more movies. No more television channel.  I will henceforth be playing cards with my grandchildren when they come over. 

We'll go back to jigsaw puzzles, Monopoly, Candyland and matchgames.  We'll do pick-up sticks, Yahtzee and Scrabble. We'll bake cookies and pies and cupcakes. And I'll be reading Little House on the Prairie, as well as watching the reruns of the shows.

Disney and other shows seek to infiltrate our lives with their constant barrage of shows and unacceptable perversions. While only 9% of the country is supposedly homosexual and lesbian, our entire country is suppose to not only bake them wedding cakes and tolerate their behavior-- we are to accept it as normal and pure.  It is not. It is not normal.  It is not natural. It is not pure. It is against all things holy and as long as I have breath I will state the Biblical view of that as well as the Biblical view of fornication and adultery and every other sin which God directs us to repent of and turn away from.  I will do whatever I can do to protect my grandchildren from seeing the perversion of society as normal. I will not subject myself to the promotion of all things of God as evil or intolerant.

I don't watch filthy awards shows, nor do I condone sexually driven commercials.  I no longer eat at Burger King or Carl's Jr.  I dropped my Go-Daddy domain names. I refuse to watch shows that write in political views that denounce all things conservative or Christian...bye bye Law and Order and Chicago Fire.

I am constantly turning off the television set--or switching the channel--it's ridiculous.  I rarely go to a movie.  Even Saving Mr. Banks failed to draw me to the box office.  Why?  Because one of the most liberal-supportive actors in Hollywood was the star of that show-- Tom Hanks.  I won't give him another dime to push his liberal agendas down my throat by donating to his political party. I know I'm nobody in the scheme of things.  I know my 9 bucks means nothing to their billions.  But I will not bow down to Baal.  That is what I do every single time I watch a movie or listen to a song any of these people produce.  I'm done.  So "Good Luck Charlie and Disney.  I'm through with you.  selahVtoday by Hariette Petersen

Purpose, Plan and Discovery

"In almost everything that touches our everyday life on earth, God is pleased when we're pleased. He wills that we be as free as birds to soar and sing our maker's praise without anxiety."~A.W. Tozer

Okay.  I think I've got this. I have a purpose and the only thing on my writing agenda this year is to meet new folks God brings across my pathway via internet or real life touchy-feeling five-sense happenstances. Take all those and write about them according to how God predestines the consequences of the choices I make in follow-through, avoidance, or neglect.  Then feel free to be me and be happy because when I am happy, God is happy. That is (and this is a slight difference of opinion between me and Tozer), unless what pleases me is totally out of sync with God's pleasure. Then...

ain't nobody gonna be pleased.  That's a fact.  And I can fly to whatever heights I want but if I fail to recognize the everyday touches of God in every situation... I'm gonna get my wings clipped.  Then, I'm gonna need time-out in the prayer closet or a Xanax for sure.

 "But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you." Matthew 6:33

I've had an interesting day. Tweeting. Facebooking. A trip to Red Lobster where I held open the bathroom door for a little old man who'd obviously had a stroke and couldn't get into the men's room because the door was so heavy he could barely inch his way through while trying to hold the door ajar.  I used my cane to push it open so he could pass through. Afterwards I returned to the table and had my husband go back and check on the little old man so he could get out of the restroom.  One good "happenstance" of the day. We also made a quick stop at Lowe's to purchase a hundred lightbulbs that the government is banning in the U.S.A.  Had some very interesting followers on Twitter... got some good advice about writing. And well, this is a teensy part of where I'm ending my day. I didn't follow all of David Swindle's points for getting this post on the screen, however, tomorrow I'm buying me a new journal and a shiny set of colored markers. Then I'm going to go back and copy down David's ten rules and try and see how many I can master by the end of the month. Who knows?  I could end up with a book by the end of 2014?  All that aside, I do know one thing: I can say without one doubt, I am singing my Maker's praise without anxiety.  Should sleep well tonight. Hope you do, too. selahV by hariette petersen

NOTE--TO ALL MY WRITER & WANNABE WRITER FRIENDS OUT THERE: Loved this article by David Swindle, Associate Editor at PJMedia. You'll like it too if you want to get serious about writing. I learned a bunch of stuff from his piece as he spliced and diced it on his Twitter account/link.  Worth following there, too.  Believe me.

FREE to Choose

He escaped again.  For some reason, of late, Snappy the Red-eared Slider was no longer happy in his aquarium on my granddaughter's dresser.  He wasn't satisfied with greeting their fingers as soon as they came near his glass case.  It was so cute to watch him tread water and open his mouth the moment he saw their fingers with dried food squiggles.

Snappy began his life with Abby and Brooklyn, when they were just three and seven and he was little more than the size of a quarter.  (A story I've shared before.)

Snappy was instrumental in adding to my older granddaughter, Brooklyn's faith when she was just 7.  She and Abby were playing with him one day.  As children are common to do, they got distracted by something else, and forgot about leaving Snappy on her bed.  When they remembered, he'd simply disappeared.  They searched and searched for him.  Brooklyn was devastated.  She was certain their dog, Allie, had found him and eaten or killed him.  She was so worried she called me.  I assured her that her chihuahua had not eaten Snappy and said I'd pray about it. Within a few minutes, she called back and told me her mother had found Snappy beneath the bed in the corner of the wall.  Immediately she announced that she knew it was God, because she had just prayed that they'd find him and her mother came out and announced she had.

FAST-FORWARD Seven Years:

Snappy recently became rather testy about his environment.  He wasn't happy to stay in the plastic rectangle tub my granddaughter, Abby, had placed him in to await daily visits and water-changes and feedings.  He wanted more.  He wanted to explore the carpet. She'd taken him out of his larger aquarium because it was getting dirty too quickly and very difficult to keep clean.  Snappy had grown closer to the size of an I-Hop pancake and his water got dirty much faster than when he was tiny.  Again and again he'd escape and Abby would find him trying to climb her bookshelves.  Did he want to read?

About two months ago, Abby called and asked me if I thought they should let him go free into the turtle-friend pond near her home or if I wanted him.  I thought seriously about it.  I did want to keep him...but, I asked which she thought would be better for Snappy.  She chose freedom.  Thus a couple of weeks ago--when I arrived to pick-up Abby for a weekend visit--she wanted to know if we could take him to the turtle-pond that very day.  It was a beautiful day in Texas.  I took my camera and we fed Snappy some food. We placed the large plastic rectangle bin into an empty Huggies diaper box to avoid the slosh of water onto my car's carpet.

Emotions warred within me, as Abby battled her own when we got to the park.  I was tickled that Abby and Brooklyn saw the wisdom in letting Snappy go to live free in their town's public pond.  Yet sadness and sentimentality claimed a portion of my heart as she held his tub and stared at him.  After all we'd shared life with Snappy for a very long time.  During those nearly 7 years, the girls had diligently cared for him and watched him grow--just as I had watched them grow.  We researched red-earred sliders at one point and discovered he could live for 50 years, or more.  Because we found him in my daughter's swimming pool, hardly two months after their daddy had died, I think we all kinda connected the two events.

We did exactly what my son would have done, had he been alive when they found him squirming to get out of the pool's filter-drain.  We rescued him and vowed to protect him from the world.

