A Penny for Your Thoughts

If I had a penny for every one of my thoughts in a day,

I would have a sack of coins I could not carry.

 

If I had a drop of water for every tear I have held back,

The tub would overflow and spill onto the floor.

 

If every sigh were combined into a puff of air,

There would be hurricane force winds.

 

If I had everything I have ever wished for,

I would have less than I have now.

 

If I lit a candle for every prayer for those I love,

Someone would be calling the fire department.

Ode to a Wad of Gum

Last Sunday evening, I found a wad of gum stuck to the arm of the chair in church.  This is a bit surprising as the church is in our retirement community, and there are rarely young people in our church services.  I was amused thinking about how the gum got there and who might have left it behind…someone in their second childhood?

Last evening when I went to prayer meeting, I had intended to take something with me…maybe a kitchen knife…to scrape the gum off, but I forgot.  I decided to use the flat edge of my apartment key, which did work just fine.  Bill went and got a couple of paper towels, one of which was soaked with hand sanitizer.  I wrapped up the wad of gum in the dry towel, and cleaned my hands, the key and the arm of the chair with the wet towel.

On the way home, I began to sing in my mind…”Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost over night?”

Then this resulted:

Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the chair arm between Sundays?

Do you wonder where you’ve left it, when you think of it on Mondays?

Did you stick it there because you could not both sing and chew?

Did you think no one would notice even tho’ it was bright blue?

Just why did you stick that wad of gum to the chair?

Well, better that than in some poor old lady’s hair.

Recognizing His Voice

It struck me recently that there are two types of individuals at the extremes who recognize Jesus Christ.  One group is His sheep who hear His voice, know it, and follow Him. (John 10:27  My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.)   The other group are the demons.  There are several examples in the Bible of demons or demon possessed individuals who know who He is and declare it. (Luke 4:33-34  In the synagogue there was a man possessed by a demon…he cried out at the top of his voice…I know who you are…the Holy One of God.)

What about the mass of humanity in the middle?  Why do so many have no genuine perception of who He is?  I suppose in some cases they just lack spiritual discernment.  Others may be capable of spiritual discernment, but they are too busy or too distracted by other voices to recognize the voice of Jesus calling them.

There used to be an ad for RCA of a dog listening intently at the open bell of a gramophone.   (That was an old-fashioned way of listening to music for those of you too young to know.) The caption was “His master’s voice.”  Why are so few people listening for and recognizing the voice of The Master?

Sometimes children run away when their parents call to them, because they do not realize that they are in danger.  They ignore their parents voice thinking it is all a big joke.  It scares me to think of what can potentially happen in these situations in both the literal and figurative sense.

When my son was about 10, he and a friend were playing happily in our backyard.  I was sitting at my sewing machine in front of a large second floor window which faced the street.  I glanced up from my sewing and realized that a group of police were spaced out across the street and sidewalk going through the neighborhood methodically with weapons drawn.  Some had pistols, and some had rifles.  I knew it must mean that someone dangerous had been spotted in the neighborhood.  I dashed downstairs and out the back door.  I called to my son and his friend, “Come to the house now!  Run!  Don’t ask questions.”  Both boys came running as fast as they could.  I was relieved to see their immediate obedience to my voice.  I later learned that someone had been seen in the neighborhood brandishing a gun.

Contrasting that…when I was about 6 years old, I had a dog who didn’t mind well.  As I waited for the bus one morning at the side of the road, the dog danced around me.  I saw a dump truck coming and called to the dog patting my leg for him to come to me.  Instead, he danced merrily away from me and in front of the truck.  He was hit.  The bus came, and I got on it not knowing if the dog was dead or alive.  I sat in school all day in misery.  The dog did not survive his disobedience.  I was sad when I got home and learned he was dead, but I learned an important lesson.  If someone wiser than you calls and beckons, you need to respond in obedience.

I am afraid that a great many people, some of whom I know, are dancing around the voice beckoning to them.  They have no idea there is a dump truck speeding toward them.

When Jesus calls, even the demons recognize His voice.

