Remembering with Thanksgiving

Remembering with Thanksgiving

Until I was thirty years of age, Christmas was spent with my parents and siblings, my grandparents, and five aunts and uncles and many cousins.  We talked loudly and late and started again early in the morning.  We played games, sang (often singing through the main selections of the Messiah), and talked. 

But Christmas Day took special meaning.  We had a Christmas program of our own before we opened presents.  Some things were constant:  We sang carols; Aunt Joy read The Bird’s Christmas Carol; Aunt Libby and Uncle Walt sang Silver Bells; Aunt Jessie read Christmas on the Frontier; the younger children often sang special carols or played a Christmas carol on whatever instrument they were learning; when I was in college as a speech major, I often gave a Christmas reading.   All of us together quoted Luke 2, with the younger ones learning a little bit more every year.  The program often seemed much too long.

The end of the program never varied, and that is the part of the tradition that I miss the most.  Granddad would ask what God had taught us during the year, what we were most grateful for.  The youngest might simply say they were glad they got to come to Grandma and Grandpa’s.  But many times we wound up weeping as we heard what God was doing.  Often we praised, sometimes with weeping then too.

            The years have slipped away.  There is no big gathering anymore.  But for just myself, I want to go back to remembering and thanking God for this past year.

                May your Christmas memories be sweet!

                                                                       

                                                                        ~~Faith Himes Lamb

Christmas Programs Past

 “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!” Luke 2:14

 It started right after Thanksgiving.

 "We have less than two months!  Y'all need to learn these parts."  The ladies of the church--those same ladies who organized the Easter egg hunt every spring and dinner-on-the-grounds every summer--got up a Christmas program every December. 

We gathered one evening after supper, blinking at one another in the familiar place so strangely cold on a Monday when the doors would normally be locked and the lights off. 

Our play wasn't just a children's pageant. Everyone got involved.  One year Ronnie McKinney was King Herod, lounging in an old bathrobe, eating grapes in a display of self-indulgence and cruelty as he ordered all babies in Bethlehem killed.   My dad and some other men were the three kings.  A small choir sang as these men---coal miners and mechanics in their modern lives-- walked reverently down the aisle.  With each verse of "We Three Kings," one of them placed a gift at the manger--gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Sometimes I got to be an angel and wear one of the white robes Aunt  Brookie made.  On the night of the play, it was pinned closed, and the tinsel halo kept in place with bobby pins.   All the tallest girls stood in back while we little ones were perched right out front, smiling at the baby.

The baby Jesus was always someone's favorite doll.  Once or twice a young mother in the church had a real baby of a suitable size, but most of the time it was a stiff plastic doll.  The young mother Mary picked it up and cradled it in her arms, stretching the very limits of credibility to make herself and us imagine the real baby in a manger long ago. 

 

--Sherry Poff

 

He Comes in Winter

He Comes In Winter

by

Susan Lenzkes

He could have come in

            springtime

                        when flowers force their way

            through sod and

                        bleating hope is born.

He could have been spring’s Lamb!

He could have come in

            summer

                        when sun streams down

            to warm that hope and

                        breezes cool the doubts.

Ho, summer’s Brightest Son!

He could have come in

            autumn

                        when hope flames forth

            with blazing joy and

                        crimson paints the earth.

Behold, He’s autumn’s Glory!

But He comes in

            winter

                        when hope lies frozen

            in the night and

                        blizzards rake our souls.

He comes, our Living Hope!

                                                ~~  Shared by Faith Himes Lamb      

THANKFUL FOR GRACE

Thanksgiving Day

by Lydia Maria Child/Adapted by Rebecca Phillips

Over the river and over the wood, To Niece and Nephews' house I go; The plane knows the way To carry my things Through the white and drifted snow. Over the river and over the wood, Oh, how the engines roar! It jostles the head, And puts to sleep my legs, As over the ground we go. Over the river and over the wood, Fly fast, my 747 plane! Soar over the ground, Like a hunting hound, For this is Thanksgiving-Day. Over the river and over the wood, And straight through the airport gate! We seem to go Extremely slow, It is so hard to wait! Over the river and over the wood; Now Niece and Nephews' caps I spy! Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin pie! I am so thankful for the opportunity to hug the necks and kiss the faces of my niece and nephews (my newest nephew for the first time) this Thanksgiving. Like the poet, I long for the times I can spend with my family and it seems the trip there is longer than the wait! Just thinking about the return trip causes me to choke back sobs and blink away tears, but then I think about the "family" I am coming back to. My tears dry and the sobs wane, because the family that I have away from home is precious. I am thankful for Grace! ~Rebecca Phillips

Thankful Days

Several of my facebook friends are posting things they’re thankful for every day this month. I enjoy reading their notes, and it’s made me think of how all the things we so often appreciate are really manifestations of God and his goodness.