At this phase of Snappy's life, I imagine Chad would have built a tiled pond in their back yard, so Snappy could grow happily.  He would have gone turtle hunting and brought Snappy some friends.  Alas, he wasn't here to build the tile-pond--or to find him friends.  So, we did the next best thing.  I really didn't want Abby to know the melancholy feelings surging within me as we went through motions of Snappy's release.  I made it a great event.  We chatted about how wonderful a life he'd now have with his new-found freedom.  She told me how clean the pond was because the park-attendants came and cleaned it near the fountain in the center of the pond all the time.  She got excited thinking about Snappy meeting other turtles, but wondered if they'd be friendly or mean.  I assured her that they would be happy to welcome him into their world.  Who wouldn't love Snappy?  I told her he'd meet a lady turtle and probably have baby turtles.  She'd return to the park some day and see Snappy again with his happy family.

My assurance carried a double meaning for my sweet granddaughter.  You see, she is moving soon.  Away from the home she's known since she lost her daddy.  She'll have to make new friends in a new school.  She wonders how they will treat her, too.  I am sure all these thoughts were rolling around through her mind, and heart, as she prepared to release her green friend into a strange new world.

Abby gave Snappy his last meal at the park.  He ate it all before she showed him his new domain.  She placed him on the ground near the edge of the pond and he sat there a moment, then took off faster than lightning into the water.  He moved so quickly my camera seized and I missed the shot of him scooting into the pond.  At first he popped his head up from beneath the water's surface as if to say thankyou and good-bye.  I barely blinked before he dove and submerged himself in the mucky water below.  I took some pictures of where he burrowed, barely visible, into the pond's muck.  His color matched that of the muddy bottom.  Abby dumped some turtle food on the ground near his entry point, and we took a few more photos.  As we walked away, the ducks came up and began eating Snappy's food.  Abby protested.  I assured her that God gave Snappy special instincts to know how to get food from the muck in his world. "He'll provide him food and friends and a happy time."

Abby chattered on and on about this and that while we drove the hour from Texas back to Oklahoma for the weekend.  I couldn't help but smile and think how my son was in his new Heavenly home.  I felt he was probably cheering us on as Snappy raced into the water and Abby learned a lesson in love.  If you love someone, you want the best for them--even when our choices are hard for us to bear.  Just as we were free to keep or release Snappy, God gave us the freedom to hold onto him and keep him all to ourselves, or let him go to live in a world where he'd be happier and free to be all he was purposed to be.  I think we chose the right path, don't you?  selahV  [Click on photos to enlarge.]

I Am Sure Glad God Loves Me, Because

I am a bit dissapointed in myself.

I know some folks think the human race is totally and completely depraved, but I don't.  I believe if I were totally and completely depraved, then I would never entertain a single thought of praise, or acknowledge the Hallowed Holiness of the Most High God. A depraved soul does not hear the convicting voice of the Shepherd.  A depraved soul is a soul without kindness, without goodness, without mercy, love, or peace.  I have those things.  I exhibit those things...and to be clear, it's not because I am some goody-two-shoes who walks around toting my bag of benevolence and purity, either.  It's not because I wear a cross, or get dressed up on Sunday morning and go to church while others mow lawns, pack golf-bags in their trunks, or snooze till they feel like getting up and beat me to Cracker Barrel to have their breakfast while I order lunch.

I have virtuous characteristics and exhibit them because Jesus saved me from myself and gave me new life in Him.  In Him I am not depraved; I am holy.  In Him I am pure and complete. In Him I am righteous.  Yet I do get a bit weary looking in my mirror and seeing a chubby face staring back at me.  She's a feeble-minded ding-dong at times.  She disappoints me to no end.  But, still, there's hope.  She's sanctified, set aside, blood-bought and worthy to stand in the sight of God, and bow before the King of Kings.  Her life is secure...her destiny certain.  And for that I am so very grateful.

However...I get tired of seeing her fleshly carnality rear its ugly head.

Yesterday a salesman (actually he looked about 18), came to my door.  He smiled great big and handed me a pretty hot-pink laminated card that described what he was, uh, not selling.  Kirby vacuums.  He said he wasn't selling them; he just wanted to demonstrate it on one of my carpeted rooms.  I explained I had no carpets to clean and I was moving anyway, and would only have concrete floors.  He continued.  I interrupted.  He broke in and continued his rehearsed spiel.  After telling him I wasn't interested for the umpteenth time, I asked him if he understood what the word no meant.  He got this really defeated look on his face that pierced my heart, but pressed on with a "but..I...".

I broke in, "I don't think you do, but you'd do well to find out before you go to another house.  At least then you wouldn't waste your time or theirs."

It was one of those "gotcha" moments when I didn't need a mirror to see the ugly image coated in soot.  I saw her in his undeserved chastened woeful expression.  Whatever that young fella felt from my rebuke was immediately reflected back into the eye of my soul.  Hardly in keeping with "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." Matthew 5:16

I closed the door and returned to writing checks and paying bills.  The moment my husband came in the door that evening I blurted, "I made a jerk of myself today."  I related the story and confessed the unkindness, the rudeness, and spiteful attitude I exhibited.  I'd already told my heavenly Father I was sorry.

That poor young man was only doing what a lot of people wouldn't do today.  Instead of protesting and occupying Wall Street, he was doing the best he could.  He was going door-to-door, trying to sell a reputable product in a astronomically depressed economy.  It occurred to me that he would probably have received some kind of stipend for demonstrating the vacuum, even if I never purchased it.  I'd have a clean carpet, and he'd make a little money.  So what would I be out?  An hour of my time.  And to be honest, that time is not mine.  It belongs to God.

After the young man left, I let my mind play out the what ifs:

What if I was his last straw?

What if I was the person who could make his day?

What if my "yes" was the blessing God wanted to give him in a discouraging day?

What if I were the answer to a prayer he'd uttered?

What if...what if he were an angel?

What if he wasn't, and during the demonstration, I had shared Jesus with him? 

I know God knows what I did.  He knew before that young man came to my door what I'd do.  And at this moment, I share my ugly truth with you in hopes to help you avoid a similar event.  Just think if you don't do what I did, and you are the one who shows the fruit of the Spirit God so liberally gives you.  Just think what He could do with that.  Like I said earlier, I am glad God loves me.  He still has a plan for my life.  He's not finished with me yet.  It's not easy to admit the ugly part of myself.  But I am more than my flesh and blood.  I am a child of God.  He is my Heavenly Father and He loves me so very much.  I won't dwell any longer on my haughty-taughty attitude and the smut that skewed the Life of Christ within me.  I will commit my way unto the Lord and do my best to heed the Spirit within me, this day.  Hopefully, my confession helps you in some way...to help another in some way...today.  selahV

BLINDED TO BLOSSOMS

I noticed the lone surviving lavendar plant from the twelve I had planted (5 years ago). It had wild morning glories twisting its way amongst its purple stems--what a stranglehold it had.  I'd seen the daisies clustered behind my pecan trees, but their presence did not bring the usual excitement typical for me.  From my kitchen window, I barely gave a glance to the array of giant Foxgloves growing by the fence.  A smile...a nod of praise to the Lord for their perennial presence in my life.  Scripture came to mind..."Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." Luke 12:27

Yeah, Lord; I know.  But lilies don't have chronic back pain, I reasoned.  And lilies don't outgrow their attire.  And lilies don't get bronchitis.  And lilies don't have company coming and have a tub to scour and tables to dust. 

Recent weeks of pain had robbed me of enthusiasm.  Oklahoma's sweltering heat discouraged a walk outside.  A messy neglected house simply did not deserve a bouquet to grace the dining-room table cluttered with bills, books and my grandchildren's art renderings. Thoughts of company coming this weekend and the need to clean my home gave little room for musing about the backyard.  All I saw was the need to mow the lawn, the desire to secure my hammock before my friend arrived on Saturday.  Then...

