Prayers gonna pray pray pray

Yesterday was check-up time with my Bible Study Group.  As prayer time began and it was my turn to submit my requests, I first asked if the gals had anything for me.  They kind of looked blankly at me and then I reminded them of how last week I had asked them to write me a prayer.  Realization came to some of their eyes as they suddenly remembered what they had been asked to do but hadn’t.  Well, except for two of the gals who weren’t there last week.  And Kristy.  But I’ll write more about her in a moment.

Saddened but hiding it in humor (my go-to fix) I declined the offer to share my requests since they hadn’t prayed for me last week.  “Why ask if you aren’t going to do your part,” I questioned, with a mock-offended tone and my hands held out in protest.  And then came the responses that made me ashamed of myself.  

“When I drive past your road, I say a prayer for you.  That’s when God brings you to my mind” said one gal, as she explained how writing just wasn’t her thing.  

Kristy--again, I’ll get to her later--smiled at me in camaraderie, because she had done her part.  And then, the sweet gal beside of me, pulls out a sheet of paper, handwritten, from the Book of Colossians, where she had been specifically praying for me as she wrote her conversation to the Lord about me but hadn’t finished it yet.  

Wow.

Did I mention I was humbled?  

Sigh.

Okay, let’s get to Kristy now.  I love this little lady!  She is one of the sweetest souls I have ever met and I weekly delight in how she is growing in the Lord and how her inner light blesses me and so many others.  For example, on Tuesday I received a message from her, with a prayer she had prepared for me from Ephesians 6:10-18.  I was so touched!  We talked back and forth for a few minutes and she let me know that she had received her note from me earlier in the day and how it had come and said what she needed at just the right time.  Don’t you just love when God works that out?!  Me too!

We all have our own ways of praying and lifting each other up.  Mine is mostly through writing while another’s is done through “drive-bys.”  Then there are those who just pray at specific and/or designated times.  Others will only do it when strongly impressed to.  But the kicker here is to pray.  When you can.  Where you can.  How you can.  As often as you can.  For you see, when we talk to Jesus about one another, we have an Advocate Who listens and is able to touch the needs addressed.  We have a Friend Who gives us His whole-hearted attention, whether that be for a minute, a moment, or more.  And the results of these conversations with our Lord can have lasting results and make changes not only in the one we are praying for but in us as we take the time to speak to Him.  

In conclusion, I timed myself yesterday as I was praying for my special person.  Less than three minutes was all it took.  Three minutes to devote to my friend as I mentioned her name to the Father as I prayed I Corinthians 13 over her.  Today I purpose to say that prayer again but pausing more as I consider where she is on her journey, where I wish she was, and how I am going to trust God to see that she completes her race.  I shall look at her paper I created and reflect on those verses throughout the day.  I shall ponder and pray because she is worth this to me.  

As you glance at the meme I posted today, I ask that you consider giving me three minutes of your time.  Repeat the words of scripture or use your own.  Can you imagine what God might do if a few of you lifted me up to Him with these words?  Ol’ Stef might finally get straightened out and be a vessel of glory and honor.  Now that would be something!

Broken and Beautiful

I have truly enjoyed my sunflowers this summer.  They have added light and beauty to my home and seeing them standing proudly, bowed slightly towards the sun, has added new dimensions to my appreciation for our Lord.

Last night when Steve and I got home, there was a full moon, shining down the road to the end of my ‘hood.  Wanting to capture its beauty and light, I quickly got my camera phone out and unsuccessfully tried to photograph it.  The light from it was just too intense for my feeble camera’s ability to truly show what wonder it was creating.  Knowing that the heat from the past few weeks has taken its toll on our vegetation, I meandered around to the side of the house to peek at what was left of my sunflowers.  You may think I am weird (and you wouldn’t be the first to do so) but the verse that popped into my head when I saw them was “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.  Ecclesiastes 3:11).

Yes, these former standing-tall flowers were now nearly spent.  Their seeds have long been used to feed the birds and other critters that may have gotten to eat a scrap morsel or two that those hungry feathered friends of ours left behind.  Ooh, that reminds me of when the Canaanite lady was sitting at Jesus’ feet, waiting for a crumb from the Master’s table from Matthew 15.  She had asked Him for help and he replied that He was sent to the lost sheep of Israel.  Her response to this caused a great reaction in Jesus and in those around Him:

The woman came and knelt before him. "Lord, help me!" she said.

