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Please let me tell you about my perfect!?!? Christmas

A Christmas past:

Ron and I celebrated Christmas with our family yesterday. Five little ones sat around our small breakfast table; two babies were in their little chairs; and twelve of us sat around my big threshing table. The table was lined with various sizes of clear and blue Ball canning jars, each filled with snow (epsom salts) and tea lights or pine cones and red berries – all on a burlap runner. (Got the idea from Pinterest.) Friendly+Village+CollectionJohnson Bros. “Friendly Village” place settings (a gift from Ron – some years ago) covered the table. The room was filled with tiny white lights on realistic but artificial pine. (One of us is allergic to real pine!) The nativity (collected from our North Woods days) was placed nearby, a ever-present reminder of why we had gathered.

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beef roastI prepared a ten-pound boneless beef rib eye roast coated with peppercorns and served with horseradish cream. It was the largest and most tender Christmas roast I’d ever prepared. The potatoes were mashed from those I had dug from my garden late in the fall. Along with the salads and vegetables my girls brought, the dinner was delicious!

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Ron (Papa) prayed; Matilyn, our 13-year-old granddaughter, read the Christmas passage from the Gospel of Luke, and the children (young and old) rejoiced in the gifts that were shared.

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Memories of the day include the “abc” wad of gum I later found stuck on the butter dish, as well as the discovery of the baby crib mattress, taken from a bedroom, which I found in a battered and torn state at the base of the stairway,  where two of the children had used it to slide down the stair steps while we adults sat talking in the dining room! Later, when they all went home, shoes and jackets and tiny pieces of toys were left behind, some small gifts remained to be exchanged, and I knew that the day had passed much too fast.

Sounds like the perfect day?

It wasn’t!

The tree was decorated just a few short days before this party! Not every planned recipe was actually prepared and served. I didn’t take the photos I wanted. (Photos of the canning jars, dishes, and rib eye roast are taken from online!) Some of the family were late; some left early. Our family has struggled with outside forces and trials throughout the last three years.

This Christmas day was not a perfect day, but it was a “turning point” day. It was the first time we were all together in a year; our hearts were joined in love for each other and unity in Christ; so I felt very blessed! It was the end of another difficult year and nearly the beginning of a new, victorious year; so I was also thankful!

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I share my “not so perfect” day because I know that many of you, my readers, have similar Christmas days – or similar Decembers – or perhaps similar, difficult last few years, as we have. Our homes do not look like the photos we see on Pinterest, nor do our lives appear similar to the vibrant postings we read on Facebook!

When I awake on Christmas morning, I think of you women who are alone. My heart aches for you. I think of you who are grieving a recent loss, the pangs of which were replayed in every Christmas carol you heard this season. Things are not always as we want them to be. Our plans do not all come to fruition at the very time we choose. But we can rejoice in our Lord and know that He is faithful all the time and know that what He tells us in His word will be accomplished!

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There will be another Christmas in the future – perhaps I’ll get a chance to take some photos. Maybe we’ll have a bit more time to relax with each other as a family. Perhaps you won’t be alone next Christmas. For some of you, another year will buffer the intensity of the grief you now so heavily bear.

Let’s speak and believe the word together – the same words spoken by Elizabeth when she met Mary. Let these words remind us that we are and will continue to be blessed:

“Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished.”

(Luke 1:45)

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Ask whatever you wish,

When I awoke this morning and came into the kitchen, Ron was sitting at the island counter, finishing his breakfast and reading his Bible – not uncommon – but I noticed he was intently involved in a passage.

“I’m reading from John 15,” he said. “‘Ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you.'”

As he stood and got ready to leave, the look on his face and the shift in his body language said it all. After 43 years and close to that many trials together (or so it seems), I can read him – the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, the agitation of his jaw, the tenseness of his muscles, the “ahem” in his throat. So I knew exactly what he was thinking and how he felt about it and what he had asked of the Lord this morning. We hugged briefly, knowing and understanding the unstated burden, common to both our hearts.

Shortly after, we said our goodbyes and I love you’s, and he was out the door to work. Later, I opened my Bible to the same passage, wanting to connect to my husband through the word spoken to him, wanting to understand what he had read and embrace the truths he had grasped.

“. . . ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you.”

sad man 2As I read, I am reminded of the many times through our 43 years we’ve asked and it was given. I’m reminded of God’s faithfulness to Ron and me and our children, to give when we asked: provision in times of unemployment, healing in times of sickness, love and restoration in place of pain and hurt, deliverance from addiction, peace in the midst of suffering, and joy in the depths of grief.

I read John 15, thankful that I am a branch on Jesus, the vine, the source of my life; grateful that he loves me and promises that my joy may be complete; satisfied and amazed that he chose me and appointed me.

woman askingAnd once again, I, like Ron, ask. And I know it will be given. I’m a branch on His vine. My God is the gardener.

Believer, what do you need today? Ask Jesus, the true vine.

If you’re not sure you are a branch on the true vine, Jesus, click here and become a believer today.

I am the vine 2

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It’s What We Don’t See ~~

We look and we judge. We examine her attitude, the words she speaks, her smile or lack thereof, her appearance, whatever.  No, I don’t judge people in that way, I think – you think. 

But we often judge her as having  it “all together.” Everything’s perfect. She’s so happy. Because we think she has the best life or a flawless body or an awesome marriage or the ideal family or a successful career or oodles of money, we don’t think she needs us or our prayers or our encouragement or our time or our words.

But we’re wrong.

sad woman

Our unwarranted assessments of perfection sometimes blend with bits of jealousy and bitterness, creating unfair thoughts:

She deserves that.

Well, it’s about time she learns how the other half lives.

Why, in the world, would she say such a thing?

I don’t understand her.

She has nothing to complain about. 

 

But sometimes it’s what we don’t see:

Woman crying

The heart that still grieves long after the flowers have withered.

The husband that spews tiny bits of hate upon her every day.

Growing debt. Insurmountable. Overwhelming.

Income that doesn’t meet the needs.

Doubts and fears by the dozens.

The unfaithfulness.

Unruly children.

Broken Dreams.

Depression.

Loneliness.

Diffidence.

Addiction.

Sickness.

Regret.

Abuse.

Guilt.

Pain.

Love Never FailsLord, let me see her as a vulnerable woman, like myself,  needing You, needing healing, needing a friend, needing a shoulder, a hug, and  needing a word – a word of love.

Now about your love for one another we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other.

1 Thessalonians 4:9

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I have put my hope in your word . . . (healing for the baby)

I’ve been praying – for a long time – for one of my baby grandsons. Praying for the manifestation of his healing.  You see, the healing has already taken place – at the whipping post of Jesus. He bore a stripe for my baby.

So, when I pray, I thank God it’s already been done – at Calvary. And I read all about  the healing Jesus brought to so many children. They’re recorded in the gospels – the good news, and I’m strengthened to know that He healed all, and that He’s the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow – the same loving Jesus – the one who loves the children. He calls me “blessed” because I didn’t see him then, yet I believe. (John 20:29) Now I see!

Recently, my prayer has been, “Show me, Lord, what you would have me do for the baby – for his healing.” Today He answered.

“Daily Inspiration” devotions had accumulated in my email log. I opened and studied. Here’s what the Lord told me:

Day 1 – With foreign lips and strange tongues, I speak to people – this is the resting place, the place of repose. Find that place of refreshing rest, Kathi. Let the Holy Spirit speak to the Father in your behalf – for the baby. (Isaiah 28: 11,12)

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Day 2 – Stay in my Word, Kathi! Remember, I told Martha that one thing is needed – to be with me and listen to me. (Luke 10:42) My Word is powerful. It brings health – to you – and to the baby. (Proverbs 4:22) Hearing the word is vital. It builds your faith. (Romans 10:17)

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Day 3 – Nothing is too hard for me, your Sovereign Lord. I perform miraculous signs and wonders. My hand is mighty and my arm is outstretched – to you – to the baby. (Jeremiah 32:17)

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Day 4 – Watch what I will do, Kathi. Nothing is impossible for me. (Luke 1:37)

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Day 5 – I will restore a double portion of what the enemy has taken from your baby. Instead of disgrace, I give him an inheritance. I love justice. (Isaiah 61:7)

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Day 6 – Stand on my promises! When you are discouraged, keep the Word in your heart, where no evil will touch you – or the baby.

 

I am blessed! Because I believe!

 

I am the Lord who heals you

 

 

Click here to learn how you can become a believer.

He is your Savior – and your healer!