Here’s what I mean:  As I think of specific things I’m grateful for, some of the things I notice are clean sheets, the sky, fall leaves, my wonderful husband, good food, brightly colored flowers, little birds flitting around the feeder, heat coming out of the vents in my floor. I know, and have often said to others, that “every good gift and every perfect gift is from above” (James 1:17). Recently, I am learning to see God in all of these things.  I don’t mean that I am becoming a pantheist, but that I see God’s hand and character in the things He made.

My flannel sheets (is anything better on a cold night?) remind me that God is loving and tender, the source of all comfort; fall leaves are a sign of his faithfulness in bringing the seasons around on schedule; my husband—and others who love me—show me that God is love; the coleus sitting in my window depicts His loveliness; the chickadees, cardinals, titmice, and all their friends are evidence of God’s creativity; good food shows his bounty and his goodness to provide not just our needs but also our delights. 

Much has been written about the names of God, and that is certainly a worthwhile study. However, one does not have to be a Hebrew scholar to see God. Psalm 19 reminds us that “the heavens declare the glory of God,” and goes on to assert that “there is no voice or language where their voice is not heard.”  In other words, people all over the world can see God’s glory. Mankind is completely without excuse when it comes to opportunities to know God.  I can see Him even on my facebook wall!

--Sherry Poff

VOTE! TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6

This morning, I watched as thirty-ish children sat around maps of the world and prayed for children in various countries. It dawned on me that our children are living in a country where meeting together to pray and to talk about Christ is legal, while many of the children for whom they prayed do not. What struck me further was that 30% of the children in the room were Chinese. What a different life they would be living if they were in China.

This coming weekend we will remember the persecuted church. We will pray and focus our thoughts to the many who sacrifice their lives to assemble with other believers for the sake of Christ. We will attempt to understand what it is they face in their countries, and we will strive to relate it to our own sufferings for the cause of Christ. 

I'm asking that we remember, pray, focus, understand and relate a few days early. The persecuted church is not an unrealistic outcome in our own country. The decisions, whether large or small, that are made by the men and women who are voted in on Tuesday will directly impact our lives and the lives of our children. 

^{Romans 1:18-25 (HCSB)}

¹⁸ For God’s wrath is revealed from heaven against all godlessness and unrighteousness of people who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth, ¹⁹ since what can be known^[o] about God is evident among them, because God has shown it to them. ²⁰ For His invisible attributes, that is, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen since the creation of the world, being understood through what He has made. As a result, people are without excuse. ²¹ For though they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God or show gratitude. Instead, their thinking became nonsense, and their senseless minds were darkened. ²² Claiming to be wise, they became fools ²³ and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man, birds, four-footed animals, and reptiles.

²⁴ Therefore God delivered them over in the cravings of their hearts to sexual impurity, so that their bodies were degraded among themselves. ²⁵ They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served something created instead of the Creator, who is praised forever. Amen.

God is ultimately in control, but that does not mean that we should not take a bold stand in our community and in our nation. It is urgent that we get on our faces before God to beg for His mercy on our country. If we are quiet, I believe we are in danger of bringing the persecuted church to the good ol' U.S.A.

Six of the world's most precious children call me Aunt Bec Bec. My vote matters. 

~Rebecca Phillips

Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!

Our kids have been getting sugared up over the last couple of weeks with the many Fall festivals and school parties. Wednesday's "Trunk or Treat" promises to top it all off with enough goodies to last months, and just in time to get them all sweetened up for the holiday season. This morning in Future Church was no different...to get a bag of Skittles tossed in your direction, you only had to conjure up a memory of what had been taught over the past seven weeks.

I really thought I'd give just a few pieces of candy out as we waited for "Big Church" to finish up, but boy was I wrong! Having spoiled their Sunday dinners by feeding them "Lighthouse Celebration" food, now I had managed to spoil dessert as well!

What a SWEET treat to know that all the time of preparation and studying that had been done for the book of Nehemiah did not go to waste. These children managed to come up with over 50 facts from the study in a few short minutes, and were willing to give more had the adults not come in running to save what was left of their child's nutrition for the day. 

While a few wrapped pieces of sugary goodness probably got them through for a few hours before they crashed or turned wild on their siblings, I know the sweetness of God's Word will nourish them much longer. If you get a sweet craving over the next few weeks, find one of our Lighthouse Kids and just ask them to tell you anything they remember about the book of Nehemiah. Your taste buds will never be the same!

Psalm 34:8 (HCSB) 

Taste and see that the Lord is good. 

How happy is the man who takes refuge in Him!