“He replied, "It is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs."  

"Yes it is, Lord," she said. "Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."

Then Jesus said to her, "Woman, you have great faith! Your

request is granted." And her daughter was healed at that

moment.”  

Faith. What a tremendous word.  

Take one last look at my sunflowers.  They will soon be pruned down and perhaps they will take root over the winter months as they slumber and when spring comes?  Oh, how tremendous it would be to see them shoot up and grow strong and tall once again!

Notice in particular the sunflower on the far right.  Do you see it?  Stooped over.  Broken, yet still bowing down to its creator.  Its work not done completely yet, it takes a final opportunity to pay homage to the Lord, to the Son, to remind me again that I am to do the same.  As my bones age and bend, may my soul maintain the beauty once given to it.  May my seed continue producing long after my eternal body is gone.  May my faded beauty still shine as brightly as possible for my Maker.

Somebody Touched Me!

She did it again.  This woman.  This marvelous woman that the Lord Jesus Christ saw fit to put in my world.  

It was a couple of weeks ago at Card Ministry.  My back was hurting and for some unknown reason (because I really don’t like folks to touch me much--it makes me feel all funny inside), as I stood beside her, I asked her to rub it. Without hesitation, she did.  And it wasn’t just one of those quickie-okay-I’ll-rub-your-back-for-one-minute-rubs.  No sir.  This lady proceeded to gently but firmly place her warm hand where I had shown her it hurt, and continued to make circles on my aching body until I let her know that that was good.

I didn’t think much about it until a week or so ago, when Steve and I were doing our Fruit of the Spirit study.  The word “kindness” came up and I immediately remembered this act that had been performed on me.  If you’re thinking to yourself at this point “What is the big deal, Stef?  Plenty of people have rubbed my back before and you don’t see me writing to tell the world.” then I would like you to take a moment and consider this verse from Matthew 8:3:

Jesus stretched out His hand and touched him, saying, "I am willing; be cleansed." And immediately his leprosy was cleansed.

While not a leper, many folks don’t touch me.  I guess it’s the aura I put out and most of the time it’s fine.  I mean sure, I get those friendly hugs as one circulates through the congregation at church from a few sweet women and occasionally from an older man.  The ones from the kiddos sure are sweet!  

I still didn’t think of it as such a big deal until on one of those Sundays, another lady approached me to shake my hand but...I could tell she was just doing it to be nice.  What she wanted to really do was get a hold of the woman beside of me and embrace her lovingly.  Her words of “My day just isn’t complete without a hug from you!” made my heart feel a pang as I thought “This woman doesn’t give me hugs!”  For some reason, it really bothered me.  Thus, the night Steve and I studied kindness, the back rub came back to mind.

What is it about the human touch?  That feeling of warmth that spreads through your whole body when another human being shares a part of self to connect with you?  Those random pats on the backs and shoulders?  The hearty handshakes when you can tell someone is really glad to see you? The oh-so-sweet gentle kisses on a cheek or the top of your head that seem to come from one who instinctively seems to know just how badly you needed that?

Jesus knew all about them.  That’s why He so freely gives them, gives of Himself.  He knows many of us feel unworthy, unlovable, unaccepted.  Many of the miracles He performed on others resulted first in Christ Jesus touching that one who was infirmed, making a connection, and showing His compassion.  Leper, blinded men, the deaf--all of these wounded felt the healing touch of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.  The ones most people had already rejected were healed by the Great Physician.  

So, back to my friend.  Did she have any clue what her rubbing of my back meant to me?  Probably not.  I’m sure many folks ask things of her that she freely gives without thinking twice about them.  That’s her nature:  to give of herself.  That’s Christ’s nature, exhibited in this dear soul and in so many of you.  So, the next time opportunity presents itself, reach out and touch someone.  Oh surely, though, do it in a helpful way and not a kick in the rear as many need (in our humble estimations) or a punch in the face as many are wont to do in today’s society.  You probably won’t realize how effective and powerful that simple kind gesture is but I daresay you will impact a life more than for the few seconds your touch lingers on them.

