Thursday, May 31, 2018

Come Into My Room


Come into my room, Sweetheart. Come into my room and dine.  I, myself, will serve the bread. I’ll bring the salad and the wine.



And when I see you are through, I’ll serve the main course to you.



 
I will tend to you in the dining chamber like the fine waiter does.  At the fine restaurant you won’t be ashamed.  

 Turn the pages, my Dear, let me feed you your fill;  choice morsels, rich blends with the sage or the dill.



Let me surprise you by quenching your thirst. Let me awaken your hunger for more. Then come again, and I’ll wait at the door.




Your love, O Eternal One, towers high into the heavens.
    Even the skies are lower than Your faithfulness.
Your justice is like the majestic mountains.
    Your judgments are as deep as the oceans, and yet in Your greatness,
    You, O Eternal, offer life for every person and animal.

Your strong love, O True God, is precious.
    All people run for shelter under the shadow of Your wings.
In Your house, they eat and are full at Your table.
    They drink from the river of Your overflowing kindness.
You have the fountain of life that quenches our thirst.
    Your light has opened our eyes and awakened our souls. Psalms 36:5-9

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

A Peaceful Lil' Ditty in May

In the cleft of the rock I lay down.
The world thrashes and throws, I sleep sound.
Behind the surges and sounds
Peace surrounds.
In the cleft of the rock I lay down.

In the light of Your Word I stand tall.
With a handhold and staff
I don’t fall
Let rivers empty on me
But soon they will see
That in the light of Your Word I stand tall.

In the garden the plantings grow strong
Like the lilies and vines, I belong
Toward the sun’s glow we go
And all men will know
That in the garden the plantings grow strong

Friday, May 25, 2018

Light is a Beacon of Love


The light outside is muted by cloud cover today in May.  Verdant leaves are shaky-shaking on limbs outside my window, hinting of the spring breezes.  I was out in the yard early when only a dim outline of the farm was visible, and only the hint of the coming morning could be seen, yet the faintest light had set the birds all to singing.  The dimness was warm and full of a chorus.  I think light is a beacon of love, and even the faint glow of predawn has the power to erupt the morning with song.



When He launched forth the first words in the story of Him and humanity, I think God launched a beacon of His love for eternity, “Let there be light”. Out of His throbbing love-heart He spoke His ancient love language, “Let there be light” and through the misted window I see it today.



I search the words of ole’ Merriam-Webster to explore some more. A beacon is a signal fire commonly on a hill, tower, or pole, they say. It’s a lighthouse or other signal for guidance, and it is a source of light or inspiration. Yes, I think it’s HIS beacon of love sitting here in my room lit now with the rising sun, the waking kind. It is a beacon to God.

He lit up our world before giving us eyes to see it.  When He spoke the light, he spoke a comfort for every generation to come. He spoke the way forward in Him. 




In the light He spoke out His kindest intentions for the earth, a glow that feeds us, shows us the way, comforts us in the midnight hour, and shines to make a new day.  Light is a beacon of love…I just like to say it.  And if you are surrounded by it, if your face is warmed in its rays, if you can see the words lit up on this screen then you know some about a beacon and you know a bit about an ancient love story that’s pages begin in light.





God: Let there be light.
And light flashed into being. God saw that the light was beautiful and good, and He separated the light from the darkness. Genesis 1:3-4

Monday, February 19, 2018

A Farm Forum

A farm forum, ready to convene just for me.  A choir of frogs sing praise from a small pond out back in the middle of February.  They pass their invitation to join the preliminaries of song; their funny prelude to the discussion-- the discovery. 


 A surging within the forum of fields and yards tucked round with fences opens a morning wide.  A garden plot ready to tell mysteries to me, share ideas, reason it all out in the softness of ready soil; ready to receive the seeds that are questions in me.  I will tuck them in and wait-- soon to poke quietly through the earth in answer.









A forum of land and sky calling a morning meeting, preparing for a rousing discussion for a searcher and seeker! How have I attained such good fortune to be invited among such wise handlers of divine secrets? 

                                   

I stand among the furry-wise who take their places at their own gates, live their good lives, sowing and reaping just what they were perfected to. Minding their own business. One calls the meeting to order with a “baaa!”  I take my seat among them.

                               

A magnificent forum of farm and feeling, of astute players all knowing their place.  OH!  I hear a pony pounding his gavel down, with fine hooves he calls this session to order.  I humbly join the meeting, pen in hand.  

