Wisdom From The Ark

I did not compose this and neither do I know from where it comes. But I thought it was great and wanted to share it with you. Blessings!

Wisdom from the Ark – Genesis 6-9
1. Don’t miss the boat.
2. Remember that we are all in the same boat.
3. Plan ahead. It wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark.
4. Stay fit. When you’re 600 years old, someone may ask you to do something really big.
5. Don’t listen to critics, just get on with the job that needs to be done.
6. Build your future on high ground.
7. For safety’s sake, travel in pairs.
8. Speed isn’t always an advantage. The snails were on board with the cheetahs.
9. When you’re stressed, float awhile.
10. Remember the ark was built by amateurs, the Titanic by professionals.
11. No matter the storm, when you are with God, there’s always a rainbow waiting.

Ouch.

The eventful week ahead begins to bombard my thoughts.

Do the kids’ school work…keep the house decent…don’t get behind in the laundry…balance the budget…and this and that, here and there.

Completely distracted by the “to do’s” of the upcoming week, I become oblivious to all those surrounding me and all the happenings taking place beside me. There are even times that I quietly sneak out a scrap of paper, dig for a workable pen and jot down the nagging notions running wild in hopes of finding some relief.

My mind may not be present but physically I am right alongside of everyone else, doing the right thing. Humbly, I must admit that my heart scarcely can take in a moment for the distractions overwhelmingly take control. I look good. I’m doing my part. Yet my heart is not in it.

But suddenly something eventually rips me away from my thoughts. Maybe it’s a change in the melodic key or a favorite song or perhaps simply an instruction, “You may be seated” coming from the stage.

And then I remember I am in church.

I am in church doing the good deeds, doing my part…yet it’s all an empty sacrifice.

The Lord stepped on my toes this week as I read His Word:

“I hate all your show and pretense – the hypocrisy of your religious festivals and solemn assemblies. I will not accept your burnt offerings and grain offerings. I won’t even notice all your choice peace offerings. Away with your noisy hymns of praise! I will not listen to the music of your harps. Instead, I want to see a mighty flood of justice, an endless river of righteous living.”

Amos 5:21-24

Ouch.
Oh Lord, forgive me.
Rid me of showy rituals.
Prepare my heart for true worship through righteous living.

Eileen...my hero

Over the river and through the woods...and that truly was the drive to Grandmama Eileen's house. Eileen, the truest depiction of a lady, was my hero in many ways...

After surviving the curves of the TN mountains, it was always a relief to see the sign read "Sunset Drive" for we knew the aroma of fantastic southern cooking awaited us along with the firm yet loving squeezes and hugs of our sweet Eileen. Nothing beat that single moment. Even today, my mind can take me back at any moment, to that precious home and experience it all over again...and in my mind it will always be, even if only in my thoughts. Eileen took charge in her kitchen as much as an experienced and well-trained chef would. Her arthritic hands could create the most beautiful desserts, divine mashed potatoes and most amazing fried chicken. Her talent and attention to detail ran every recipe and her ability to make a "pretty party" (as my mom says) always made for the most memorable family gatherings. Her oblong table, which seemed to dominate the dining room, never went without a beautiful and starched white table cloth. Fine china and crystal goblets surrounded the table and beautiful silver pieces decorated each setting. And after all her hard work, family gathered around to tell stories of old. Eileen would sit at the head of the table, ever so quietly, smiling and soaking in every single moment of her family all together.

Eileen, a true lady, soft spoken, shy, quiet...will forever be my hero.

I don't recall much of her speaking of her faith, however, there was never a deep necessity for her actions spoke all we needed to hear. Church attendance regularly occupied her weekends. She remained loyal and respectful to her husband. Her entire life focused on serving others. She gave and gave, never thinking of herself...gave of her time and talent. Her Bible always sat in plain sight and wore an aged and used appearance.

Eileen, a true servant of our great God, a follower of Christ...will forever be my hero.

My lovely hero lived her last day on this earth this week. She now resides with our Savior, Jesus Christ. Yet Eileen will always remain my hero. I will forever treasure her and remember her. And I hope and pray I can pass on the legacy she handed down to me as beautifully and elegantly as she did.

Eileen, resident with Christ in eternity, living in final peace...will forever be my hero.

Mighty Triumph

"Oh, please help us against our enemies, for all human help is useless.  With God's help we will do mighty things for he will trample down our foes."
Psalm 108:12-13

Enemies haunted David throughout his life.  They wanted nothing more than for David to be rid of and forgotten forever. (Ps. 109:15) 

However, David sought the Lord.  In all things, he desired God to be glorified.  And although the enemy's goal was to destroy, God had mightier plans.  The enemy desired David's name never to be remembered, God trampled over the enemies and his kingship lasted.

Despite the evil plot against David, he is remembered even today.  Countless people learn of David and his life all over the world.  He has never been forgotten, thanks to our great God!

 

David by Michelangelo in The Gallery of the Accademia di Belle Arti in Florence

I know the same enemy attacks me daily.  Pride...fear...selfishness...they all fight for control in my life.  But I must believe that God, and only God, will help me overcome in mighty ways.  He will trample...and triumph!