...then my granddaughters came to visit.  They skittered to the patio doors and spotted the giant multi-colored foxgloves.  Maroon, magenta, peach, and pink.  They saw the purple Rose of Sharon.  The "oohs and aahs" punctuated the air with awe and wonder.

"Grama, did you know you had flowers out there?" Haylee informed me. "Can we pick some?"  Within moments she and Kinsey emptied a basket of its wooden blocks and found their scissors and headed out the door.  Normally, I would grab my camera and follow them.  Yesterday I simply slid the door closed to keep out the flies and bees and headed back to my recliner, grabbed a tissue and waited out my three-minute coughing spasm.  My head hurt.  My chest hurt.  My stuffy nose leaked out of my eyes as tears covered my cheeks.

I sat there thinking how little I cared about flowers.  But how wonderfully warm and soothing it felt to have my granddaughters visiting.  Their mom had kept them at bay for days because I'd been feeling so lousy.  And now, their enthusiasm and joy touched a need inside me I had not realized was there.  I knew the girls would soon bounce through the doors with their basket of glory, so I got up and went to the kitchen and filled a clear bowl with water.  I went back to my recliner, blew my nose and waited.

Before the afternoon was over we'd had a teaparty, sat cuddled together watching Popeye and Ben Ten, drank hot chocolate and talked about Vacation Bible School coming up next week.  Haylee was particularly excited.

"I can hardly wait.  We are going exploring.  It won't be like when we went to Australia and saw the animals, or the other year when we, uh...I can't remember now, but we are going to some place new."

"I think you are going to New York this year," I informed.

"WHAT!  Wow, that will be fun!  That's where the big buildings are, and...", and on and on she exolled all she knew about New York City.  "But we don't really go there," she reminded me, "we just explore it in pretend."

I thought about that precious moment.  The wonder of a child.  The expectations. Life.  Joy oozed out of every pore.  Kinsey was caught up in the excitement even though she had no idea why.  Joyous memories of past VBS explorations thrilled Haylee and provoked undiluted positive anticipation.  Oklahoma's heat didn't matter.  Insects didn't matter.  And I'm certain if she had a Summer cold, it would not matter.  Life was a bouquet of grandeur and a rainbow of promise.

Oh, to be young again.  Oh, to let my spirit ride the wings of butterflies and bumble bees.

Later, when the chatter, the joy and the busyness of two little girls surrendered to the stillness of the house, I could not help but stop and try to smell the blossoms in the middle of my dining room table. I'd been all but blinded to the array of maroon, magenta, purple and pink blossoms before my granddaughters came to visit.

"From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise because of your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger." Psalm 8:2

What a blessing to have the lips of children.  The hope in their hearts.  God knew this day would come when Satan tried to rob me of health, to blind me to the blessings of His glory.  God knew that when each seed from every flower in my backyard died last fall and burst forth in new life this Spring that the girls would come and marvel at their splendor.  God knew they'd offer praise because of the enemies in my life--weariness, illness, and depression.  He knew.  And so He prepared for this day for me to see the blossoms of His love.

How about you?  Do you see Him today?  I hope so.

PRAYER:  Lord, give those who are weary.  Those who are blinded by the sin of life.  Those who cannot lift their eyes.  Give them a child to come and show them the way...to offer praise for Your goodness...to remind them of Your watchcare and to silence the foe and avenger in their lives.

drum roll, please... My EARTH DAY Contribution...

In honor of Earth Day my granddaughters and I recycled clothespins into caterpillars, un-used coffee filters into wings.  The glory of new life came to marker-colored filters being spritzed with water.  As water touched their coloring, glorious fusions of brilliance appeared.  Just as they struggled to make their crafts, I told them how butterflies struggle to get out of their cocoons.  So they have freedom to fly.

I taught my granddaughters about new life in Christ by way of creepy caterpillars turning into beautiful delicate butterflies.  Girls hate caterpillars...creepy creatures.  Girls love butterflies.  Fascinating creatures.

Ironically, in the center of this filter, Kinsey drew a heart (Haylee's is upside down below); and that heart ends up being the very center of the butterfly we create.  Ya gotta love how God brings all things together for His purpose and plans, sometimes.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new." 2 Corinthians 5:17 NKJV

When we place our faith in Christ, we become new.  We get new life.  We are born again.  We died to the old life and rise to walk in the newness of our life in Jesus.  selahV

To see HOW we gave these filters NEW LIFE visit my

KIDS' MATTERS BLOGSITE.

YES...that means you need to click on the link and go see how cute these little gals are as they diligently create their butterflies and give them new life.  There's more to the next post than meets the eye.  So...c'mon over and check it out.  Try it!  You'll like it!

When We Fail

It's hard to admit failure sometimes--even to ourselves.  We tend to want to explain the circumstances surrounding our failure.  We are tempted to take the sting out of our mistakes by giving facts and, sometimes embellishments, to paint a brighter picture than pure honesty reveals. 

It's strange when you think about it.  The Bible is full of those accounts.  From beginning to end, we see the warts of all the saints later listed in the book of Hebrews as examples of faith.  Yet, today, most folks have trouble simply apologizing for a simple wrong, an irritated mood, impulsive action, or critical spirit.  It's tough to confess bitterness we cannot purge from our hearts, a judgmental attitude we embrace because of it.  It's just so hard for people to say I'm sorry and ask to be forgiven.  Unfortunately, most times that's because we know forgiveness is not easily given or received.

Jacob felt that way when he fearfully returned to meet Esau, the brother he'd wronged after stealing their father's blessing through deceit and scheming. They both lived years and years in estrangement and brokenness.  When Jacob humbled himself before God, he met Esau and there was no problems.  Esau hugged him and forgave him. (Gen. 32)

"Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up." James 4:10 NKJV

It's difficult to open up our lives and expose less admirable events in our past, to let the world see we are less than we want to be seen.  It takes a humble person to simply admit a wrong, then grow from it.  I think it takes a virtuous woman to bring glory to God by sharing what she learns from her mistakes.  Amy Carroll is 'that kinda of gal" as she writes devotions and speaks to help encourage others. 

It also takes a meek man to admit an error of judgment the moment the Holy Spirit quickens his spirit to see an area in need of correction. It's refreshing to read where he yields his pride to Christ's control and allows Him to change the direction of his witness.  Brian McMillen is "that kinda guy".  Rather than let a weak moment be his own little secret, he shared it on his blog.  [*see Amy's and Brian's posts below.]

How about you?  Have you made an error in judgment?  Do you wish you could hit replay on a moment of your life?  Is there someone you know who needs your encouragement, who needs a pat on the back, a hand up, or hand outstretched?

If you see yourself somewhere in this post--perhaps just a mediator for another's relationship--I pray God gives you courage to deal with it, wisdom to counsel, and abundant compassionate  love to express. If you are hurting because you have not forgiven yourself for past mistakes, I pray you're able to turn it all over, let it go, then live in the righteousness of Christ without regret.   selahV

POSTS WORTH READING:

STAY by *Amy Carroll ~~~ THAT KINDA GUY by Brian McMillen

I Don't Feel Like It

Kinsey and Haylee trashed (what we commonly refer to as), the "girls' room".  It's a  combination guest room for when my son's girls come from Texas for the weekend.  Kinsey decided to carpet the bedroom with all the books on their bookshelves.  Then Haylee cleaned out the closet and made it into a store (so all the toys in there came out onto the floor, too). They made a tent out of the bunkbeds.  Then they took a big box and headed to the kitchen to shop for merchandise for their bedroom "store".  Suffice it to say, "the girls' room" looks like an Oklahoma tornado blew through.  When I told the girls that they needed to clean up their messes before their mom came, they both pointed to the other as the one to blame and said the same thing:  "I don't feel like it."

