Darkness and Light

If I say, "Surely the darkness will overwhelm me,

and the light around me will be night." Even the darkness

is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day.

Darkness and light are alike to You.

Psalm 139:11-12

Christmas

I watched as stacks of presents were unwrapped by small,
excited fingers. Squeals of delight broke the silence filling the room with excitement and glee. So much work had gone into making the day special. So many hours of decorating, shopping and wrapping, of cleaning and cooking. So much to make one day memorable and lovely. And as I sat watching it was all worth it. It was the best Christmas we've had in a long time. Not because of the presents. Not because of the food. Not because of a clean, decorated house. All those things were nice. But rather it was because we were all together, blessed by the gift of God, blessed by love for each other, blessed by letting go of control and expectations and just allowing the day to happen. It was a wonderful Christmas.

Little Girl

Little girl, little girl,
Sinking beneath the waves.
Who has pushed you down there?
Did you not learn to behave?

Sinking faster, sinking faster,
Little girl gone astray.
Has your heart been broken?
Did you not get your way?

Counting breaths, counting breaths
Water begins to invade.
When will it happen?
When will you begin to fade?

Rock bottom, rock bottom,
Rough sand hits her face.
Will you stop now?
Will you plead your sorry case?

Swallowed whole, swallowed whole,
In the belly of a whale.
All by herself now,
With no one to tell her tale.

Little girl, little girl,
Alone in a big fish.
She met her loving Maker
Who gave her her one greatest wish.

Revived now, revived now
To do the Lords will.
Will she do it?
Will she do it?

Oh, little girl!

Something to Celebrate

Sometimes I feel caged in by my emotions. They are ugly and mean and shake me something fierce. One day I'm going to get out of the cage and hit them on the head with a rolling pin - a big heavy porcelain one. I'm going to whack them so hard that their heads will fall off and I will never again be held captive by them. And then I will throw myself a party. That will be something to celebrate. Hip, hip, hurray!

I Love Rainy Mornings

I love rainy mornings when I can hear the "drip, drop, drip, drop" on my roof top.

I love rainy mornings when I'm feeling so groggy and all my windows are foggy.

I love rainy mornings when I feel all warm and cozy and my cheeks get rosy.

I love rainy mornings when I can walk in the lane getting wet from all the rain.

Today is a rainy morning. I love this morning.

Beary Friendly

Even though I had nightmares last night that the bear was coming to

eat me, I actually think it's quite friendly! He wanted out - just as I thought.

I stand at the door and look in at the bear. He is in anguish. He is angry. He wants out. I am trepidatious but intrigued. Shall I fight the guard and let him out? Will he eat me alive? Will he run off and hide? Will he be tame? Is it the injustice of being behind bars, locked away, that makes him angry. Maybe he just wants to be known. Maybe he must be known.

I look in through the bars, nervous and afraid, yet very tempted to swing wide open that door...

All Noble Things Are Difficult

"Enter ye in at the strait gate...because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way..." Matthew 7:13-14

If we are going to live as disciples of Jesus, we have to remember that all noble things are difficult. The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty of it does not make us faint and cave in, it rouses us up to overcome. Do we so appreciate the marvellous salvation of Jesus Christ that we are our utmost for His highest?

God saves men by His sovereign grace through the Atonement of Jesus; He works in us to will and to do of His good pleasure; but we have to work out that salvation in practical living. If once we start on the basis of His Redemption to do what He commands, we find that we can do it. If we fail, it is because we have not practised. The crisis will reveal whether we have been practising or not. If we obey the Spirit of God and practise in our physical life what God has put in us by His Spirit, then when the crisis comes, we shall find that our own nature as well as the grace of God will stand by us.

Thank God He does give us difficult things to do! His salvation is a glad thing, but it is also a heroic, holy thing. It tests us for all we are worth. Jesus is bringing many "sons" unto glory, and God will not shield us from the requirements of a son. God's grace turns out men and women with a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, not milksops. It takes a tremendous amount of discipline to live the noble life of a disciple of Jesus in actual things. It is always necessary to make an effort to be noble.

Oswald Chambers My Utmost for His Highest, July 7

Pandora's Box

Have you noticed that when you give God permission to know you and sift through your heart, it's kind of like opening Pandora's box? Many wonderful things can come out. Unknown beauties that have been lying dormant just waiting to be brought up. But equally as awful things also come. The impurities that have started out as little specks so little and insignificant have grown and festered in the dark shadows and hidden places. Sometimes I want to close the box and take back the permission I gave Him. "Never mind, I was mistaken. I don't want to be known. I don't want the darkness to be found!" Maybe if I ignore it and don't see it, nobody will know it's there. Such folly in that thought. Any darkness brought to light can only be light. God's joy is to create in me a pure heart - to open the box wide open so that light may fill it's every space. And then I will will be like a mirror magnifying His face!