Let’s pray!

Dear Father, how I thank You for touch.  The sense of another soul reaching out without fear to share love is one of Your most wonderful gifts!  

Thank You for the example Your Son Jesus modeled for me.  May I use my fingers, my hands, and my light kisses on cheeks to bless others and remind them that You care about them even more than I do.  In the precious name of Jesus I pray this:  amen.

Lights out? Nah, not tonight!

I’m sitting outside in the gazebo (pronounced gaze-bo), watching Steve work on pre-wiring it for the ceiling fan and lights.  I’m also enjoying God’s majesty as the sun begins to set, providing me a cloudy splendor as the rays shine down like spotlights.  One of my neighbors is mowing and the sound only slightly interferes with the gentle beats of the wood chimes as an occasional breeze moves them together.

When I first came out here, being the typical Southern gal that I am who doesn’t like getting too much nature on her, I lit the Cinnamon Spice Citronella Candle to help keep those pesky mosquitoes away from my tender flesh.  As I watched the flame gently flicker, dancing in the soft breeze, it almost seemed merry, which made me think of Christmas.  I reached over and tenderly cupped my hands around the candle, enjoying its slight warmth, even though my phone tells me it’s 86 degrees out here.  

My thoughts drifted from one place to another, and then they flickered as the flame of the candle wavered.  I cupped my hands around it, trying to prevent its light from extinguishing.  It worked and once again the flame danced merrily about, shining its light, fulfilling its purpose.  I thought about me and my light as I once again valiantly placed my hands around the candle, trying to prevent the wind from overtaking it.  Distracted by my surroundings, I looked away.  Just for a moment.  The sky was so pretty!

Feeling a tickle on my leg, I brushed away the fly that was trying to nest there (although Steve assures me flies don’t nest.  I reminded him I haven’t shaved this month and this fly was definitely trying to nest!).  

“Why isn’t that candle keeping the bugs away?”  I thought in dismay.  

Guess what?  It had gone out again, snuffed out by the wind when I wasn’t protecting it, when the watchman had failed in her duty.  Thought it didn’t literally move, the candle had lost its place from the protector.  Only a slight scent of its fragrance was left behind--left behind to remind me.

About what, Stef?

About this little light of mine.  About when I let it shine and when I allow it to give off gentle warmth.  About the fragrance, the aroma that I emanate.  About the bugs I keep away.  And about the winds of care that blow sometimes softly and at other times more forcefully.  It makes me glad that Jesus isn’t like me and does not look away for even one second.  It makes my heart smile as I envision His nail-scarred hands filtering what can and what cannot touch me.  It makes me grateful that while I can sometimes shine before others that it’s His glory that is revealed.  

That’s what it reminds me of.  Aren’t you so glad you asked?

Might as well jump!

This may be one of the shortest blogs I will ever write. Got a minute? Great!

Today I saw a post from an old friend of mine that supports the rights of those who are against this LGBT fluff that is going on here in North Carolina. Proudly, I shared it but now, as I sit here and ponder the implications of that, I wonder: will this woman stay on the verge of expressing her beliefs, will she jump forth with all she has, or will she cower and back down? No offense towards her, because I wonder the same things about myself.

When on the verge, friends, of taking a stand, will we be bold and stand or will we cower and/or crawl backwards, letting our fears (of society, of the wrath of others, or of being labeled as fanatics) override our senses? It's easy to do things when only a few are looking but when we are in the spotlight, put to the test, and asked to prove our beliefs, will we? Will we do the right thing in the eyes of Jesus or will we continue on blindly in the world's views?

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, thank You for those who are unafraid and unashamed to walk with You. Not behind You, nor from afar as the disciples did when You were arrested and sent to trial but with You, Jesus. Help us all to be bold, to be fearless but with sense, and mostly, Lord Jesus, to reflect You in all that we do. In Your holy name I ask this. Amen.

Are you a shameful sinner or a sorry saint?

Huh?  What kind of question is that?  A "shameful sinner"--what does that even mean?  And "sorry saint"?  Please explain!