 

 

 

 

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A Mother’s prayers – still before God

Three of our grandchildren were living with us.

It was a joyful time, in the midst of a sad time.

Bedtimes were  part of the joyful time – a time of quiet talk – a time of prayer – an assurance of love. For Kaylee, the youngest, it included a time of singing. It was a song I had composed, just for her:

Sweet dreams, my Kaylee Joy;

sweet dreams to you.

Dream about rainbows,

dream about sunshine,

dream about teddy bears, too.

And as she fell asleep, my singing changed to humming, and the humming diminished as I tucked her blankie around her and tiptoed out of the room.

It was during one of those times of humming that the memory came.

Just two musical tones of my humming brought the memory – tones of a first, then down to a fifth. (You musicians know what I mean!)

With those two tones, I saw her – my mother.

She was young. Her hair dark, short, parted on the side, and wavy. I was a baby – how old I don’t know, but young enough that I was still in her arms. I looked at her through baby eyes. I saw my chubby forearm and hand. My hand was touching her soft cheek. And she was singing:

When I pray, I will pray for you,
For you need His love and His care.
When I pray, I will pray for you,
I will whisper your name in my prayer. 
At the close of the day, when I kneel to pray,
I will remember you.
You need help every day, this is why I pray,
And I will remember you.  
When I pray, I will pray for you,
For you need His love and His care.
When I pray, I will pray for you,
I will whisper your name in my prayer.
 
 

I knew the entire song – one I hadn’t heard sung in years, but now I heard only the first of it because, you see, the memory was so short. Perhaps only seconds. But long enough to place me back in my mother’s arms – to remember her holding me, singing to me, loving me.

The memory suddenly poured from my eyes and flowed down my cheeks.

I was glad Kaylee had fallen asleep. I left her bedroom and cherished the ever-so-brief thoughts, thanking God for that special reflection.

And I’ve since thought more about the words to that old hymn. Mama prayed for me. My faith first lived in her (2 Timothy 1:5).  And her prayers for me are still worship before the Lord God (Revelation 5:8, 8:4).

When their mothers had gone to be with the Lord, both my friend, Becky, and my cousin, Sherri, shared their feelings of emptiness with me. Besides their normal feelings of grief and loss, they both said, “I feel like my most faithful prayer warrior is gone.”

When my time came, and my mother was gone, I understood. I felt much the same as Becky and Sherri, until I realized that my mother’s prayers were still powerful and alive before God. A golden bowl holds the incense, which are the prayers of the saints, and the smoke of that incense continues to rise before God. I was encouraged and in turn, encouraged Becky and Sherri with that insight from God’s Word.

Let it also encourage you, my friend. Gain strength in that knowledge, my friend. Your mother’s (and/or grandmother’s) prayers are still before the Lord God. The fragrance of those prayers continues to rise  up to God, as sweet worship to Him!

And to me, it’s as though she’s still singing,

When I pray, I will pray for you,
For you need His love and His care.
When I pray, I will pray for you,
I will whisper your name in my prayer.
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THIS is because of Easter!

THIS is because of Easter, my friend.

New Life! The celebration of our Savior’s Resurrection. The promises it brings. To you. To your children. To me. To my children.

New Life in Christ!

The old is gone! The new has come!

And it’s all because of Jesus!

This is my daughter, Amber, and my son-in-law, Jesse! This is their new life in Christ!

Click here to read Jesse’s story. Amber and Jesse 4-15-2014

You may have heard about Jesus and have wondered how you can truly know you are a believer – a Christian. It’s not by your “works,” my friend. It’s not by what you do. The “Law” given in the Old Testament was God’s plan for that time period. It showed us that no matter how hard we tried, we could not follow the “Law” completely. We needed a Savior, and that Savior is Jesus Christ!

The Bible is full of Jesus!

(Old Testament and New Testament)

Perhaps you’ve heard or memorized a well-known Bible verse, John 3:16: God loved the world so much that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him will have life forever!

Wow! Isn’t that awesome?

God loved you so much that He gave Jesus for you! Jesus suffered and died on a cross, was buried, then rose from the grave three days later. He now sits at the right hand of the Father – and an entire, awesome eternity is planned for us!