Weeds

My little potted garden is such a source of inspiration to me. It seems that every time I go out on my porch to work with my trees and flowers God gives me a deep thought to ponder. This morning was no different. On my back porch I have several potted trees. The Benjamin Ficas is the one I was working on. When I first moved into my apartment, it was pretty much dead. I don’t even think it had leaves. Dead reed type grass stuck up in the pot at the base of the tree – jutting out in browns and yellows. It made me sad to think it would die so I began watering it daily. After a time it really began to perk up. I was so happy. The tree had come back to life and even the brown grass began to see green growing up in between it.

It has been several years since I began this relationship with my Ficas. It has grown so much and the leaves are green and healthy. And every now and again I have to cut the grass that grows around it since it grows so high and looks untidy. Cutting my grass was the task on my list today. It had been way too long and the long green weeds were out of control. I got my scissors (which make a great lawnmower!) out and began to cut back the green. As I worked I remembered my brother telling me when he visited last that I could pull out the dead brown weeds to make more room for the green to grow. What a novel idea. I had left all the dead stuff from when I first moved here – not even thinking that I could get rid of it. Thinking this was a good idea, I began pulling the brown out in large clumps. Only it wasn’t just the dead stuff that was coming. The green grass was being pulled out as well. At first I was saddened by the thought of losing my mini lawn, but then the thought hit me “It’s not grass at all – it’s weeds out of control and if I remove all the weeds, dead and alive, it will give the tree more room to grow.” That was my thought to ponder.

Immediately I thought of my life. Have I been nurturing the weeds that grow in my life? Do I cut them back when they get too unruly so they look like real grass all the while not realizing that it’s not grass at all but weeds that choke out the healthy life God wants for me? I wonder how many weeds are growing in my life. I wonder if it’s easier for others to see the weeds than for me to see them. I wonder if I have the courage to pull them out. Or even better, I wonder if I am brave enough to allow God to pull them out. He certainly can get the root whereas I often just get the top off only to have it grow back up again. Hmmm.

Weeds.

Maybe if the weeds are pulled out, real grass can be planted in its place. Maybe in the place of bitterness there would be a sweet disposition. In place of jealousy and envy there would be thankfulness and contentment. Joy instead of sorrow. Hope instead of despair. Security instead of fear. Praise instead of complaints. Truth instead of lies.

Oh Lord, Gardener of my soul, please pull out the weeds that have been growing unchecked in the soil of my heart. Pull them out by their roots so they will no longer have residence within me and leave in their place the seeds of righteousness and love.

Dessert

I’ve been thinking a lot about dessert lately. Of all those wonderful little delicacies that make dinner worth eating. Of a new plate with sweet treats that bring pleasure to my pallet. It doesn’t even matter what comes on the plate, really, unless of course it has something I don’t like on it and then I’m sure to have an opinion.

Why have I been thinking about this so much? I guess I feel like my plate is empty. A lot has been taken off recently. Good things and bad things, some hard to let go and others not so much so. It seems as if I sit at a table before a plate on which there is nothing left (let me stress the word “seems” here; I know full and well that my plate is not completely empty – it never is totally, but I speak of feelings within that I can best express figuratively through creative writing). Now this can be a bad thing or it can be a good thing. Bad because I could begin replacing what has been taken off with that which isn’t supposed to be there. I could fill the plate just for the sake of filling it. But it also could be a good thing. Good because God will fill that plate with the good gifts from His hand if I am patient and wait for Him. If He has taken anything off my plate, it is for the purpose of bringing Him glory, for making me more like Him, and for showing His love to a lost and broken world. It is for the purpose of emptying me of me and filling me to all fullness with Him. And that’s dessert. That’s the best held back until after the meal has been eaten.

So I’m thinking a lot about dessert lately. I look forward to what He’s going to bring me. I anticipate the beautiful China that will hold the sweet treats chosen by the Chef especially for me. I can’t wait to bite into each tasty morsel. And I may just get fat waiting since I keep dreaming of all the sweets I will get to eat which makes me very unfiguratively hungry. No matter - I am still looking forward to dessert.

My Task

I am called to live in perfect relation to God so that my life produces a longing after God in other lives, not admiration for myself. Thoughts about myself hinder my usefulness to God. God is not after perfecing me to be a specimen in His showcase; He is getting me to the place where He can use me. Let Him do what He likes. (Oswald Chambers, December 2)

Me, the Moon, the Moose, and God

Driving home from work the other night, I felt the moon watching me. I looked at him trying to figure out what was on his mind. And then I think he winked at me because I caught his eye just as it squinted closed. It was barely a yellow slit in the sky, but there was recognition in it. He knew I was looking. Did he know that that night I needed a witness to my existence? One who cared I was on my way home? It was a peculiar moment. The kind that leaves goose bumps on your flesh and makes you feel like there must be more out there than you really think. I smiled and thanked God for the moment but half wished it could last longer. Just me, the moon and my moose* taking in the magnificent view before us.