~Rebecca Phillips

PUZZLES

PUZZLES

            I love puzzles—word puzzles, brain teasers, jigsaw puzzles.  In fact, recently I have started doing a word puzzle or brain teaser right before I go to sleep.  After all, you have heard it too:  if you want to keep your intelligence and not succumb to age-related memory disorders, you have to keep your mind active!  So I am adding anything I think will help me keep my brain active.  I find that I become obsessive—I have to do one more puzzle, find one more word, answer one more question.

            I don’t love all puzzles though.  I don’t like the puzzling situations in life, the things I cannot explain.  I have trouble letting God be the one with the answers.  I ask “Why, God?  Why did you allow this to happen?  Why didn’t you stop it?  You could have, you know.”  Don’t tell me I shouldn’t ask why!  How am I going to learn the lessons God wants me to learn if I do not ask why?  Sometimes He shows me why.  Sometimes He lets me continue to question.

            I reread an entry in my journal this week from October 16, 2009.  It reads, “God, why?  I don’t understand.  I don’t understand.  I don’t understand.  Help me to accept and trust even when I don’t understand.”

            John and Rachel had just been told they would never have children of their own.  I wrote, “John has always loved children and they have always loved him.  When he was young and you asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, his answer was always, ‘A daddy!’  Rachel has always wanted children.  She helped raise her six younger siblings.  She wanted to be a stay-at-home mommy.  So what are you going to do with this, Lord?  I know you will do something, but couldn’t you let me in on it?  Adoption?  Working in an orphanage?  What are the possibilities?  Lord, help me to trust.”

            On September 5, 2011, I wrote, “I woke up at my usual time with one thought—Mikaela!  I even came up with a middle name, though I am sure that John and Rachel will not use it—Mikaela Joy, for the joy that a child is born!  Mikaela Joy will be born very soon.  She is due the end of September.  Her parents looked through profiles of couples on Bethany’s adoption website.  John and Rachel were the third couple they looked at and they looked no further.  Oh, Jesus, a baby!  A precious child on loan from You!”

            And Micaela Jocelyn (not Joy, but happy or joyful) was born September 19, 2011.  God let me see a partial answer to my question.

 But God does not give me answers about everything.  Why did God allow my marriage to fail?  I wanted so desperately to have a marriage that honored Him.  I did everything I could think of to fix it.  I begged God to heal my marriage.  He didn’t hear me; no, He didn’t tell me why it was happening and He didn’t keep my marriage from exploding.  I will forever carry my grief over that unanswered question. 

So how do I respond to the missing pieces of the puzzle?  Here is my answer.  Philippians 1:6 says, “Being confident of this very thing, that He who hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”  That is the answer.  I must trust God for the end.  There is no assurance that the pieces of the puzzle will fit, that we will see the completed puzzle.  Only God sees the final picture.

                                                            ~~ Faith Himes Lamb

           

Greetings from Pittsburgh!

Greetings from Pittsburgh!  No, I have not come to see the Steelers, the Pirates, or even the Penguins.  My lovely first child lives and works here.  It’s a beautiful city.  Add to that the fact that it’s the childhood home of one of my favorite authors, Annie Dillard, and you have a recipe for a good trip! 

All the way up from Chattanooga, I observed a quick-change of the seasons.  I’ve noticed this phenomenon before driving north.  Sometimes it’s spring all over again; this time it’s an earlier fall. I never ever get over the fall leaves.  The Psalmist reminds us that “the heavens declare the glory of God,” and that they do. But so does the earth sometimes. Canadian poet Bliss Carmen wrote, “The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry/ of bugles going by.”  I saw some of those scarlet maples on the drive up.  They are truly stunning! 

Yesterday we visited Clayton, the home of industrialist Henry Clay Frick.  (I first read about this home in Dillard’s book, so I was very excited to see it!) By hard work and some good connections, Frick made a lot of money that he used to furnish his impressive home in a grand fashion.  It was fun to see, but even with all his money and influence, Mr. Frick’s beautiful things are only copies of the beauty that is outside the doors of his house.

Today we walked in Frick Park and passed mounds and waves of purple asters, backed by yellow and orange leaves. It just doesn’t get much better. Truly God is a God of beauty and creativity.  Just imagine the magnificent mind and heart behind such loveliness.

I am so grateful for a God who gave the beauties of his creation to everyone, rich and poor alike.  Paul reminds Timothy of this concept in I Timothy 6:17: “Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not highminded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy.”

I hope you are finding time to enjoy the richness of this lovely season!