When I was young, I learned about God’s plan of Salvation through what was called the “Romans Road.” It includes some verses from the Bible that show us how to become a Christian, so I am going to use those verses (from the book of Romans) to show you God’s plan:

~ We sin. No matter how hard we try, we can never be good enough for a Holy God. (Romans 3:23)

~ We were lost, but God’s gift to us is eternal life through Jesus! (Romans 6:23)

~ If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9)

So becoming a Christian involves recognizing that we fail – are sinful; realizing that Jesus Christ came to save us and give us eternal life; and confessing and believing!

It’s a grace thing! God is merciful!

Say a prayer, something like this:

Lord God, I know that I’m a sinner, but I trust that Jesus Christ died on the cross for me and rose from the grave three days later. Thank you for your gift of salvation. Help me to be the kind of Christian you want me to be. In Jesus’ name.

It’s not by coincidence that God has led you to this site, to His Word, and to His plan for you today. Isn’t He wonderful? When you accept Jesus Christ as your Savior, God sends His Holy Spirit to fill you. You are a new creation!

Now, I encourage you to delve into God’s Word – the Holy Bible – and read, read, read more about Him – and to pray, pray, pray to Him. You’re going to learn about how much He loves you and wants to bless you!

Tell someone about your decision today! I would love to hear from you through “comment” or message!

 

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This Faithful Jesus . . .

The two blind men sat at the roadside.

“Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!”

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked.

“Lord,” they answered, “we want our sight.”

Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes.  Immediately they received their sight and followed him. (Matthew 20:34)

They followed him to Jerusalem, where, a few days later, He would be crucified.

His earthly ministry was coming to an end, but, as I wrote in my last posting, we know what happens after His crucifixion: He rises from the grave. He lives!

And Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.   (Hebrews 13:8)

Dr. Thomas Constable, in his expository (Bible study) notes of this verse, writes,

“His example of faithfulness, as expounded in this epistle, should be a continuing encouragement to all believers. He is as faithful to His promises now as He ever was, and He always will be faithful to them.”

This same Jesus — this faithful Jesus — died on the cross for you! If you do not yet know Him as your Savior, I encourage you to accept Him, believing on His suffering in your place and in His Resurrection! Let Him touch your eyes, as he did touched the blind men’s, and let Him bring His light into your life. (Link to Become a Believer)

He mercifully saved me and my family! He will do the same for you!

I’ve been reading and studying and contemplating the healings Jesus performed during His ministry on earth — healings like those he brought to the two blind men. So many healings. The people crowded and pressed Him. They were desperate people, as we are desperate people. He had compassion on them, and He still has compassion — on us.  Jesus Christ is the same compassionate Savior today!

I’ve witnessed His compassionate healing upon myself and my loved ones:  from drug addiction, from broken families, from holes in a newborn’s heart, from a diagnosis of spreading cancer, from grief, from pain . . .

He is still the Lord, Son of David,  who has mercy on us!

“He is as faithful to His promises now as He ever was, and He always will be faithful to them.” (Dr. Thomas Constable)

“What do you want me to do for you?” he asks.

Yes, our faithful Jesus still cares.

cross and crown

 

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I miss them both so much I could cry.

I miss them both so much I could cry.

Yes, I miss them.

And yes, I cry.

March 4 and April 4 were the dates.

The first year was difficult; grief coupled itself to other pain; I grieved with an already broken heart. But new life came near the end of that first year: Luke and Jackson — and  their beautiful little lives evidenced the heritage started by the two who had gone. But the enemy, who steals, kills, and destroys, came and stole a chunk of that new life from our little Luke. Grief worsens when one is beaten down.

During the second year, the grief lifted just enough that I could breathe without pain. I found comfort in the Word I had known for years. I trusted in its promises. I saw our Lord stop by the whipping post. I saw the stripes on His body – one, for baby Luke. I believed “by His wounds, we are healed.”  I remembered His suffering and His death on the cross. I saw it as amazing grace. I remembered it with communion. I learned to trust and believe.

Now I’ve entered the third year, and I have hope. Much hope. I’ve learned that the period of mourning should be limited – for my good. Little by little, I’m letting the grief go. I’m trusting in the great Comforter – in His love, His grace, His finished work, His mercy, His promises, His healing for Luke, and His healing for my family.

This third year begins in the spring – not by coincidence, but by God’s plan and by His mercy.

Spring is here, and Spring brings new life that abounds in every direction – north, south, west, and east.