I understand.  I make lots of messes and don't feel like cleaning them up.  However, sometimes we gotta do what we don't wanna do.

I kinda think our world is like "the girls' room".  We all like to play in it, but when we make a mess of it, we don't wanna clean it up.  Our lives are like that, too.  We do our own thing and saturate ourselves with those things which please us, but when we start carrying box-loads of kitchen stuff into the bedroom, we discover it's not quite as much fun to carry it back.  We yank all the order from our lives and spread it out in places it doesn't belong and then we don't want to bow down and get things straight.  We, like Kinsey and Haylee, want to blame the others for the mess we make of things.  We just don't feel it.

It takes too much effort to sort through the cause and root of a problem.  It takes too much time to undo what we've done.  It looks like a disasterous mess and we would rather just move to another room and forget about it.  We don't want to accept responsibilty for our part in the mess we make.  It's easier to point fingers, walk away and move on to another room.  The only problem is, if you haven't changed the way you play, you wind up making a mess of the next room, too.  Therefore, sometimes you gotta do what you don't feel like doing.

My daughter came over and helped the girls lug the "groceries" back into the kitchen.  She helped them place the books back on the shelves.  She guided them in putting the toys back in the closet, and straightening up the living room.  She didn't do it all for them.  But she let them take her yoke upon them and carried the heaviest part of their load.  Just like Jesus does for us.

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:29

NOTE TO SELF, By Hariette Petersen

ONE CAN BE BLESSED BY PROJECTS BEYOND IMAGINATION

It's amazing what blessings one can accumulate when vigilantly observing one's grandchildren.  I went to Texas to get my son's girls, Brooklyn and Abby, on Friday.  I never know what I am in for when I pick them up.  This weekend they each shared impending deadlines they faced at school on Tuesday.  Brooklyn needed to put together a Rube Goldberg project (huh?) with at least five steps that ended with a constructive conclusion.  When she announced this I said, "A what?"

"Rube Goldberg."  Honestly?  I had to google that one.  When I did, I found a bevy of complicated movements of balls and levers bouncing and plopping to create a complex series of events.  Books and dominoes fell down.  Little cars scooted across ramps and light bulbs turned off and on.  I passed the buck.

"Guess you'll have fun with your parents coming up with that, huh?"  No such luck.  Brooklyn sat and brainstormed ideas on what to do and how to make it happen.  She settled on a heavy ball dropping into a cup which, in turn, lifts a tissue out of a tissue box.  My little genius of a granddaughter was undaunted in how to make this occur.  She just needed help putting it together.  She listed the litany of materials she needed us to contribute.  The entire project was her idea, right down to the first step being a marble to roll out of a wire bingo-machine.  Tunnel down a paper tube, drop onto another tube cut into a trough, then against a wooden wall, ricocheting into another tube with enough force to emerge onto a block of wood with a carefully placed domino that knocks a heavy brass ball into a Styrofoam cup.  The cup drops and pulls a string and the string pulls a tissue out of the box with a clamp.

Each and every step required testing the marble's pathway to ensure the correct placement of the next step.  At one point the marble wanted to bounce out over the wall of the trough-like tubing, but Brooklyn bent it inward so it flowed through with ease.  It was an amazing project and great trial-and-error learning experience with our 6th-grade granddaughter.  Her cousin said, "I'm a senior in high-school and never had to do such a complicated assignment!"

It was so wonderful to have my husband there to help saw, nail, drill, staple, and screw the pieces of her project together.  Brooklyn directed every step and was thrilled when she saw her imagined invention complete its task.  We all learned something.  I learned:

--That it's great to have a curious neighbor across the street who comes over to see what you're building in your driveway, and has an endless supply of items to create nutty contraptions.

--It's super to have a patient husband who will screw and unscrew and re-screw eye-screws to help Brooklyn get her string in just the right place to lift her intended target.

--Good teachers really do want to help our children think outside the box of routine and facts when they come up with assignments to stretch their learning experience.

--Parents enjoy the fruit of grandparents' labor, loyalty, patience and ingenuity in assisting them in raising their children.

--Grandparenting is not just fun and games, candy bars and video viewing.  It takes real wisdom, intellect, and problem-solving skills to do our job.  So glad we had 40 years to learning these skills.

--Nothing can quite compare to the joy you see on a granddaughter's face when a difficult assignment is finished and you are responsible for assisting her in its completion.

We took her yoke upon us.  We were quick to listen and slow to speak.  We rejoiced in the Lord and marveled in His ability to help us do all things through Him.  selahV

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Reckless Words are like Poop

Lately my little 3-year-old granddaughter finds it rather funny to say the word "poop".  A few days ago we were eating beef and broccoli at the mall and she was giggling and saying it as if she were saying "pass-the-salt".  So I reproved her.  Yesterday she needed a reminder.  I explained to her that you don't talk about "poop" at the dining-room table.  She asked the inevitable why?  I said "because you only say "poop" when you are in the bathroom or need to tell mommy or me that you need to go to the bathroom.  And then you should whisper it."

"Why?"

"Because it is not polite."  She didn't quite understand that word either; I tried another.  "It's rude."  She looked puzzled.  "It isn't nice, and makes other people sick when they are eating."

"Oh."

"There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing." Proverbs 12:18 ESV

Certain words conjure up vivid images in our minds.  Just as my granddaughter's word conjures up rather unappetizing thoughts at the dinner-table, other words conjure up images that bespeak volumes about situations, personalities, and character.  Some words should not be spoken--or even mulled over in our minds.  They are only used to create hurt, incite anger and produce feelings of harm.  Many words should be deleted from our posts before we hit the "publish" button.  In fact, should we be writing about others--their doctrine, their viewpoints, their ideas, their personhood, their writings--I have learned it is best if we spend more time editing than creating our colorful prose before posting it on the world-wide-web.  It is something all writers should do--especially Christians.  After all, "rash words are like sword thrusts". 

Unfortunately some people take pleasure in plunging swords and twisting the blade once it enters the gut.  Other folks find writers who draw such swords funny, witty, and worthy of claiming best friends.  But then, some do not even flinch when others bring "poop" to the dinner table, either. Writing sheathed with such intent bring these words to my mind:  Sickening.  Blood-spattered.  Gall-soaked.  Thorn-piercing.  Sad.

Therefore...

I believe what comes out of my granddaughter's mouth says alot about the character of her heart.  I want her to guard her heart from evil thinking that rests within it.  I try to follow Christ and the pattern my daughter teaches her children.  I want to undergird those values and virtues.  So I try to teach my granddaughter the appropriate usage of words--that if she can't say something nice, she shouldn't say anything at all.  I also find it imperative to check my own words, usage and motive.  While I find much of the political correctness we see in the world today is bogus over-sensitivity, I do believe words matter.  Especially, the intent of words.  My words are my testimony.  I believe what comes from me, says more about me, than what my words say about others.  At the end of some days, I have not liked what my words say about me and my heart.  I make no claim to wisdom, but I really do want my words to bring healing to others.  How about you?  Rash or wise?  Which scale is heavier today?  selahV

STUBBORN DOGS

So, I am babysitting a friend's dogs this week.  I've done this before so I didn't foresee any problems.  Presumptuous of me.  Katie didn't want to eat on Wednesday.  I assume she was mad at her owners because they dared go on a holiday without her.  I finally got her to eat by hand feeding her some of the dog food.  Her companions (two cocker-poodles) decided they wanted to be hand-fed, too.  Spoiled stubborn dogs.