 --Sherry Poff

A Penny for Your Thoughts

If I had a penny for every thought I had today, I'd be rich!! I recently read that the human brain has an average of 70,000 thoughts in one day. Since there are 86,400 seconds in a 24-hour period, I tend to think I'm at the higher end of the range. In fact, I think I pretty much meet that quota in just a few minutes. At any given moment, I could be excited about my new furniture, anxious about a deadline, frustrated with a plan that went awry, curious about a friend's Facebook comment, nervous about a confrontation, heartbroken for a friend who has turned from the Lord, giddy that I'll have a new nephew in a month and another niece or nephew in two months, sad for a friend who's grieving loss, and wondering what I have to eat in my fridge. And those thoughts lead to the next few moments of planning how I'll arrange my furniture, wishing my deadline would go away, agonizing over how I should have done something differently, forming my response to a Facebook comment, practicing in my head what I'll say in a confrontational situation, praying for a friend, planning what I'll pack to see my family for the holidays, wondering if I'll ever have cousins to take to play with my niece and nephews, making a mental note to write a card and wondering if I have all the ingredients for a new recipe I saw on Pinterest. Whew...it's exhausting!
Thank goodness for Psalm 46:10 which says, "Be still, and know that I am God..." The HCSB version reads, "Stop your fighting-and know that I am God..." In the midst of the chaos in my head, He is God. There are many thoughts fighting for priority in my mind. God just wants me to be still and know that He is God!
So how do I do this? Well, I don't have a magic answer or a formula for being still, but as I turn off the TV, log off of Facebook, sit in the quietness of the room and place my thoughts on my God, my scattered thoughts are pulling together, my burden is lifting, my headache is subsiding, and my tired body is giving up the fight.

~Rebecca Phillips

A Grandbaby!

A Grandbaby!

Just one year ago today I took my mother, Mary Lloys Himes, to my son’s house because John and Rachel had a surprise to share with her.  The surprise was Mikaela Jocelyn Lamb. My first grandbaby had been born September 19.

            Mother sat in a rocking chair holding Mikaela and talking to her.  We videoed her, we took pictures, including the four generation picture of Mikaela, John, me, and Mom.

            I took Mom back to the assisted living and it was the very last time she left the building.  A little more than a week later, Mom left her home again, this time for a heavenly home.  But she got to see her great-granddaughter first.

            I was very close to my grandmother, Lloys Rice, but she has been gone for more than twenty years.  My children have no grandmother, as of a year ago.  But now I have a chance to be a grandmother, one like my grandmother, a major influence in my life.  I have the chance to  influence Mikaela.

            I was reading this morning from II Timothy 1 where Paul says to Timothy,

            “I constantly remember you in my prayers night and day, longing to see you, even as I recall your tears, so that I may be filled with joy.  For I am mindful of the sincere faith within you, which first dwelt in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice, and I am sure that it is in you as well.”

            What did I learn from my grandmother that I want to pass on to Mikaela?  The first thing is I knew Gram loved God supremely and she told me I needed to view every individual as someone Jesus loved.  And because Jesus loved them, I should love them.  I knew Gram loved the Bible.  She is the one who taught me how to use a Strong’s Concordance and find verses on a particular topic.  She was memorizing Scripture when she was in her nineties and taught me to value Scripture.

            I want to treat people the way Gram treated people and I want to teach Mikaela to do the same.  Gram listened to everyone with every fiber of her being.  She was riveted on my Stephen when he told her the story of “The Three Little Pigs,” just as she was riveted on me when I talked about the heartache of being rejected by the one I loved.  (She gave me a ring to replace the one I no longer had and told me he just didn’t know what he was missing!)  She was my biggest cheerleader, believing, and almost convincing me, that I could do anything.  I never felt I had to perform to earn her love or that if I failed in any way, she would reject me.  I learned unconditional love from her.

            I know that the years ahead will bring great joy, tears, and fears as I watch Mikaela grow.  Just after the verses I quoted come the words, “God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline.”  I am not sure why Paul put those words together in the same paragraph, but I can apply it to myself and my relationship with Mikaela and any future grandchildren.  I will be tempted to fear the heartaches and trials  Mikaela will encounter and even the choices she may make, but I will love her unconditionally, encourage her, and try to be an example for her the way my grandmother was for me.

                                                                        ~~Faith Himes Lamb

REGRET

This time of year was once my very favorite...the colors, the cooler weather, pumpkins and all the beauty that comes with autumn.  I loved it and still do to a point.    However, it is now also the time of year that my husband’s once strong body began to give way to the wretched cancer that had engulfed every moment of our lives for the past two years.  When the beautiful season of autumn should bring excitement for the expectation of Thanksgiving and Christmas, it now leaves my heart in fear of the approaching “anniversary” and what might wash over me from that great loss we have endured.  And in the midst of this survival mode and sadness, I long for what was good.  And I regret....

