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#18 I Walk Among the Giants

I recently posted about the importance of deep roots, established and rooted in Jesus Christ. Additionally, another type of root system is also vital in the Christian life – that of “connection.” Scripturally taught throughout the New Testament, this lesson was reinforced in my mind when, of all places, Ron and I traveled through the beautiful Redwoods in Northern California. Let me explain . . .

From Oregon, we drove just a short distance south into California before gps instructed us to turn east onto Highway U.S. 199 toward our destination campground. I had booked three nights here, which I thought gave us two full days to go into the parks to see the beautiful Redwoods ~ our purpose in coming to this southernmost point of our journey. I assumed we would reach our campsite, set up, and visit the parks the next day, but – once we made that turn onto U.S. 199,  we  discovered were already in the Redwoods:

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#2 Where you go, I will go . . .

 The northwest has called us, and I invite you to come along!

“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”

~ Rachel Carson

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#7 Prairie Grasses Have Purpose and Deep Roots

“In nature we never see anything isolated, but everything in connection with something else which is before it, beside it, under it and over it.” ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Yes, all of nature is connected and has purpose. As we headed west from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula via Hwy 2, a fellow RV’er advised us not to bother driving through North Dakota and Montana – he said it was boring with no striking views. But, you see, Ron and I like to make the connections; we like to see what others might not.

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Until Tuesday

I tired of her. I was busy with my young children, my housework, and giving piano lessons.

She required much of my time. She was needy. Often invited herself over. I couldn’t get anything else done. I talked with another friend and asked advice about the situation. She offered a suggestion.

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I hear the Master whisper . . .

I drive past it nearly every day, on my way somewhere. Today, though, I pull over and park my car in the lot, now overlaid with weeds. I look at the church – an unkempt building that has been empty for many years now – and I listen. No music flows through its closed windows.  No children laugh or play on the rotted teeter-totter in its side yard. No pastor preaches from its pulpit. Instead, I hear the sounds of the country – the birds, the leaves kissing the breeze, a tractor in the distance,

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The Apron

Do you ever find time to get away by yourself and have some quiet time with the Lord? When my children were at home, I thought it must be impossible to have quiet time with the Lord in our busy, noisy household! But then I heard about Susannah Wesley!

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Alone. Without a tissue.

The room is small. The chairs uncomfortable. I see her through the glass, waiting for the thick door to unlock, controlled by someone we don’t see. Someone in another room looking through cameras into hallways and rooms, cells and blocks.

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Dear Mother (in purple crayon)

IMG_2982I almost tossed it away – it looked so insignificant, written with a purple crayon, personalized with my favorite drawings: a tree on the front and a swing set on the back. But evidently it was not insignificant to her,

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Your Faith Has Healed You!

I yearn to hear those words,

“Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed of your suffering.”

Being raised with teaching that certainly God can heal but He doesn’t always heal,

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A Bird for His Purpose

Brilliant. Beautiful. Graceful. Pleasant. Stately. Confident. Cocky.
 
“Cocky.” That’s the trait that ended Gary Hancock.
 
     He couldn’t help being “cocky.“ That’s how God made him, the very peacock that he is (was). Through the years, I’ve witnessed  the “cockiness” of the wild turkeys that strut our yards and fields – of the pheasant that crosses the road as though he owns it, which he does! Likewise, it was the innocent, stately, God-given confident “cockiness” that brought about Gary Hancock’s demise one afternoon as he crossed the road he assumed he owned.

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