But of course a moment is only a moment and cannot last longer than a moment. It passed. And of course it wasn't really the moon winking or blinking at me. The thought of this was sobering and my exhilaration quickly melted into despondency as I wished that the moon had indeed been watching me. And then I realized that even better than the moon, it was God Himself from His very heaven with His eyes upon me, watching my existence, thoughtful and caring, letting me know that I am not alone in this world. I do have an audience, an audience of One who sees me as I truly am - a princess with crown on head and royalty running through my veins. I am the daughter of a King - THE KING - and it is for His pleasure alone that I am able to roam, even if at times alone. That aloneness affords me precious and priceless opportunities to realize and experience His loving participation in my life. It blesses me with the freedom to go with haste wherever He chooses. It reminds me that if I could only have one, it is best that I have only Him as my one because He always has been and always will be the only One who is always present for me. What a blissful revelation.

So it was the moon winking at me. God knew it would stop me in my tracks, much like the burning bush caught Moses' attention so long ago. He knew that He had my interest and could speak what He would. He knew that I would listen and hear it true and clear. He knew I would accept it as a gift from His heart to mine. Just me, the moon, the moose* and God. What a glorious moment.

*my Oldsmobile

My Garden

I love my garden. It's happy and green, and it makes me feel happy and green. Because it thrives I believe my thumb must be green. More likely I grow plants that are hard to kill - though if any porch could kill them, it would be mine. During the summer months, it can reach a sweltering 100+ degrees on a hot day. All the heat from the surrounding rooftops seems to gather on my porch. It sure is hot. Each day I have to give all my little friends long drinks. I give them water, I give them food. I clip their dead flowers and branches. I cut back wild shoots of green that grow longer than they should. I pick their flowers. I smell my roses and then prick my fingers on their thorns. I prune them and talk to them. Many a happy hour is spent bent over working for their growth. Their progress brings me great joy when they flourish and a feeling of sadness if they die. These plants are my friends. They rustle and sing in the wind. They invite hummingbirds and butterflies to visit my porch. They provide cheer on dreary days. They give me the opportunity to keep them alive - to be disciplined to care for them. They are beautiful green reminders that life is not all concrete and metal. Sometimes I need that reminder. Oh how I love my garden.

On Snowflakes

"Under the microscope, I found that snowflakes were miracles of beauty; and it seemed a shame that this beauty should not be seen and appreciated by others. Every crystal was a masterpiece of design and no one design was ever repeated. When a snowflake melted, that design was forever lost. Just that much beauty was gone, without leaving any record behind." Wilson Bentley, Photographer, 1925.

I have loved snowflakes ever since growing up in Michigan where for several months of the year they whirl and swirl, dancing to the wind, sometimes floating up before making it to the ground, their descent hindered by the currents of the air they grace. For each kind of storm, a different kind of flake. Dainty, dreamy, delicately drifting, taking its time. Fluffy and weightless. Heavy and wet, more like clumps than individual flakes. Granular and icy, dry and powdery. The "whitening shower" as James Thomson described it. There is no end to their design and detail.

I have felt a special kinship to these crystal beauties as I have watched them, enchanted by their exquisite, delightful dances. I have heard them when they have tranquilly touched white forest floors blanketed by their own powder. I have felt their sting, their crisp chill upon my face when "the ways deep and the weather sharp" (T S Eliot). I have stood outside letting them fall on face and arms and hair until my teeth chattered, my hat was painted white, and the cold had penetrated to my shaking bones. I have watched with the glee of a child exclaiming how this one or that one was the biggest ever - so big that we could see the delicate details as it fluttered by. We used to set out wax paper to catch them, studying their intricacies until we breathed too closely and they melted. Great was our loss when that happened. Oh the joyful hours spent in pursuit of snowflakes. Even now I am enchanted and find immense happiness when I am home "when the icicles hang by the wall" (Shakespeare) and I can follow the furious flurries with my eyes.

Can it be that I am like a snowflake, without a duplicate, without a double? Without a doubt there is no other exactly like me. I have been designed and created by One who specializes in unique masterpieces, One who has blown into me a breath of life that no other can live, and One who has rejoiced over the breathtaking beauty of what He has made in me. I am priceless, unmistakably irreplaceable. Much like the loss of a snowflake when it melts is the loss of me when my life flame flickers out or is extinguished. The same Creator who made each individual snowflake has made me with His hands and with His heart. And though this world may not remember that I offered it anything, He has recorded my coming and going. Even more importantly, He has written my name in His book of life and my spirit will never melt as the ice of a snow crystal will. There will be no shame in the loss because my soul will live forever, a flurry of love for my Father.

Yes I am a snowflake. Take notice that I am specially sculpted. Take joy in the glorious genius of the Creator who knew where to cut to make my miraculous, glistening design. Take pleasure in the pattern that was penned for one purpose. His glory. And then remember that this is you too. You are a snowflake of infinite value, flitting here, swirling there, a blasting blizzard, falling furiously at times, a serene story, simply shining in the light of the sun by day or secretly sparkling in the glow of the moon by night. Without a doubt, whether you like it or not, you are like no other. A snowflake for His glory. Amen.