Okay, since you asked, I will.  First though, let's simplify things a little.  In the course of this blog, I will refer to shameful sinners as "ss" and sorry saints as "SS" so that I won't have to repeat those phrases so much.

There's a difference between being ashamed about something and having sorrow over it.  Steve and I have been pondering this for a couple of days now and so apparently, has our good friend James MacDonald.  Throw in incidences from our grandsons, our selves, and worldly issues and it's been quite the wandering event going on here, as you can see in this picture.

Why do we teach our children to say "I'm sorry" when an infraction has occurred?  Sure, we want them to be polite.  We want them to acknowledge another's pain.  We think they need to learn how to behave better.  But what about when they have to apologize but...but they aren't really sorry?  Gulp.  I mean, sure, maybe it could have been handled differently but to be sorry when deep inside we are glad we did what we did?  After all, didn't that one have it coming to him/her?  I have found in trying to teach this lesson that it can go into a barrage of guilt and shame in trying to make one child apologize to the other when I could see his heart was not in it.

Ahh, the heart.  The heart that controls our emotions, our feelings, and our deepest desires.  Heads?  Heads teach us reason, to rationalize, and to mandate to society.  Hearts though are special, tender, and stubborn.  To admit we were the one who was wrong, that it was our poor choices that led to this climax, and that we are then the ones who have to humble ourselves?  Hmn hmn hmn.  That's when things can get tricky.

Let's switch gears a moment and talk about shame.  Shame too involves our feelings but the key here is that that is what it's about:  our feelings.  Me.  Mine.  Shame is often internalized and while we may battle its effects, it's a private battle that we let few (if any) in on.  We can have disgust at ourselves, at our tendencies to do wrong things--and make no mistake:  we know they are wrong.  Shame hides in the dark (hmn hmn hmn) and hopes no one finds out its ugliness.  Shame doesn't want others to know of our embarrassments over our fetishes and foolishnesses but when the truth comes out?  Oh my.  Shame has two choices then.  It can either say "The world accepts this behavior.  Who are you to judge?"  Or, it can lead to to sorrow, godly sorrow, that leads to repentance.

Can you be sorry without shame?  I don't think so.  Can you have shame without being sorry?  Definitely.  While ss like to keep things hidden, SS have to outwardly express their wrongs.  They are brought into the light and dealt with there.  Shame has turned into "not judging" and "accepting the sin" rather than the sinner, as many of us were taught.  Thanks to society, many sins that are daily committed are not even classified as being wrong anymore.  Instead, they are embraced, welcomed, and glorified even.  My friends, this ought not to be so!

We all have tendencies within us to do evil.  The difference is when we act upon them.  When we justify them and make them right in our own eyes, we are headed for trouble.  Things like homosexuality, murder, vindication, adultery, stealing, cheating, lying.  Oh be careful Stef:  you are about to step on some toes!  Yeah, mine are pretty sore themselves because I am certainly not sinless.  Jesus taught us that if we look upon another with lust that we have already committed adultery in our hearts.    He taught us to love our neighbors as ourselves and I'll tell you what:  there are some of my neighbors that I would bend over backwards to help out at any given moment.  But then there are some that...well, it'd be tough for me to love them without a lot of assistance from the Good Lord.  So, you see, I am far from perfect myself, friends.  Have you ever heard the expression "some folks just need killin'"?  Yeah, it's hard for ol' Stef to wait on the promised vengeance that is God's.  Let's not even talk about the things my mind conjures up to help Him out in that department.

To conclude and hopefully bring this blog into some semblance of sense, we are all sinners.  We all fall short of the glory of God.  We all need a Saviour.  Christ Jesus is the Final Authority:  not the government, not society, and not the Constitution which has been rewritten.  The Holy Bible is full of men with faults who had a choice to make--just like you and I do.  Will we be shameful sinners and hope our sins don't get found out or will we repent, will we return to God, and will we humble ourselves and admit our failures?  Sorry Saints are in the light and their difference from shameful sinners is that they went the next step.  For you see, ss know that what they are doing is wrong.  They aren't kidding themselves.  They cry out to God for Him to take away this burden but they don't go the next step, the step that SS do:  they don't turn from their sin.  They keep on practicing it.  They don't intend to stop.  SS, on the other hand (and please pardon the pun), will cut off their arms, pluck out their eyes, and flee from evil in their repentance.  Whatever it takes, they will do to be right with God.  Relationship with Christ is their hearts' desire above all, above the selfish desires of self.  What God says versus what they want is their intention.  