The first evening, they didn't want to come into the house for the night.  Katie wouldn't come near me.  You'd think I was a complete stranger (she'd forgotten I fed her that morning).  She literally would not come close to the house.  If I moved toward her, she'd back away.  The little cockers kept running back and forth, in and out of the doorway and I couldn't get any of them to come in and stay.  So, I took some handy dandy dog biscuits and coaxed the cockers inside.  Katie wasn't buying my friendship.  She stood aloof.  Far away from the patio. She didn't know me well enough to trust me, I suppose.  Finally, I threw her a dog-biscuit.  She ate that one, then came closer for the next one.  Then I finally got her close enough to grab her collar. She followed right along with me. 

By the time I had them all corralled, gave them their peanut-butter and cracker treat for the night, I was plum worn out.  That next morning, I spent a great deal of time, petting, and pampering them.  I even went so far as to feed the cockers by hand.  One piece of food at a time until they began eating what was in their bowls.  Last night they came right inside the house.  They eagerly ate their treats and settled down at my feet. 

I considered how God works in our lives like that.

He wants to give us food, and we walk away or turn up our noses at His offerings.  We don't want any of that stuff.  We stay far enough out of His reach that He has to use a bevy of techniques to gain our trust in Him.  He wants the very best for us but we, in our stubbornness, remain aloof.  We can't trust Him...we don't know Him well enough.  He knows we are not comfortable with this new situation in our lives.  He knows what we need to bring us closer--to build a better relationship with Him.  The more we get to know Him, the easier it is to come to Him for sustaining grace and provision for our souls.  Sometimes He simply lets us go to ourselves till we are so hungry for what He has, we surrender.  God is patient enough to wait till we grow confident in our relationship to turn to Him in faith.  He does not force Himself upon us.  He wants us to rely on Him, trust in Him, and let Him care for us as He sees best.

Do you have someone in your life who stands aloof?  at a distance, wary--but still staring, watching from the peripheral edges of your life?  How do you reach someone like this? selahV    

MOTHER'S DAY MAGNETS, 4 Easy Steps

So I had the girls over and we made "mommy" magnets.  Below are photos of materials needed and step by step assembly by none other than Miss Haylee and Miss Kinsey.  They were very diligent in following directions and it was one of the simplest crafts I ever put together for them.

I used plastic bottle caps.  Stuck a round magnet on the back.  Filled the cap with Elmer's glue.  Then added the inside decorations.  *DRIED* rice, beans, split peas.

I had all the items laid out on the table before I brought in the girls.  Then I sat down in front of them and guided them through each step.  Have a damp washcloth handy to wipe those sticky fingers.

STEP 1) Remove the paper sticker off the self-stick magnet.

STEP 2) Push the sticky side of magnet onto the topside (outer side) of the bottle cap.

"Haylee; did you know that God makes beans, and peas and rice?"  (A time to teach about God's provision.)

STEP 3) Squeeze Elmer's glue into the center of the inside of the bottle cap about half-full.

 
STEP 4) Generously drop your beans, rice, and peas into the cap and press down.  Haylee got creative and added a few grains of rice to her beans and peas.  I always let them individualize their creations.  Whatever they choose to do within the bounds of the tiny space in front of them, I say "Go for it!"

"Why beans and rice, Grama?"

"Because we're making magnets for the kitchen.  And Mommy cooks with beans, and rice and peas."

"That's a good idea!"  Whew!  I'm sure glad it was a good idea.  If not, Haylee might have taken her magnets apart and began sticking in fresh daisies.

Hope you enjoy this little craft.  It's great for Sunday School craft.  It took all of 10 minutes for us to put these together. 

One bit of advice:  Have a little plastic plate beneath the space where they actually assemble their magnets.  I usually do this.  Duh, didn't this time and you can see the clean-up I had all over the table and onto the floor.  Not bad, just had to sweep.  But could be avoided with plates or trays under their bottle caps.  selahV   

[CLICK ON ANY PHOTO FOR AN ENLARGEMENT]

[Check out my KIDS' MATTERS Blog for Insights and Hindsights]

Rules? Who Needs Rules?

 

Someone hide the kids.  Cover their ears.  They are liable to get ideas from Congress.

I've been learning a lot about our country's lawmakers these days.  A lot of what I am learning is truly troublesome.  Leadership in Washington, D.C. is not concerned with rules according to one legislator in regards to the procedures of an unconstitutional health-care bill.

"There ain't no rules here, we're trying to accomplish something. . . .All this talk about rules. . . .When the deal goes down . . . we make 'em up as we go along."  Democratic Congressman Alcee Hastings.

Some folks say Hastings has no credentials to make such a statement about the principles being used in Congress.  After all, it was Hastings who was impeached and removed from the bench as a federal judge in Florida, before being elected to the House, because his judgeship was tainted with bribery charges.  That in itself might give us pause.  But the greatest irony is that a lawmaker for our country finds no reason to abide by rules (and procedures) to make the laws of our land.  Something is truly wrong with that man's reasoning ability.  If Hastings is not an indication of why there is so much disrespect for parents, teachers and authority, then nothing is.  Floridians ought to be ashamed of themselves for keeping someone of this mentality in government.  Any kindergartner would tell you that you have to follow rules.

Without rules there is no order.  Anything goes.  Nothing is below the belt.  Bribery is acceptable.  Cheating is condoned.  Lying is permissible.  Truth is unnecessary.  Honesty is useless.  And integrity is nothing.  And ultimately?  Anarchy reigns.  selahV

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SPRING BREAK BLESSINGS

Anyone who knows me knows how much I cherish my grandchildren.  Besides the obvious blessing of their mere presence in my life, I revel in the lessons they teach me.  Today we had a non-stop day of discoveries.  We practiced hunting plastic Easter eggs that Brooklyn, 12, hid for the other three girls.  Amid the frivolity of finding the most eggs, Abby stopped and shouted, "A ladybug!  A ladybug!"

Now, I ask you, what is the appeal of a ladybug?  How could that tiny little insect be such an attraction?  Right there in the middle of the first Easter egg hunt of the season--something they all find fascinating--they stop to marvel at the black-dotted orange bug.  I submit that nothing is quite as wonderful as God's creative genius.  Nothing as special as the simplicity of life.  Ladybugs are particularly special to Abby who found this one.  She believes they are a sign of good luck--a blessing from God.  Kinsey is not impressed with any kind of bug--no matter how much luck it might offer.

Want to know what placed second on the list of marvels today?

We found a lone melon seedling which sprouted from a cantaloupe seed.  There it was.  In the midst of sandy soil.  All alone.  Not another plant within twelve feet.  Oddly, it grew within one foot of the space we usually stepped on when we get out of our car.  Right by the driveway.  I was amazed it found its way to the top of that hardened crusty ground.  Five-year-old Haylee wanted to know how it got there and would it make melons.  I told her I didn't know.  "Well, I think God planted it."  I agreed and said it would probably need to be transplanted to ever amount to anything.  Three-year-old Kinsey was more concerned about its well-being.  "We need to get it some water, Grama.  It needs a dwink of water."  And so we got a cup of water and Haylee and Kinsey took turns giving it a "dwink".