I step out of my house and look to the north. The cherry tree buds. Grass, beaten by the worst winter, shows signs of healing, signs of green, as my soul my body, beaten by grief and pain, bask in the sunshine, warmth, and renewal of spring.

I look to the south and see a yellow house where a renewed and restored family now lives in the house of the two who are gone — the house steeped in heritage and love. I see evidence of those promises I read and believed. Evidence of His mercy, His forgiveness, His restoration, His grace.

I look to the west and see a beautiful sunset, knowing that His mercies will be new in the morning, reminded of His faithfulness.

But it’s when I look to the east that I find the greatest hope. I look into the blue eastern sky and know that’s where I’ll see my Savior.

Where I’ll meet those I’ve lost.

Where the grief and pain will be gone.

Where the enemy is no more.

Where every forever day will bear new life.

Where hope will be manifested.

And where I’ll never remember the dates, the grief, the pain.

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Time is not the healer.

I’m in my kitchen – cooking. My television is set on TCM (Turner Classic Movies), as usual. Spencer’s Mountain is coming on. I haven’t seen it in years, and I love old movies, yet I hesitate to watch it again today. Suddenly I realize why. I know what’s going to happen. The old Papa is going to die, and I don’t want to relive my own sad memories – memories of my own Daddy and Mama’s deaths.

A year and a half have passed. I thought time was to be the healer of this grief. Now I know.Time has been undeservedly credited. Time has not been the healer of this grief.

But I DO watch the movie. I’m watching the old, worn Papa, meandering up on the mountain, tending the family graveyard. I’m remembering my own old, worn Daddy, strolling the family graveyard.

Then the old, worn Papa in the movie dies, and I’m watching the family carry him back to the family graveyard on the mountain side. The Spencer family sings “In the Garden.” Papa had requested it.

Any music stirs my heart, but the tune and the words of that hymn bring years of memories. I hear my Daddy and Mama singing it. I see them them singing it. I see the title, “In the Garden” written in my mother’s scribbled penmanship on an odd little piece of paper and placed in the white envelope marked “my funeral.” I want this sung at my funeral, she had written beside the title. My memories of that hymn culminate in hearing it sung at my mother’s funeral.

And he walks with me, and He talks with me.

And He tells me I am His own.

and the joy we share, as we tarry there,

none other has ever known.

Watching the Spencer family grieve, I briefly relive the funerals of my grief. I revisit the funeral homes. I walk to the graves, following Daddy’s casket covered with the flag, following Mama’s casket, covered with roses and carnations and ferns. As the Spencers say goodbye, I again say goodbye. Pain penetrates me.

With each memory, good or bad, the pain has come – a pain pitted between my heart and my throat. But with each memory, throughout this year and a half, the pain lessens, and in pain’s place, healing comes.

Yes, time is not the healer of my grief.

Memories are the healer of my grief.

 

 

 

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Mother’s Day

I remember when her mother died. Mom’s heart was broken, and I thought I understood. Soon after, Mom and I and my daughters went to a Mother/Daughter Banquet to celebrate Mother’s Day. I was celebrating her – my mother, and I told her so. But Mom was not celebrating. Her heart was broken from the loss of her own mother, my Grandma Locke. And again, I thought I understood.

Nonetheless, I celebrated her — with my unfailing love and my joy in hers. I shared with her my thankful heart — for her tender care, for her prayers, for the heritage she was giving — and for all she would continue to give — to me and to my daughters.

When honoring a mother, a daughter’s joy cannot be contained. It is contagious to the mother. And it is healing.

Mom

And it brought some healing to my mother. On that day — that Mother’s Day — Mom knew that her own mother’s legacy had not died with her mother. She knew that it continued in herself and in turn, in me, and then, in my daughters.

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So today, Mom, I celebrate your memory, and I continue to honor you and the legacy you have passed on.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

GrandmaToday, I celebrate my Grandma Locke who made sure I had eaten a good dinner and then let me delve into her massive sugar cookies dolloped with jam.

Grandma NuttI celebrate my Grandma Nutt who had birthed twelve children and had dozens of grandchildren yet still had time to hold me in her cushy lap and sing to me.

Today, I also celebrate myself. I celebrate my daughters and daughter-in-law, and I celebrate my granddaughters. And I know the legacy continues. And it is quite healing.

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