 

Regret is a terrible thing to endure and it needles into spaces of your mind that are worn out from grief.  I should have, I could have and why didn’t I?  I’m not talking about the skinny girl “I ate a doughnut and now I’m puffy” regret, (that’s not a regret for us healthier girls) or the “Why didn’t I pick the black Mercedes instead of the blue one” (not a particular worry for me either).  I’m talking about the life regrets...the regrets that tell you that you could have made a difference had you chosen well.

I don’t have too many from my life with Dan. He and I lived our lives with short accounts, but the little ones plague me...I should have read Scripture to him when he could no longer hold his Bible, or stayed more in his “world” at the end instead of trying to make people feel comfortable, or just laying next to him a little longer and listening to every precious heart beat...if only. 

But regret is useless.  It is simply another way to allow Satan to turn our focus onto our pitiful selves and away from the Lord who knows how human we are and that sometimes we do all that we know to do, and despite our human-ness still chooses to give us grace to learn and move on. I know that in my head but it’s difficult to accept.

That being said, I would like to reach the end of my life with no regret....better looking, but with no regret.  And from what I can figure, we do that by living every day as if it were our last, not just living but living intentionally, living for a future we will have after we draw our last breath, living to hear the words, “well done” from the Lord.  I want to hear that.  Who wouldn’t? 

So...... just in case this is my last day, custard filled or glazed?

Joy Dilts

II Timothy 4: 7 & 8: I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.

Surrounded by Love

I stood next to Renee Haston on Sunday morning, blending my voice with hers and a few hundred others as we sang this familiar song:

                Hold me close,
                Let your love surround me.
                Bring me near;
                Draw me to your side.

As we sang, I felt myself surrounded by love. I looked around at the dear faces of people I see week after week—many of whom I rarely talk to.  Yet I know if I am in trouble, these people will help me.  If I were in a foreign land—or stuck at the side of the road—it would be a joy and comfort to see Mike McDonald or Judi Summers, Becky Gorsline or Don Sandberg come around the corner.

It is so easy to take people for granted, but in some ways, it’s a compliment. It’s not a bad thing to be considered faithful. I want people to know that I will help them if I can. It would hurt my feelings more to think that someone wouldn’t ask for help because they’d think me too indifferent. To be always available is to be like God.

We had this verse on our bulletin Sunday: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness”  (Lamentations 3:22-23).  Because God is faithful to keep the big world turning and our puny hearts beating, we may forget what a wonder it all is. But when we have a scare—a health problem or a car problem—we know we can call on him, and he will help because he loves us.    

I want to be that dependable, you-can-count-on-me kind of person. And I am so glad to worship with a whole slew of folks who I believe are also loving and trustworthy enough to be there when it matters.

Let his Spirit lead us on---In the power of his love!

--Sherry Poff

God's Perfume

God’s Perfume

            Gram and Miss Fairy (practically an aunt, only better since she had no children of her own and lavished her love extravagantly on me—and on my other siblings and cousins, too, of course) both used Youth Dew perfume by Estee Lauder.  Gram always smelled so good to me and Miss Fairy used the same perfume.   I used to get hand me downs from Miss Fairy and there was always the scent of Youth Dew on the clothes I got from her.  My closet smelled like Miss Fairy.  After they were both gone on to Heaven, a whiff of Youth Dew brought them back.

            Because I loved the two of them and wanted to be like them, I tried to make that Youth Dew my signature scent, sure that more of them would rub off on me.  But, alas, it was too strong and did not represent who I was.  I switched to Beautiful by Estee Lauder, because it still hinted of them.  But even that did not suit me.  But I wanted some smell that reminded others of me, something that would instantly bring me to mind, so I kept looking.  Eventually I found Moonlight Path and made it my own.  I love it when someone says, “You smell so good.  What are you wearing?”

            I admit in my search I had some major goofs.  Perhaps the most dramatic one was the perfume I sprayed liberally, then desperately tried to wash off as I gagged and threw up!

            If you read the fashion expert’s advice about how to choose a “signature scent,” you will read that it must fit your personality.  There are little quizzes that claim to help you choose the right scent.  According to them, you must consider the food you love, the kind of music you listen to, the kind of movies you like, the places you like to go for vacation.  All of these answers will help you choose the fragrance that will still smell amazing hours after you have applied it.  Of course you want to choose something that others will not find overpowering or irritating.  You want just the right one.

            This week I read in II Corinthians 2 these verses: 

            “Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place.  For we are to God the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.  To the one we are the aroma of death leading to death, and to the other the aroma of life leading to life.”

            That concept of God’s perfume has for many years captured my imagination and my longings.  We are to be the fragrance, the perfume, of Christ, to both other Christians and nonbelievers. Our presence should remind others of Him.