Isn't that precious?  Two little girls concerned about a cantaloupe seedling that sprouted near the driveway.  They took sticks and placed them around it so no one would step on it.  As I thought about their desire to tend, water, and protect that little seeding, I thought about the church family.  Sunday night our church baptized 25 brand new born-again Christians--Seedlings in the faith of Christ.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all cared as much about those precious tender brothers and sisters as my granddaughters care about their newly-found seedling?  Wouldn't it be marvelous if all within the body of Christ saw the need to nurture, water, feed, and protect them as they grow in their faith?  I think so.  That is my prayer today.  I hope it is yours, too.  selahV

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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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A SIMPLE GOSPEL: "The Light is where Jesus Is"

HOW GOD GROWS THE FAITH OF A CHILD

Four years ago, I took my granddaughters over to my daughter's house to swim.  While looking in the pool filter drain, we found a tiny Red-eared Slider paddling around in circles.  The girls were elated.  "Can we keep him?  Please, Grama; please."  My first thought was, of course.  Hubby had some misgivings, but 8 year-old Brooklyn was so excited, it didn't take much to bend Grampa our way.

We found Snappy the year after my granddaughter had lost her daddy.  When she begged to keep the turtle, I thought of what my son would have done had he been there.  He would have gone to the pet store, gotten the best of turtle-homes, the right food and taught his little girl how to care for the turtle.  So that's what I did.  And Brooklyn took Snappy home to live at her house.

One day, Brooklyn called and told me she'd lost Snappy.  They'd been playing with him and left him on the bed when they went to eat supper.  When Brooklyn returned, she couldn't find Snappy.  She was crying.  She thought her dog had eaten him.  They looked high and low for Snappy to no avail.  I felt so bad for her.  She'd taken such good care of the turtle for months.  To some this would be a silly thing, to worry over a turtle.  But a child's pet is important to them.  Brooklyn was also mad at herself for leaving Snappy on the bed and not putting him back in his bowl.  She blamed herself for his loss.

I assured her that I didn't think Ali (her chihuahau), could have eaten Snappy. "He's probably hiding somewhere."  He was only the size of a quarter and would be easily missed on her dark brown carpet.  She couldn't grasp that in light of Snappy's absence.  "But we've looked everywhere."  I told her I'd pray for her.  A little while later, she called me back.  She was so excited.  "Grama, I prayed for God to help us find Snappy and about two minutes later, Mommy found him under the bed in the corner.  God helped us find him.  He answered my prayer."

I couldn't tell what excited her more--the fact that God answered her prayer or that Snappy was safe.  Today, when Brooklyn holds that quarter-sized Snappy in her palm, he completely covers it.  He has grown 4 times the size.  Occasionally Brooklyn will remind me of that story.  God has faithfully grown Brooklyn's faith time and time again through the years since He answered her prayer.  Snappy is just a tiny bit of visible proof for her to hold in the middle of daily difficulties.  Maybe God planned it that way from the moment we rescued Snappy from the pool drain.  Who is to say?  selahV 

DON'T IT JUST AMAZE YOU WHEN GOD SHOWS UP AND...

MANIFESTS HIMSELF IN YOUR LIFE?

Whew--ee!  The power of the Lord and His Spirit blows my mind.  I'm driving back from Texas today and my 5-year-old granddaughter is preaching to me from the back seat.  "Keep my commandments, and follow them. I am the Lord.  Leviticus 22:31."

HayJae and I had talked all the way back from visiting her two cousins.  We'd discussed all kinds of things.  What to buy her little sister for her birthday this weekend.  What she wanted for her own birthday next July.  How many days till Fall began.  How many days would Fall have.  How many days did Winter have.  How many days did Spring have.  What we'd do the next time we went to visit her cousins in Texas.  What we'd do when they came to visit us.  Could we go back tomorrow?  The car was dark.  Every now and then the sky would light up and she asked why it did that.  I shared the way lightning works.  How thunder rolls.  How God controlled it all.

Earlier that evening she sang a Fruit of the Spirit song she'd learned in church.  She had no qualms about the fact we were in the middle of IHOP restaurant.  She shared with her cousins about how Jesus got mad in the Temple and turned over the tables.  She explained to her cousins how Jesus died on the cross to take away all our sins.  And people who didn't love Him would go to Hades.  And when they went to Hades they'd burn in the fires.  (Fortunately for her cousins, they're both Christians.)  She talked about her little pink Bible and how her brother Jordy wouldn't let her use his.  "I'll have to use Mommy's."  She explained to them how Jesus went to the Temple, but we go to church...but they are the same thing.  It filled my spirit with joy unspeakable to listen to her.  I can't explain it.  THEN...we're almost home and she begins reciting scripture.    

I have no idea how many times she said that before it knocked me upside the head.  But finally I heard her.  "What are you saying, HayJae?"

"Keep my commandments, and follow them.  I am the Lord.  Leviticus 22:31"  She repeated it.  I tried to say it.  And I got it wrong.  She said, "No, Grama.  You've got to practice." She took her time and repeated:  "Keep my commandments."  She waited for me to repeat it.  I did.  "Follow them."  She waited again.  I repeated it.  "I am the Lord."  I repeated that.  "Leviticus 22:31"  I reversed the numbers.  "No, Grama.  Try again.  Levitcus 22:31"

I repeated the verse until I finally said it.  "You've got it!  Now keep practicing, Grama."  Again and again we repeated it.  But I knew it would take some time for me to truly have it memorized.  I'm really slow at that.  Yet, it was such an encouragement.  My heart filled up with incredible peace.  The world is good.  Life is good.

So much in life today is disturbing--so black--so full of sin and cruelty.  But somehow in the darkness of my Chevy Malibu, life took on freshness and Light.     

Now, folks...you tell me.  Is that not the dearest thing?  Five years old.  Teaching her grama.  Think God might be using this child?  I do.  Do you think she knows it?  I doubt it.  selahV

["And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: Acts 2:17]  

TESTING IT ALL...by SelahV

Some things just don't pass the smell test.  You know the minute a suggestion is made...within seconds of hearing someone's opinion or commentary.  You quickly know what is good and what isn't.

Many things don't have to be tested.  The Word of God is clear on many issues.  And what is not directly written in black and white can be determined by the principles of God's word.  My husband once told the youth in our church that "what they never do, they never have to ask forgiveness for."  A friend of mine once told me, "When in doubt leave it out."

There are so many folks condoning so many things these days.  Ministers disagree with ministers.  Fewer and fewer people preach purity and holiness.  Fewer teach to present ourselves as living sacrifices or consecrate ourselves to live lives "without wax" [in sincerity and truth].    

What about you?  Do you test the words you hear from others?  Do you take what a person says as truth simply because you know them or you think you know them?  Or do you search the scriptures and pray, study and test "all things"? Do you seek godly counselors?   selahV

THERE'S SOMETHING TO BE SAID FOR SUBSTITUTIONS

So Monday Haylee Jae asked if we could make cupcakes.  I said sure.  I opened the mix, and she dumped it in the bowl.  I measured out the water and oil in the cup and she poured it into the powdered mix.  Alas, I went to the fridge to get the eggs.  Opps.  Should have checked before I started the cake.  No eggs.  Uh oh.  What does a Grama do in the middle of a perfectly wonderful cooking lesson when there are no eggs to add to the mixture?  I remembered reading somewhere that we could substitute mayonaise for eggs.  One cup mayo equals 3 eggs.  Haylee wasn't convinced, especially when I put that blob of white stuff in her chocolate mix.  But she wanted the cupcakes and I hated to waste all those ingredients.  So we tried it.  The batter still tasted good, so we spooned the mixture into the paper liners and put them in the oven.  Twenty minutes later the cupcakes looked exactly like any cupcake I'd ever made.  Until... 

...I tried to take one out of the tin.  Even with their protective liners, the cakes crumbled and fell apart.  I learned a great cooking lesson.  Mayo ain't got nothing on eggs.   I can't even begin to apply icing to these fake cakes.  Now...they still taste good.  But they simply don't hold up--or together.