                                


Where is your forum of friends?  Where are you planted to preach a good word from the wealth of your own sown heart?  Where does your forum convene? :) 

                                   

Monday, January 15, 2018

If My Words

If my words had substance and could be seen as they launch out, would they lift and fill the morning sky? Would they praise up with the clouds?




If my words spoke out in shades of color, and if they were hot or cold, would my world be bright with rainbows, and would You cuddle in their warmth?




If my words had weightiness and could remain just where they fall, would they pile right up to heaven, and build a monument to Your worth?





If my words were lofty, and could speak to kings and queens, would  they hear Your invitation and come to the great wedding feast?

                                             




If my words were humble and if they were safe for all, would You trust me with the "least of these", and would You send me to the lost?

If my words could reach You, and I know that they do, I would set an echo in the wind to repeat my LOVE for You!







  

Saturday, January 13, 2018

It's a Saturday


It's a Saturday and a picture taking kind of day it seems to me.  Everything outside seemed to expand in my mind's eye as I walked around to enjoy a Saturday, doing chores and feeding the critters.   I snapped photos here and there, but the best things that I saw were in another lens. 



 In "another lens" I saw new fences stretched tight across the back acres, mended and painted ones on the north side, and new pickets around the little red shed out front. Such expansion!


I saw new babies on tiny hooves storming the little pasture with exuberance while their mothers were watching them with a cautious eye.  




  I saw more mulch on the garden holding in the rain and holding back the weeds. I saw rows of vegetables sprouting up, vines clinging to the arbor, Arkansas black apple trees lining the south field, flowers waving in the warm breeze, and such good things as that.


summer
                               

It is January, though, and cold.  All of this envisioning reminded me of this: 



Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is being sure of what we hope for, being convinced of what we do not see.

Outside, the baby goats are still snugged tight inside their mothers, I can not see them yet. Maybe they will arrive soon.  The apple trees are on order at the nursery, the fencing is yet in a roll on the ground, and the pile of mulch waits to be spread over the garden ground on a warmer day.  The seeds are in bottles in the kitchen, and Hope is a wonderful thing.



HOPE !



Friday, January 12, 2018

Soup and Jesus

I drove to the other side of our small town and then up the snaking and steep hill to the top of a mountain called Manitou. I've made the climb many times over the last decade, and then some.  The sign at the top says, YWAM Ozarks., which stands for Youth With a Mission, which, to me, stands for laid down lovers of Jesus who serve and traverse the world to bring His life to all they encounter, including me and this little town.  It stands for missionaries, teachers, friends and a family. 💓

Now I'm back in my room remembering the evening there called, "Soup and Jesus".  "Soup and Jesus" is a meal, a celebrating friendships, an offering of song and teaching and time together.   A verse sat beside each plate in keeping with the theme of the evening;  Remembering.  Look! Here is my verse on the bright blue card! I took a picture of it for you.   


I want to remember.  This call resonates deep within me. I want to steward the "wonder" of Jesus well with the remembering.  Always remembering. 

So, we ate the salad, the wonderful soup, and the bread that no one can get quite enough of.  Over dinner and coffee we reconnect and renew with time spent together. 

It is late now, but before I rest, I'm remembering the faces around the table and around the room.  I'm remembering the words spoken and songs sung.  I'm sleepy now, but remembering just a little longer.  😊  



Thursday, January 11, 2018

The First Step

“Sit” You say, “sit down”.  And how this puzzles us all.  “Sit” You say, “sit down” while you watch us run far down the road. 
“Sit”, you say, “sit down”, as we raise boulders over our heads. We flex and strain in the heat of the day to show You that we are saved. 
“Rest”, you say, “rest in me”, for my blood finished it all, but we work on through the night hoping that what we do gives us a better right. 
“Recline”, you say, “lie back on the grace that makes you Mine."  Take the first step, and just fall back being caught up in His love. 

And once seated with Him, once reclined and laid low, then in the same grace we walk with Him, hand in hand down that same road.  

Ephesians 2:6 He raised us up with Him and seated us in the heavenly realms with our beloved Jesus the Anointed, the Liberating King.

8-9 For it’s by God’s grace that you have been saved. You receive it through faith. It was not our plan or our effort. It is God’s gift, pure and simple.