 Do we evoke sweet smells and memories?  I mentioned Gram.  Gram drew others to her, in a cliché, like bees to honey.  I wanted desperately to be like her.  I knew that her love for God and for the Bible and for others was what made her unique.  I even took as a life verse the same one she used.  It was Psalm 16:11, “Thou wilt show me the path of life.  In thy presence is fullness of joy; At thy right hand are pleasures forevermore.”  I knew that her secret was found in Him.  She was God’s sweet perfume to those she met.

Unfortunately, I know that just as I sometimes have violently negative reactions to certain aromas, so sometimes we are not a sweet fragrance of Christ to others.  Sometimes we stink.  I spoke to a young man the other day who, because of the “fragrance” put off by his father, is nauseated by his father’s conception of God.  He isn’t sure what he believes now, but he knows he does not want to believe anything his father believed.  His father and others who claimed to be Christians have filled his nostrils with the smell of death.  I cry almost every time I think of him. 

So what kind of perfume am I to others?  Am I Christ’s perfume, wooing others to want to love Him and know Him as I do?  Or am I stench in their nostrils, a strong, irritating odor, pushing them away from the God I claim to represent?  Oh, God!  Help me to be a sweet perfume, drawing others to You.

                                                            ~Faith Himes Lamb

FRIENDSHIP

(You are about to read the 100th post on the Cup of Grace blog! Help us to celebrate by leaving a comment below or on Facebook!)

FRIENDSHIP

Every morning for 940 days in a row, I have awakened to a verse on my phone....EVERY MORNING! No, it's not some auto verse or Joel Osteen dial-a-prayer system, it's an actual verse sent from an actual person - one who has discovered early on the power of God's Word.

At the beginning of my "journey" with Dan through cancer, my sweet, faithful friend Amy began sending me verses during the night. With the Home-going of her father several years ago, she knew my pain and despair. And some mornings when I had no strength to face the day, I would pick up my phone to a verse only God could have given her. It is amazing how many times the verse she sends covers the particular concern that is in my heart. Dan loved that she did that for us. It strengthened us in a way that's unfamiliar to those who have not been through a difficult time.

God used this very special gift, not only in my life, but others as well. She began a "text" ministry to several other cancer patients and in searching for the verses to send, she told me how much reading through the Scripture had encouraged her.

Sometimes we think that we just don't have what it takes to encourage someone in their time of need...but that little verse, pushing its way from her finger to my heart was and is a true gift. And during the wee hours of each morning, a little bell on my phone reminds me that someone is still praying for me and sending me the amazing power of God's Word.

For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.....Hebrews 4:12

Joy Dilts

Working Together

Some days I think I must have the greatest job in the world.  (Other days I question my own sanity! A topic for another time.) Consider this:  I get to show up every morning and talk about a subject I totally believe in to people I completely adore.  In addition to that, I work at a school where I’m not only allowed but encouraged to emphasize the sovereignty of God and his personal involvement in our lives.  Also—(Can you believe there’s more?)—on a fairly regular basis I get to see or hear from some of the people I’ve taught and find out how God is working in their lives.  It’s such a joy.

One of my former students is currently teaching at a school in the Philippines; one is planning activities at a nursing home; one is teaching English at Grace; another is teaching math. Several have gotten married in the last couple of years and, with their spouses, are making good biblical choices for their families. I could go on, but you get the picture. I am so proud of them!

When Dr. Euler talked to us about intercession on Sunday morning, my mind was just flooded with the many people I am privileged to know and pray for. Think of all the missionaries we know and whose joys and sorrows we get to share. We hear it often, but it is worth thinking of again. The work of the ministry has many facets, but we have a single goal.  Paul reminded the Ephesian church that “there is one body and one spirit . . . one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” (chapter 4)  “Men work together,” says Robert Frost, “whether they work together or apart.”

We may not get to go to Japan with Sarah Reese or walk the path in Togo with Bea Ward, but we can share in their work through prayer.  Don’t you love it?! When we build into the lives of others, our own ministry expands exponentially.

One of my particular joys this week was reading Diana Patrick’s blog. Yes, I got to teach her in both fourth grade and twelfth grade. How amazing is that?  She spent a large part of her summer in Philadelphia and tells some wonderful stories of her experience. You can read it and cry for yourself.  http://dianacpatrick.blogspot.com/

Keep working, praying, and sharing.  God is in it.

