Aurora Borealis

Use by permission from photographer, Timothy Sloma*

At breakfast last week our son announced, “I want to see the Northern Lights, so I prayed to God to bring them here.”

I smiled and replied, “I don’t about that. I think Northern Lights stay pretty much in the north.” I reminded him we had a glimpse of them when we lived in Central New York, but he didn't remember and wanted to see them NOW.

Min is multiply disabled. Everything he does (outside of his Aspergian niches) challenges him. Yet, when Min prays for something, God always seems to answer his requests. So much so, that we often ask Min to pray when we have a need. It’s like a gift God’s given him—a ministry.

So Min fully expected God would bring the Northern Lights to Kentucky. I, however, doubted and wondered if Min’s bubble would burst. Later I told my husband about the morning’s conversation.

He replied, “Oh well”…as if to say maybe God wouldn’t answer this one…this time.

Imagine our shock and awe when that afternoon’s weather reportor announced that, should the sky be clear, the Aurora Borealis would be visible in Kentucky. Hubby and I looked at each other, eyes popping and jaws dropped.

When Min came home, we told him God had heard his prayer and planned to send the Northern Lights our way.

Min smiled. “I knew God could do that, but why did He do it for me?”

I wondered too. “Maybe God wants you to know He loves you so much and wanted to do something special for you.”

“I think that means, if He cares about me this much,” Min pondered aloud, “He will help me when I grow up to live in an apartment and get a job and help me be able to do those things okay.”

Sadly, cloud-cover stopped us from seeing this sight, but the lights were there, non-the-less. That’s all that mattered to Min. That and knowing God loved him so much that He answered yet another of his prayers.

...With God all things are possible. 

Matthew 19:26b ESV

*Tim captured this sight on film in Alaska. This photo may not be copied without his permission.

C.S. Lewis and I

What do I have in common with late author C.S. Lewis? Love for and devotion to letter-writing. Since a young girl, I’ve written letters. I so loved epistle writing that, as punishment for bad behavior, my Mom took away postage stamp-using privileges.

Mr. Lewis believed personally answering his mail showed more than good manners. He saw this as part of his service to God, feeling each correspondent deserved a reply. Sometimes brother Warnie and wife Joy helped lighten his load. He exchanged letters with his pen pal for decades and also wrote to children.

I’ve been down-sizing and in doing so unearthed piles of letters from ages past~some from WWII soldiers replying to my mom via the Red Cross. I’ve a special appreciation for these, having 3 sons in the military and knowing what letters meant to them during their 7 deployments. My love of letter-writing became a mission those years.

I also found a wartime letter written by one of my Dad’s siblings, telling him each of his 5 sisters chose a day of the week to write him during his tour in Europe. How that must have encouraged their brother!

Letter-writing’s referred to as a “lost art.” Folks say they don’t have time or they’re not gifted with words. Did you know it takes no more than 5 minutes for most people to write a few sentences in a note, letting someone know they’re remembered, prayed for, cared about?

Despite this modern age of technology, I still like a hand-written letter. There’s nothing like holding one in my hands, reading it at will, and treasuring it for a lifetime if I wish.

May I challenge you to drop someone a note this week? You never know if the words you share may be the gift of hope needed that very day. You might just be sending someone a treasure.

Also during down-sizing, I found this aged poem...

To "Say it with flowers" is one way of expressing yourself to a friend,

But a personal message is often just what you would like to send.

A message of hope to the weary ... to the sick, a note of good cheer,

To the well, to the glad, to the merry, to all in need, far and near.

In fact, the Pease* Line will give you a word to each friend, old or new,

And these words of good cheer which you send all the year like an echo will come back to you.

(L.F.P., Author)

*as written in the poem

Age & Worth

Even to your old age and gray hairs I AM He, I AM He Who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you. Isaiah 46:4 NIV

This morning my son and I read about John, beloved disciple, sentenced to a lonely island by the Roman government. His crime? Preaching about Jesus. John followed his Savior before the cross, during, and after … and here he is an elderly man. Alone. Exiled. Seems his ministry’s done

Not so. God’s Holy Spirit spoke to John and anointed him to pen the Bible book of Revelation while in this desolate place. God showed John the end times, the glory of Heaven, and~oh~so much more.

I enjoy visiting old folks. Once I sat with an elderly saint who cried, “Why am I still here?” I told her many depended on her hours of faithful prayer and assured that she’d go to Heaven when God’s purpose for her was completed. She sighed, nodded, and laid her head on my chest. I stoked her thinning gray hair as we sang hymns together. Two months later God took her Home.

Winter months drag for shut-ins. Many tend to fall into depression, especially where the climate isn’t kind. Some feel neglected due to the fast-paced, busy lives of those who love them but can’t be there.