If you are not one of His sheep, because you haven’t responded yet, please listen for the call and run to Him.  Something worse than a dump truck is headed your way.

Resurrection Dawn

If I had stood at Calvary and viewed the darkness there,

Looked up and seen my dying friend and felt the deep despair,

Of seeing helpless him on whom I thought I could depend,

I surely might have cried out, “O God, this is the end.”

 

If I had stood outside the tomb and seen the dreadful stone,

That sealed in the kindness man that I had ever known,

I might have thought, “He wasn’t God…he was only a friend.”

And in my grief, I would have sobbed, “This is indeed the end.”

 

But a new day was coming.  There was sunrise near at hand.

There would be a glorious morning; new life was in the plan.

For Christ conquered death and rose again upon an Easter morn,

And just as surely as he lives, we too will see the dawn.

 

So, if today you’re feeling so overwhelmed by life,

If you cannot make sense of the confusion and the strife,

Put your faith in him who conquered death; eternity you’ll spend,

In lifting up your praise to him...this life is not the end!

 

For a new day IS coming.  There is sunrise near at hand.

There will be a glorious morning; new life is in the plan.

For Christ conquered death and rose again upon an Easter morn,

And just as surely as he lives, we too will see THE DAWN!

 

                                               

                                       (adapted from something I wrote about 35 years ago)

No way out, but through...

A friend with several children told me that during her first experience with childbirth, she was sure she was going to die and was resigned to it.  The second time, she knew she wouldn’t die and wished she could.  As a pregnant woman nears the time of labor and delivery, she realizes there is no way out of the experience except through it.  There is going to be pain, but she choses to look beyond that to the joy of a newborn baby she will hold and love.  If she focused too much on the experience of birth or on the work of raising that sweet little child, it would be frightening and overwhelming.

I wonder if women understand better than men do what Christ must have felt as he looked forward to the cross and then beyond it.  We know that he agonized in the Garden of Gethsemane.  It is recorded in Luke 22:44 that he struggled so that “his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.”  He pleaded that if it was in the Father’s will, he could be spared what he knew lay ahead.  His picture of what he would endure was very clear.  Because he was with the Father from the beginning, he was part of the planning of this horrible event, and completely understood its necessity.

But, just as a woman looks beyond the painful experience to the joyful one…for the joy set before him (he) endured the cross, scorning its shame…(Hebrews 12:2).

We can imagine only a tiny portion of what Christ must have endured.  His pain was not just physical.  The anguish of bearing the sins of all of us is beyond our capacity to understand.  But He knew the joy on the other side.  He knew his oneness with the Father would be restored and that he was purchasing joy and reunion for all of us.

As we are confronted with various types of trouble and pain in this life, we can be thankful for a Savior who understands and who endured.

Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

Since there is no way out but through, let us keep our eyes on Jesus.

Influential Women in My Life

I have seen many posts this past month on the importance of various women.  It has made me think about some women who have been very important to me.  Obviously, my mother and my grandmothers were a major influence.  I think I could write an entire book about them.  I also enjoyed my mother-in-law and appreciated talking with her.  But, I would like to give some credit to a few others also.

Aunt Ruth W—was an example of a highly intelligent woman who made her way in what was at the time a man’s world.  During World War II, she advanced to a position normally held by a man with the Bethlehem Steel Company.  When they tried to “demote” her after the war, she stood her ground and retained the position.  When feminism emerged, the company realized they did not have many female executives and wanted to promote her, but that would have required a move to the corporate office in another state.  She wasn’t open to the idea of moving at that point in her life.  She was an assertive personality, cultured and inquisitive.  She was very kind to me.  I loved going downtown to visit her at her office and going out for lunch in a local “tearoom.”

Gertrude M—a rather formidable woman who rarely smiled.  She had prior to marriage been part of the YWCA movement.  She attended the church we began to attend when I was six years old.  She directed the camp I attended every summer.  She saw to it that we memorized a Psalm every summer at camp.  She made me a senior counselor responsible for a group of the youngest girls and had me teaching them the Bible lessons when I was only 15.  That had a big impact on my life and belief in what I could do.