--Sherry Poff

Pain Hurts

The woman who needs a friend,
The woman who misses family,
The woman who feels alone,
Pain hurts.
The woman who desires a new career,
The woman who is without a job,
The woman whose job is all she has time for,
Pain hurts.
The woman who longs for a husband,
the woman whose husband is distant,
the woman whose husband is gone.
Pain hurts.
The woman who longs to have children,
the woman who can't have children,
the woman who has lost children,
the woman whose children are lost,
Pain hurts.
The woman whose parent is dying,
The woman who is dying and leaving children,
The woman whose parents are gone and she needs them,
Pain hurts.
The woman who thinks no one cares,
the woman who bears so many others' burdens,
the woman who pushes others away,
the woman who is pushed away,
Pain hurts.
Your greatest joy is my deepest desire,
My biggest complaint is your greatest longing, 
Pain hurts.

These women go to my church. They are part of my family. They are women sinking in the despair of sin and can't break free from the strongholds in their lives. They are women longing for husbands and children. They are women going through divorce. They are women who have lost their husbands or children. They are women who have children that are hurting or making poor choices. They are women who are lonely and long for friendships. They are women who have lost dear friends. They are women whose loved ones have hurt them. And the list goes on. Oh, how we're hurting.

This summer at VBS, we studied the story of Lazarus' death. Mary and Martha didn't understand why Jesus waited to come, and it appeared that Jesus did not care. We see, however, that He cared so deeply that he dealt with Mary and Martha individually to meet their needs, and then He wept because of the sorrow that comes with death. Oh, how He cares.

As we hurt, may we wait upon the Lord who has promised an Isaac, and for Whom nothing is impossible! "Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, without wavering, for he who promised is faithful (Hebrews 10:23)!"

~Rebecca Phillips

Why I Love Working In The Nursery

One of the opportunities I cherish is the opportunity to invest in the lives of young children. The first time I saw the precious response of a toddler to a truth in God’s word, I was hooked! Countless times I have witnessed the comfort of a distressed young child by familiar songs of praise. I don’t take this opportunity lightly because I know God is entrusting me with something very dear to Him.

Matthew 19:13-15 says, “One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so He could lay His hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering Him. But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.”  And He placed His hands on their heads and blessed them before He left.”

Wow! I think God considers time spent with children the closest thing to heaven on earth!

Matthew 18:1-5&10 say, “About that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?” Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them.  Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.  So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven. And anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf is welcoming Me.  “Beware that you don’t look down on any of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels are always in the presence of my Heavenly Father.”

Double Wow!! If our Lord and Savior compared His Kingdom to a little child in this way, what an honor we have to serve Him by tenderly loving and caring for these sweet children while we are on earth.

What if you decided to accept the invitation to serve in our church nursery as a response to the example of Christ tenderly calling a child to Himself.  What if you welcomed and held an infant or toddler and looked into his or her eyes and realized you just welcomed the Lord Jesus Christ?

There is no question as to why I love serving in the nursery! Join me….won’t you?

Tina Laubscher

A "Tired" Lesson

Last month my sister in Kentucky let me know she had plans to visit our brother in West Virginia at the end of the month.  She wanted me to come too.  We try to get together for a few days every summer, and this was our chance!  So I started making plans to go.

Larry had a look at my tires and suggested I get some new ones on the front before my trip.  You know—safety and all that.  So I got new tires on Monday, June 25.  On Wednesday, June 27, I set out for West Virginia.  I have to tell you, it was a lovely trip.  Every time I head into the mountains, I am struck by their beauty.  What passes for mountains around here just doesn’t quite measure up to those vast expanses of green with no houses marring their tops.  I went through the big tunnels on I-77 and got onto the WV turnpike.  (There are a lot of jokes about the turnpike, but we’ll skip them for now.)   

I was sailing blithely along, enjoying the drive, when I heard an unusual noise at my window.  Since I didn’t see anything alarming, and the temperature gauge was ok, I kept moving.  When I got to my brother’s house, over an hour—and many miles—later, I was astonished to see a huge bubble on one of my front tires—one of my new front tires. 

 I found a local business that had the tire I needed, and the next day my brother took time off work to follow me in his car in case I had a blowout. On the way to meet him, I had to go over some winding, mountainous roads.  It could have been a scary drive---ok, I’ll be honest:  It was a scary drive. 

I have been doing the Wednesday evening Bible study called “When Life is Hard.”  We’ve been studying about trials and about looking for what God might be teaching us in difficult times.  I don’t know when I’ve been in a position to trust God for safety in a more real way than I was in that drive to get my tire replaced.  The awareness that the tire could blow at any moment was almost paralyzing.  I just kept remembering God’s goodness and faithfulness.  I’m not exaggerating when I tell you I prayed all the way. Even after I picked up my sister-in-law to ride along with me, I kept recounting how I was trusting God to get me there.

The men at the tire place were great! I love doing business in little towns.  They joked with me and pretended they were going to charge extra for the tire, but when one of them rolled the defective tire into the room where I was waiting, he was completely serious.  “You are very lucky you got here.”  “Don’t you think God was with her?” said my sister-in-law. 