This brought to mind the folks in life who try to substitute personal viewpoint for biblical principles.  Intelligence for wisdom.  Good works for faith.  Temporal pleasure for eternal joy.  They may appear to work well for a season.  They may taste good.  They may satisfy the sensual appetite.  But all these things combined do not have the body necessary to hold life together.  In the final analysis, if there's something to be said about subtitutions, it's that nothing works like the Real Thing.  selahV     

FOREWARNED

Yesterday I was driving south on I-44 enroute to see my granddaughters for lunch in Texas.  At one particular overpass, in the center of the grassy divide, a black and white police car hid from people headed north .  Obviously a speed trap. I checked my cruise and was happy that it was set on the speed limit.  I didn't brake.  I checked my rearview and saw a black truck behind me.  As we drove along I noticed every time we came upon an oncoming vehicle, the driver behind me would flash his headlights.  Well, most everyone knows that a quick light-flash is "code" for traffic to slow down, speed trap ahead.  This went on for about 5 miles.  I had mixed feelings as I saw the flashing lights.  I know it was a warning.  I know the driver didn't want the folks to get caught speeding.  But I wondered.

Is this ethical?  Would you do this?  Wonder what would happen if we all went around flashing our headlights from low to high.  Think more folks would slow down out of fear of a speed trap ahead?  Even if there isn't one, it could cause folks to think, reset the cruise, or pay closer attention to their foot pressure.

This incident gave me pause to reflect as I drove on.  The Lord has given us His Word to warn us of traps ahead.  They are the ones Satan sets to catch us, to tempt us, to entice us, to bring us down.  "Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." Psalm 119:105.  God gives us all we need to protect us from entanglements in life.  As Christians He empowers us with His own Spirit to check our spirits--or flash His Light--to let us know to beware of impending problems should we decide to keep the course we are on.  Slow down, don't fall into temptation.  Be vigilant.  Put on the whole armor of God.  Has God been trying to slow you down lately?  Is there an area in your life in which you're moving too fast?  Are you pushing the pedal a bit harder than necessary to reach your goal?  Is impatience a problem?  Perhaps He is helping you develop more self-control.  selahV

[copyrighted, 2009, SelahVToday, hariette petersen]

PARKED WITH A PURPOSE

Ever said to yourself, "Whew!  I'm glad that's over!"?  Well, I can tell you that neutral is far better than park.  When you're stuck in neutral, at least you're contemplating a move.  When you're stuck in park, you might as well cut the engine, get out of the car and forget about it.  Last time I wrote on this blog, I was "stuck in neutral".  Since then, I've received several emails of encouragement as well as the few comments (it was the holidays, I didn't expect much).  Some long-time readers emailed just to see if I was okay.  Others related to my plight.

Well, God got into the mix of it and I can tell you that He will fix a transmission problem when you get all caught up in yourself and what you should do with life.  He'll clean off your cables, and discharge mechanisms of discouragement and apathy with a flick of a switch--especially when a group of His children get together and start praying for you.   

I can't even begin to share how elated I am to be sitting in front of this monitor screen right now!  While I was "stuck in neutral", I contemplated how I'd shift to "Drive" and where I'd go when I shifted.  Writing commitments.  I'd let so many slide.  Some commitments I'd made to people.  Some I'd made to God.  Those I make to people take a great deal of time and brain power.  Those I make to God take surrender and yielding, and a oneness of fellowship and worship. 

Also, I thought about my commitment to visit church members on our annual visitation to pray for their needs--to share the needs of our church for the coming year for which they could pray.  How does a person with two missing sparkplugs pray with power for another?  I wondered how God could use me at all, but come what may, I was going.  Well, evidently, the Lord doesn't want just anybody to show up and pray for His people.  He pulled my plugs and turned off the ignition. 

Two days before the visitation, I got a mega-virus of volcanic proportions.  This is the first day since Friday I've been able to sit up for more than ten minutes.  And the second day I've been able to even venture to open my eyes.

As I lay beneath a pile of blankets and quilts, shivering in agonizing pain at even the least noise or movement, I thought about being "stuck in Neutral" and the commitment I was breaking as a result of the bug.  I thought about what others would think.  I thought about how useless I am.  I thought about the force with which I'd been leveled.  Each breath I drew pounded against the inside of my brain in throbs of pain.  The throbbing was so intense, it seemed like it must be visible to anyone who looked at me.  The least bit of light or sound was intolerable.

I adjusted my breathing to as slow and shallow as I could make it as my mind raced.  Why am I thinking?  Why can't my brain just idle for awhile?  But it kept turning over and over the last few days specifically and the previous few months generally.  Before the flu, I only had back pain and occasional allergy misery.  Why couldn't I have just counted it all joy?

I spent these days praying for God's grace to open my eyes without pain.  And when they opened, I wanted to see.  I wanted to see Him again.  I wanted to be blind to myself.  I longed to read His Word.  I needed Him.  Finally, last night, when I woke at 3 a.m., I grabbed my Bible and opened it and read where it opened.  "Behold, You have made my days [as short] as handbreadths and my lifetime is as nothing in Your sight.  Truly every man at his best is merely a breath! Selah [pause and calmly think of that]!" Ps. 39:5.

"As short as handbreadths."  I closed my eyes and thought about my nearly 22,000 handbreadths and how quickly they seem to have passed.  I considered accomplishments and achievements--speeches, awards, publications, ministries.  I found them lacking.  I took comfort in times I'd simply sat and held a grieving mother's hand, wrote notes of encouragement, young wives struggling with marriages.  I thought of visiting sick and recalled prayers of intercession.  I thought of the youth I'd counseled, encouraged, complimented, loved and listened to.  I understood how my lifetime could be "as nothing" in God's sight.  The space of time in my life is so tiny in the overall scheme of His eternity.  One stitch in billions.  One molecule in an ocean.  One gleam among the zillions in space.  Even though "my lifetime is as nothing" in God's sight, He sent His only Son to die so I might live.  And why?

To write a better post?  To have the most readers?  To fill another's void?  To become the wisest theologian?  To have the unbeatable debate skills?  To be the finest mother?  The greatest wife?  No.

It's much more, yet so much less.  It's so I might tell anyone who will listen, one simple Truth:  Jesus is God's Son, born of a virgin, Who came to earth to die as the perfect sacrifice for our sin so that all who believe in Him will live eternally with Him.

"Truly every man at his best is merely a breath.  Selah." 

While I was parked, where have you been?  selahV      

SO I'M BABYSITTING AGAIN AND HAYJAE SAYS...

"Grama, we need to read the Bible."

"We do?"

"Yes; I need to know about Jesus."  So she goes and gets her little pink New Testament, crawls up into my lap and says, "Here, start here."  It was so funny.  But so precious.  And where did she point?  I begin reading about the story of Jesus calming the sea.

With animated authority, I said, "Jesus said to the wind and sea, "Peace, be still."  I read where the disciples questioned how the elements of nature would obey him, then asked HayJae, "Why do you think the storm obeyed Jesus and stopped?"

"Because He's God."

Guess she's got that bit of theology down, huh?  selahv

WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT...

THAT SHE WOULD HAVE KNOWN?

After all, she's only two years old.

Last night my hubby and I were babysitting our two little granddaughters.  My house is peppered with Christmas decorations.  I have several Nativity Creches throughout the livingroom.  Kinsey stood at one table toying with one set.  My husband cautioned, "No, no, Kinsey.  You can't play with that."  I overruled, "It's unbreakable and I let them play with it."  Earlier 4-year-old HayJae had lined up all the figures in a row and talked about them.  I've often used these times to share the Christmas story with the older grandkiddos, but not Kinsey.