"But I will give repeated thanks to the Lord, praising him to everyone.  For he stands beside the needy, ready to save them from those who condemn them." 

Psalm 109:30-31

I hope...

Christmas...sometimes just the word stirs my heart...makes my heart skip a beat.

The whole year long, I plan...

Anticipating the gifts and the candy and the food and the parties...and the list goes on and on.

Yet when the time arrives, the excitement only falls to the ground with anticlimactic feelings.

Stress.

Rushing.

Crowds.

Money.

Is it all really worth it?

I put my hope in gifts only to find the excitement smothered like the clouds smother the January sun.

I hope to impress my guests so I plan and cook and labor on my feet in the kitchen...

 hour after hour...

 only to crash into bed at night wondering, "Was it really worth it?"

And, oh, the decorations!  Hopefully they will be perfect...

maybe a lovely hint of Southern Living

or as chic and stylish as HGTV.

In and of themselves, the things for which I hope are not so bad.

However, it is my prayer that those hopes fade next to the manger.

I desperately hope the worldly things diminish next our Lord.

I hope my hope is heavenly.

"We are merely moving shadow,

and all our busy rushing ends in nothing.

We heap up wealth, not knowing who will reap it.

And so, Lord, where do I put my hope?

My hope is in you."

Psalm 29:6-7

What Do Your Walls Say?

While the enemy smothered, overwhelmed and struck with seemingly unending power, Habakkuk cried out to the Lord in utter helplessness.  Nothing seemed to ease the suffering.  No help hung over the horizon.

And then God spoke.

God knew every detail, every hint of evil in the hearts of the Chaldeans.  And in the end, God reigned.

In His message of woe to the enemy, one single verse struck a chord deep in my heart... 

"The very stones in the walls cry out against you, and the beams in the ceiling echo the complaint."
Habakkuk 2:11

Even the walls of their homes sensed the evil.  I imagine the eariness one might feel walking through the doors of their big houses built through dishonest gain.

But before I could go on any further, splattering judgement on their homes, God turned it around and, in my heart, asked me the question:  What do your walls say?

As my children grow older and create more memories, what will they remember?  Someday, they will leave our home to begin their own families...what will our walls speak to them?

Laughter in the Walls

by Bob Benson

I pass a lot of houses on my way home,

some pretty,

some expensive,

some inviting -

but my heart always skips a beat

when I turn down the road

and see my house nestled against the hill.

I guess I'm especially proud

of the house and the way it looks because

I drew the plans myself.

It started out large enough for us -

I even had a study -

two teenaged boys now reside in there.

And it had a guest room -

my girl and nine dolls are now permanent guests.

It had a small room Peg

had hoped would be her sewing room-

the two boys swinging on the dutch door

have claimed this room as their own.

So it really doesn't look now

as if I am much of an architect.

But it will get larger again-

one by one they will go away

to work,

to college,

to service,

to their own houses,

and then there will be room-

a guest room,

a study,

and a sewing room

for just the two of us.

But it won't be empty-

every corner,

every room,

every nick

in the coffee table

will be crowded with memories.

Memories of picnics,

parties, Christmases,

bedside vigils, summers,

fires, winters, going barefoot,

leaving for vacation, cats,

graduations, first dates,

ballgames, arguments,

washing dishes, bicycles,

dogs, boat rides,

getting home from vacation,

meals, rabbits and

a thousand other things

that fill the lives

of those who would raise five.

And Peg and I will sit

quietly by the fire

and listen to the

laughter in the walls.

Almost A Stifle

The most stressful moments of a single day always insist of moving my children from point A to point B...in a parking lot! 

"Hold my hand!" 
"Watch out!" 
"Car!!!"

Blood pressure rises.  Tone of voice, serious.  Not to mention the heavy burden of trying to appear to be the perfect mom by keeping my cool, all the while my insides run wild!

Many times, I miss a precious moment tucked in between these hair raising experiences.  For instance...

We finally approached the door yet my motherly control still wanted knowledge of every finger and toe's whereabouts.  My youngest, age 3, darted away from me with all the confidence of the world.  My heart pounded.  Frustration elevated.  And in that brief moment, I just about missed it.

He approached the door, spread out his arms as though he were just about to embrace the world with a giant hug, his chest puffed out with confidence as he stood facing the door...waiting for "the force".  Sure enough, the doors swung open simply through the power of his presence! 

Right at the moment I about landed into him for running off, a stranger giggled at the humor of this little child.  The eyes of my heart opened at the sound of the giggle and I realized I almost missed it.  Consumed with things going exactly as I had planned, I almost missed a humorous and memorable moment.  My need to control almost stifled a memory.

And then I remembered...

"Do not stifle the Holy Spirit."
(1 Thessalonians 5:19)

The need to control my life interferes often.  I wonder how many moments I have missed because of my tight fist hold on life.  And I question how many times have I stifled the Holy Spirit, stuffing him down into the depths, ignoring his prompting, all for my control's sake, only to miss an opportunity...

to grow.
to evangelize.
to encourage.
to endure with peace.
to walk forward with joy.
to be in God's will.

I leave you with this prayer...

"I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit.  Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him.  Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong."
Ephesians 3:16-17