So, what are you sorry for today?  Did you commit that act on purpose?  What do you feel deep shame over--or maybe just minor shame since we really aren't that bad?  (Ahem)  Will pride, guilt, and selfishness keep you from Christ or cause you to run to Him?  He's standing there, with arms wide open, to welcome you back.  He loves you in your sin, oh yes but...but He cannot allow you to continue in it and expect that He accepts it because you and Him have an "understanding" that the Bible was written for everyone else except you.  Repentance was defined as being "a recognition of sin followed by heartfelt sorrow culminating in a change of behavior" in James MacDonald's messages recently.  Do you need to change your behavior today, loved ones?  

Sigh.

Let's pray.

Well, Lord, here I go again, preaching to the choir.  Sigh.  You know the depths of my sins, Father, and the things I fight against giving into.  You know my pride, my sense of feeling I am the right one while it's mostly everyone else who is wrong.  You know my shame, oh my shame, Father, over things I have done and truthfully, often still think about doing.  

I need a cleansing, Lord.  A detoxification.  It's me, again, oh Lord, who stands in the need of prayer.  As my heart continues to war with my head, with my flesh, with my society, please stay in the forefront of my mind.  It's surely a battlefield up there, God, and I keep forgetting to put on my whole armor.  I keep forgetting that like the impotent man, I have no man to do this for me.  It's me.  My choices and my decisions.  My want to get up and walk or my desire to stay in the pigsty like the prodigal son.  

Thank You for giving me the option to rise, Lord.  With my hand in Yours, I will not stumble.  Hold me tight, I pray!  In the name of Jesus, amen.

Look Up!

Have you heard that tomorrow night there is supposed to be a blue moon? I don't believe I've ever seen one so I am quite excited about it.

Have you heard that Jesus is coming back? I've seen signs about His return and heard stories about it my whole life. I'm quite excited about that as well.

Did you read my blog yesterday, asking you to tell me what's wrong with you that maybe you haven't told anyone else? Did you feel my heart reaching out to yours? Did you know I've been waiting my whole life to be heard and not just listened to--much like those of you who wrote to me and shared your stories? I was quite excited about that. And saddened. And...? And I was humbled. I was seared by the words written as they resonated within my own soul. That old expression "misery loves company" is true in part. To know someone understands your hurts and haunts even though your paths most likely won't cross down here is invaluable.

Our stories, friends, often have the same theme. The plot line may be a little different and some of the characters aren't quite the same but the similarities are obvious. The hurts common. The difference is the way we have allowed and are still allowing God to work in us to take those aches away.

I had lunch today with a new friend and what should have only been a 1-3 hour event turned into one that lasted nearly 6 hours. Why? What made this woman so special that I spent a whole afternoon with her and she with me when we'd only met once before in a social setting? I'll tell you. God allowed us to have kindred spirits, willing hearts that dared once more to reach out to another soul when so many in our pasts have let us down. He allowed us to tell things to each other that few others were privy to. We felt safe and trusted Him enough to bless this meeting. Will we have another "date" such as this? Who knows? I hope so! I'm excited about that.

In conclusion to this scattered thoughts blog (you know I don't always make much sense after 7:00 pm), here are my final words: look up. Look up to see the blue moon tomorrow night. Look up to see Jesus on the horizon. Look up to see that not everyone is looking down on you but instead, they are waiting to make eye contact with you, to connect with you, and to comfort you--often without even realizing they are being a balm to your soul. Our redemption draweth nigh, friends. Look up!

Let's get fruity!

June 15, 2015

Don't you just love a good story?  You know, the kind that has mystery, intrigue, and--of course--a protagonist that saves the day!

Jesus loved stories too.  Here's one He shared in Matthew 13 that I'd like to modernize if you'll allow me to.  Jesus' version goes like this:  

1 The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side.

2 And great multitudes were gathered together unto him, so that he went into a ship, and sat; and the whole multitude stood on the shore.