This morning I noticed that the little set that 2 year-old Kinsey had played with last night was arranged as you see in the picture.  It dawned on me as I got ready to dust this morning, that she'd arranged all the little figures, Mary, Joseph, one angel and one Wiseman encircled around Baby Jesus.  Who would have thought she knew Who needed to be the main focus?  How could she have known?

However it happened, I thought it was a jolting reaffirmation that Jesus should be the center of my thoughts--especially right now.  selahV 

LESSONS ON BARACK OBAMA, WHAT SHE DIDN'T KNOW...

A few weeks ago she wasn't the least bit interested in politics.  And actually she still isn't.  But as I read the story on AOL's screen, she stood nearby.  "Who's that man?"

"He is our president."

"What's his name?"

"President George Bush."

"What's he doing?"

"Talking to the people."

"What's he telling them?"

"How he's going to help them get money for their jobs and how he's gonna help people stay in their homes."

"Like daddy?"

"Yeah."

"What else does our president do?"

"He keeps us safe.  He helps get money for all the army guys and he helps the leaders all over the world."

"Does he keep the bad guys away?"

"Yes."  She bounced away and began to play with her homemade tent.  It was one of those "homeschooling" moments on current events.  She's only four.  But I support my daughter's efforts whenever I'm babysitting.  In the following days, HayJae has occasionally brought up our president during Scooby Doo, when she got scared of the bad guys.  "Our president will get those bad guys, huh, Grama?"  I smiled and affirmed he wouldn't let the bad guys get us.

Today I had another teaching moment.  I was babysitting the girls as my daughter did bookkeeping for her husband's construction business.  They were watching Curious George and I was surfing news stories on my daughter's laptop.  I called HayJae over and showed her a new picture.  "This is our new president.  His name is Barack Obama."  Without a hitch, she repeated his name.  I googled his name and came up with lots of images I could show her.  She looked at the one pictured on the left and asked if his little girl was scared.  I told her, "No, she's having fun."  I told her about his two little girls--"They're the same age as Abby and Brooklyn" (her two cousins).  "He's riding in a little car with her.  She's not scared because she's with her daddy."

"Is Barack Obama going to protect us, too?"

"He's going to do his best."

His best.

I really believe that, friends.  I just don't know what his best is.  I have written a few posts speculating how well President-elect Obama will be in dealing with our country.  Lots of folks agree with me.  Hundreds don't.  In fact, millions don't.  But millions do.  Yes, I voted against him.  I truly wish I'd been able to vote for him.  I wish he had been the man I had written to the Republican party about years ago:  JC Watts, or Michael Steele.  I love those men.  I wish Obama stood for the things they do.  Unfortunately, all I've learned about him in the last couple of years is that he wants to bring change.  A change that doesn't square with one single thing I believe in.  Personally, if his plans succeed, I know there is a lot that will affect me in the negative--and a lot that will affect others I know in the negative. 

However, there is one thing I will not do.  I will not teach my grandchildren that my President is a person to be feared.  I will not treat him like so many people treated President Bush for the past 9 years.  I will not call him a buffoon, or an idiot, or a drunk, or a dope-head.  I will disagree profoundly on the positions Obama takes that oppose mine.  But I won't call him names.  I will teach them to respect him.  I will teach them to pray for him.  And I hope the lessons I teach my grandchildren about Barack Obama will honor my Lord.  selahV

[© SelahV Today,hariette petersen, 2008]        

PEARLS BEFORE SWINE, OR SALT IN THE BRINE

Ever feel like you're carrying a load you shouldn't be hauling around?

There are times I am reading blogs and the comment streams get so muddy that a swine couldn't find a pearl if it sucked it up its nose.  Not that we want to be casting our pearls before swine.  BUT...

Let's face it.  The world is a dark place.  And Jesus says we Christians are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.  And Jesus suggests that we Christians let our lights so shine that our Father in Heaven is glorified.

UH...what did I say?  "Suggests?"  Excuse me.  He instructs (commands):

"Let your light so shine before men that they may see your moral excellence and your praiseworthy, noble, and good deeds and recognize and honor and praise and glorify your Father Who is in heaven." Matt. 5:16 Amplified

As bloggers, we Christians have such an opportunity to shine.  In a venue that has the possibility of reaching billions, don't you think it should give us pause when we consider writing posts and commenting on some?  Aren't we who claim Jesus as Savior and Lord to be held to a higher standard?  Aren't pastors to be held even higher?  By no stretch of the imagination do I think I've conquered some holy hill here at my blog.  But golley, I try.  I really do try to remember I am the light of the world and the salt of the earth.  Do you?  selahV

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]      

PRAIRIE DOGS, DUCKS, TODDLERS AND OTHER UNTOUCHABLES

It began at the mall.  I took 3-year-old HayJae for a date-day.  First, she rode on the mechanical pony.  Then she played in the play arena with other children.  They chased each other, crawled through hollow drums and climbed on giant blocks.  Complete strangers to one another--innocent, trusting fun. (The stories I could tell from that experience, but I press on.)

  We were suppose to get HayJae's hair cut at the nearby Master-Cuts shop.

"I don't want to," HayJae whispered with eyes peeking through her bangs.  I tried to put her in the chair.  Her tiny arms clung to my neck with the hold of a boa constrictor.  Each time the beautician spoke to her, she burrowed her head deep beneath my chin.  Moments before she marched right into that shop as if she'd had her hair cut every day, now she wanted to be invisible. When she balked, I asked why.  "I'm afraid.  I want you to cut it."  Obviously, she trusted me and not the beautician.

Later we went to the Prairie Dog park (as it's come to be known).  We watched as prairie dogs chased each other in and out of holes.  She wanted to pet one, but each time she got close to one, it scampered off or down a hole.  "Prairie dogs bite you," she related.

"Yes, they do."

"Why did the prairie dog bite my brother?"

"Because he didn't want Ryan to touch him."

"Why?"

"Because he was afraid."  She still wanted to pet the prairie dogs, but didn't want to get bitten.  We went to feed the ducks and geese popcorn.  HayJae stood there at the pond's edge, tossing popcorn against the wind.  It ended up at her feet most of the time.  The ducks came close, the geese timidly stuck their necks out and snapped up the puffs of corn, then floated away.

"I wanna pet him," HayJae said as she reached her hand forward toward the white duck.  He quickly skimmed the water out of reach.  "Grama, he won't let me pet him.  Why?"

"He's afraid."

"Why?  I'll be nice to him."

"I know, but he doesn't know that.  He doesn't know you."

"But I wanna pet him.  I'll give him some more popcorn," she reasoned.  But the duck wouldn't get any closer.  It hugged the water and quickly scooted away with HayJae's attempts to touch him.  "He won't let me."

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Remember when you didn't want to have your hair cut today?  You said you were afraid.  You didn't know the lady who was going to cut your hair.  She wouldn't have hurt you either, but you were afraid because you didn't know her.  That's why the duck doesn't want you to pet him.  He doesn't know you."

"But I won't hurt him, Grama; I love him."

Untouchables.  Many people we cross paths with each and every day are unapproachable.  We often wonder why.  Many times it is because they do not know us.  Just as prairie dogs and ducks do not want to be touched and don't know HayJae would love them, some folks do not know God wants to love them.  Perhaps some are afraid because they've been hurt before.  They do not trust us to love them because others have hurt them.  Unlike the possibility of reaching out and touching the prairie dogs and ducks, we can, over time, develop trust with most folks who've been hurt.  Patience is the key.  Continual kindness and love.  For love never fails.  selahV

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]