This is not the first time I’ve had car troubles when traveling alone. I believe I have learned—again—that I can trust God in any situation. I do realize that he, not a new set of tires, is my source of safety.  I pray I don’t have another such lesson any time soon, but if I do, I have this experience to give me faith and courage.

--Sherry Poff

LET FREEDOM RING

I love Independence Day, flags, fireworks, parades, picnics, John Phillips Sousa marches, saying the pledges, and a "few good men" if you know what I mean! ;) 

Everything about our country stirs within me a sense of pride, nostalgia and usually tears. I'm thankful for the men who stood up for freedom in 1776 and signed their names to a document that would establish the foundation for what would one day become "...the land that I love." I get chills when I picture the scene as they rang what we know now as the "Liberty Bell" so that the people would know, "You are now free!" I'm thankful for the men and women who have fought to maintain that freedom every day since. 

As I think about the freedom that I enjoy as an American, I can't help but think about the freedom I have as a Christian. I am no longer slave to sin. Nothing is holding me back from the abundant life that Jesus came to give. He has given me His nature, His truth, His Holy Spirit. Wow! I want to sign my new name really big like John Hancock did (so the king could see it without spectacles) so that others can see without straining what Christ has done. I want others to know and experience a burden lifted and sin wiped clean. I want them to know that..."It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Gal. 5:1 I want to proclaim the truth so that others may be free. I want to "...let freedom ring..."

~Rebecca Phillips

WHAT WILL I BE DOING?

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WHAT WILL I BE DOING?

Wednesday, June 27, would have been Mary Lloys Himes’ birthday.  My mother would have been eighty-seven years old.  About this time last year I told my siblings that Mother was not doing well, that I did not think she would be with us by Christmas.  It was not that she had some terrible illness, but just that life was running out.  And, sure enough, on October 4, 2011, about 5:30 p.m., Mom slipped into the presence of her Lord.

           Over thirty years ago Mother’s older sister, Grace Rice MacMullen, was struggling with cancer throughout her whole body.  It was obvious she would not be with us long.  On August 18, 1981, the doctor told Grace that, at maximum, she had only six months to live.  That’s when she wrote a poem entitled “What Will I Be Doing December 18?” exactly six months later.

            If Mom could have known she had less than six months to live last June 27, I don't know what she would have written.  She certainly would not have written poetry; that was not her language.  But I know she would have shared the sentiments.  So, in honor of Mother's birthday, I want to share Grace's poem.

What Will I Be Doing December 18?

Well, that depends.
I'll be praising the Lord for His
glory and goodness--
by faith or by sight.
 If by faith,
as I've been doing,
My praise may be subdued,
alternating with a tear at times.
      If not by faith, ah then!
      With angels and trumpets and
      choirs and instruments
      Indescribable!
 I'll still be loving the Lord--
Maybe blindly, hesitantly,
But full-heartedly,
Trustingly.
     Or else--or else!  I'll be
     loving Him in a burst of Light,
     where shadows are washed away;
     Knowing as I am known--
     with the full-pouring effusion
     that can only at last express
     my stunted, limited, longing love--
     in purest, shimmering light
     and color and substance.
 I shall, that day, talk to God a bit,
As usual, about the things I'm thinking about,
about the people I love, about how the day is going,
about what I need and want.
     --Or yet, or yet__I shall that day
     talk to God!  Himself, in person!
     No dark glass between,
     nor childish me to speak of childish things.
 I shall on that day lie in bed,
Or move about with wheeled chair,
Finding my needs met minute-by-minute
By loving hands and smiling faces;
     Or, indeed, indeed!  I shall be
     Doing handsprings, cartwheels,
     Run a dozen miles!
     Move with God's own planned grace,
          As Eve did;
     Roll down a long grassy field, 
     Jump across a stream.
      I shall observe with undimmed eyes
     And hear with unstopped ears,
     Taste with untainted buds,
     And sniff the fragrances of another world.
 Where shall I be?  Here or there?
How little it matters!
 (Taken from the booklet Pain:  The Gift Nobody Wants by Grace Rice MacMullen, published by The Joyful Woman)

          So, Mom, what are you doing?  Are you jumping from garage roofs, as you loved to do in your youth?  Are you playing tennis with Grace?  Are you catching up with Daddy, catching up on the years when he could no longer communicate?  Are you cuddling those little ones who went home to heaven before you got a chance to mother them?  Are you rocking my little one?  Are you talking with the Savior?  A favorite song was always It Will Be Worth It All, worth it when we see Jesus.  Or maybe you are singing with a heavenly choir.  Whatever you’re doing, you have the best.

          I miss you, Mom.





     

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