3 And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, Behold, a sower went forth to sow;

4 And when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up:

5 Some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth:

6 And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away.

7 And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them:

8 But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.

9 Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.

Now, for those of you who know anything about me, you know that there is no green on my thumbs.  As shown in the picture, these little plants represent my nursery skills--or lack of.  I have the one on the left that was overzealous, bloomed first, and quickly became staid.  I have the middle one that sprouted more slowly and it too has become unadventurous.  Lastly, I have the soil on the right that...well, a picture is worth a thousand words, right?  

I've been pondering these plants for a while as I hoped they'd blossom and bring forth fruit--or at least the promised basil that the instructions said the seed would produce.  Naturally, I began in my writer's mind to compare these would-be plants to us would-be Christians and here are the varieties of followers I came up with:

1.  We have our peepers, those who pop into church every once in a while to see what's going on.

2.  We have our creepers, those who are in church 'most every service, keeping a close eye on everything and everybody.

3.  We have our heapers, those who are there to share their sorrows, troubles, and needs.

4.  We have our reapers, those who are there to harvest the seeds that have been planted and go out into the community to share the love of Jesus.

5.  We have our weepers, those who mourn over the sins and sicknesses and sadnesses in our congregation.

6.  We have our sleepers, those who come for a quick nap and try to subliminally absorb the Word of God.

7  Lastly, we have our keepers, those who bring forth that good fruit and grow churches--not just physically but also personally.

As a long-time believer in and follower of Jesus, I have seen--and truthfully, been--all of these types of "eapers/eepers" through my years as a child of God.  I've slept my way through a few services.  I've listened to the Word being taught, thought it a marvelous idea, purposed to do better, and then before I even got home or back to school or to work forgotten most of the lessons I learned.  I've been on fire for God and tried to set the world aflame with my vast knowledge of Him.  I've been the condemning one, wondering why those around me weren't improving in their walks until I realized they were thinking the same about me.  I've beebopped in and out of several churches, looking for the right fit.  I've wholeheartedly taught Sunday School, Bible Studies, Ladies Studies, directed Bible School and Christmas Programs, worked in the Sound Booth, helped drive a van to pick up kids, and so on.  Oh yes, I've been "Miss Super Christian" for many years in my journey and yet...

Where is my fruit to show for it?  How many lives have been bettered due to my presence in them?  How much Jesus has been seen through my actions and my life?  The ones I impacted:  does their testimony stand strong today or have they fallen along the wayside?  The dvds prepared as I videoed services for shut-ins:  did this bring them some joy, some hope, some affirmation that Jesus is still working even though they can't get outside to see it?  Those kids I taught and/or brought to church:  what became of them?  Those women I shared and bared my soul with:  were their hearts changed and their burdens lifted as we learned more about Christ together?  These blogs I write:  do they convince or condemn?

Friends, I am still growing, still reaping, still peeping, still weeping in my way as I go from day to day.  But this one thing I know for sure:  I am a keeper.  I have been kept by Jesus and held in His hand.  He's preparing a place for me and though my fruit may not fill the store shelves, it's there.  Some seasons there is more of it than others.  My prayer is that my harvest will be plenty when it's all said and done and that the souls I have earnestly sought to encourage will be behind me, collecting those delicacies, and sharing them with others so that the love of God is truly spread all over this land.

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, thank You for the opportunity to serve You.  As Pastor Payne preached yesterday, we don't work to be saved, we work because we are saved.  And speaking of my preacher, Lord, will You bless him extra good today?  Oh the sleepers, creepers, peepers, heapers, weepers, and such he faces each time he is behind that pulpit!  May his sermons fall on solid ground and may the words You send for him to give to us be well-received?  

Father, we all have a duty as Your children.  Don't let our hearts be so hardened that we cannot continue to grow.  Don't let us start off strong and fizzle out.  Help us, temper us, I ask, so that we stay consistent, we stay fresh, and we provoke others to acts of righteousness in Your name as we seek to be the fruitiest kids You've got!  

We love You, Lord.  Thank You for loving us first.  In Christ's name I pray.  Amen.