Edna H—was my Pioneer Girl Pal.  She gave me loving attention over several years.  I knew I always had someone on my side.

Mary P—an extraordinarily sweet and kind lady who was my Sunday School teacher at some point in my teen years.  She provided her basement as a meeting place for a Bible Club after school during my teen years also.  I always enjoyed talking with her.

June R—a pastor’s wife at the point where I was making important decisions in my life.  She influenced my choice of nursing school and college.  I babysat for her small children.  She and her husband would bring me books from the Christian bookstore to pay for my babysitting as I didn’t want to take money from them, and I didn’t get many opportunities to go to the Christian bookstore.

Edith L—a “mother” away from home while I was in nursing school.  I could drop in at her home pretty much anytime and feel welcomed.  She gave wise counsel and prayed for me.  She is nearly 100 years old and is still declaring the message of Christ by leading a Bible study in her nursing home.

Louise N—another “mother” while I was in college.  I cleaned her house to pay for my room one year, and this afforded many chances for conversation during which she shared from her heart concerning some of her life experiences.  She prayed for me for years after I graduated from college.

I have never wanted to be exactly like any woman I have known.  During my teen years, I remember one of my close friends saying she wanted to be just like a certain woman in our church.  I was actually a bit puzzled by this, as I couldn’t think of anyone I wanted to be exactly like.

After my Mother’s funeral service at which she had been justifiably highly praised, someone said to me, “Well…you’re never going to live up to that!”  I thought it was a careless thing for her to say and would have hurt most daughters who were about to bury their mother.  I actually found it a bit amusing. 

As much as I adored my Mother, I never expected to be just like her.  God makes each of us uniquely, and we each have a purpose we need to fulfill.  My job is not to be like anyone else, but to be who God made me to be.

I do think most women are sweeter than I am, and they clearly tolerate women’s meetings where the discussion rambles down all sorts of side roads better than I do!  But, sometimes having a brain that charges down the tracks toward the station like a freight train is helpful.  I hope my granddaughters grow up knowing that it’s okay to be atypical.  I pray they will find God’s special path for them.

Follow the Science

We have heard a lot in recent days about “following the science.”  This is something that Biden et al have pledged to do.  The problem is that they are only following the science when it fits their agenda.  We are told we must follow the science related to COVID…even though some of it is pretty tentative at this point.  This has been a new situation with many unknowns.  We don’t always know if we are following the science or if the experts are making their best guess.  On the other hand, there is some definitive science being ignored by these same people.

We know that having cosmetic surgery to make one’s ears pointy does not change that person into an elf.

We know that having a face lift and Botox injections to make one’s face look younger does not make one’s internal organs younger.

We know that wearing blackface does not make one a black person…to say nothing of the fact that it is currently an anathema.

Why does anyone think that having his Adam’s apple shaved, male genitalia removed and taking hormones will make one female?  The science is that every cell in that person’s body screams MALE.

Similarly, how can taking hormones, binding or removing breasts, and having female genitalia altered cause one to actually become male?  Every one of the trillions of cells in the body still contains XX chromosomes.

The LGBTQ community has in recent years gained enormous power and influence.  They have caused people who can’t think about the science clearly to believe that they must be accommodated.  I have lived long enough to remember when individuals with these inclinations were classified as having a mental health issue.  If your brain is telling you something that doesn’t fit with the reality of your anatomy, there is a problem.  This is not old-fashioned erroneous thinking.  This is factual and scientific.

These individuals should be loved and cared for as anyone is, but we are doing them a disservice if we allow them to think that the disjoint between the mental and physical is normal.  I would propose that, the suicide rate and mental health issues these folks experience is not just a result of not being accepted by others for who they believe themselves to be.  It results from a deep and inescapable realization that they themselves can’t accept who they are believing themselves to be.  They need our love and support.  What they don’t need is a pat on the back….Great!  Just go out there and be whoever.  They are dying inside.  They are searching and what they desire is always just beyond their grasp.

Most of them do not realize that they are looking for God.  No human love brings fulfillment.  You can alter your physical appearance, but your spirit will still yearn for something more.