There’s worth in age. These dear ones are monuments to God’s faithfulness. Through their stories and testimonies we’re assured God’s trustworthy and true. Elderly believers are prayer warriors, “holding up our arms” during battle so we don’t faint. What would we do without these who spend long hours petitioning the Father on our behalf?

Our elderly are treasures. Each one. Enjoy these saints who near and long for Home. You will find, as you encourage, you’ll be blessed in return. Yet realize not all are ready for Heaven and may not have much time. They, too, need to know the Savior. Perhaps you can be used of God to show them the way.

Become A Bird-Brain

Photo by Janice Fowler Housley

The start of a new year comes with some anticipation of newness, starting over, trying something for the first time. But this year we may face hardships like never before.

A doomsday-ist. Great. Just what you needed. Right? As much as I’d love to tell you everything will be dandy, our economical, political, and spiritual conditions cause concern…anxiety.

What should you do? Become a bird-brain! The fowl of the air go about their day doing what they do best—gathering food and keeping their place in good repair. No worries. Their Creator cares.

Should you reach times seeming utterly hopeless in this coming year, trust God. Focus on His Character (realized by reading His Word). He values you. After all, He proved that by dying for you.

Look at the birds of the air…your heavenly Father feeds them.

Are you not of more value than they?

And which of you by being anxious can add...to his span of life?

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow

for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.

…but seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness…

from Matthew 6:26-34 ESV

This practicing bird-brain hopes you have a blessed 2012 as you try God and see Him provide.

"God...wills that we be as free as birds to soar and sing our maker's praise without anxiety."

A.W. Tozer

Take That Gift Back!

Michelangelo's Piata

Good thing I wasn’t the mother of Jesus! Had a wise man given my toddler myrrh, I might have shoved it into the giver’s hand, and shouted “Take that gift back!” Myrrh? Burial spice? An appropriate baby gift? 

I’ve thought a lot about Mary’s pondering…so much so that I asked hubby to look up “ponder” in the original language and context of that Scripture. One definition read “conflict.” Indeed Mary must have wrestled, knowing her newborn came into the world to die. Of course, all of us eventually die, but how many mothers’ thoughts go there while beholding their newborn?

Over the years I’ve known three women who received dooming news before their babies’ births. They still looked forward to holding their little ones but shed many tears. They cradled with hearts humming lullabies in minor keys. They treasured each moment with a mourning love. Sobering.

Mary likely felt the way those moms did. No, she didn’t return the myrrh. She accepted it, knowing her son would need it. What must have been awful for her and Jesus? Thirty-three years later beholding each other from different vantage points of that cross...the moment they both dreaded yet accepted, knowing the will of The Father.

Good thing Mary accepted that gift, and grateful The Son Of God did too. He rose again to give us all another gift~eternal life. I chose that gift when I asked Jesus into my life, and there's no taking that back. I'm His child for keeps. Hallelujah!

Christmas & Kinfolk

Family~kin or kinfolk we call them here in Kentucky. Although Jersey-born, I love that term so much more than relatives or relations.

As we celebrate the birth of The Son of God, I'm reminded of the bond I share with Him through adoption~when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Kinsman Redeemer. If you've received Him as your Savior, you're also adopted...and we're kin!

We used to sing There's a Song in the Air, a carol nearly lost today. Those lyrics penned by Josiah G. Holland~one of my kin from eons ago~I now share with you. Blessed Christmas!

There’s a song in the air! There’s a star in the sky!
There’s a mother’s deep prayer and a baby’s low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!
               There’s a tumult of joy o’er the wonderful birth,
               For the virgin’s sweet Boy is the Lord of the earth.
               Ay! the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
               For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!
                              In the light of that star lie the ages impearled;
                              And that song from afar has swept over the world.
                              Every hearth is aflame, and the beautiful sing
                              In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King!
                                             We rejoice in the light, and we echo the song
                                             That comes down through the night from the heavenly throng.
                                             Ay! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring,
                                            And we greet in His cradle our Savior and King!

Facing The Holidays~Part Two

Continued from last week's post...

Each reader has his own story to tell. For some this is your first holiday season since being falsely accused, and you’re probably in the same frame of mind as were we. Life remains forever altered, but it does go on. We all grieve. We all must, yet each handles grief in his own way and time. If you need to shed tears, do. We did, and in doing so gave our boys the liberty to hurt and cry as well. What a release! What a gift!

I believe God grieved that very first Christmas two millenniums ago. He knew His Son faced rejection, ridicule, false accusations, and death. For the first time I empathized with Jesus and understood how greatly He felt our pain. 

If you’re of the Jewish faith, your celebration centers on a miracle as well. The Maccabees fought against a wicked tyrannical king. They won, reclaiming Jerusalem. The Temple needed cleansing. There they witnessed the miracle of one day’s oil supply lasting eight. Hanukkah—a wonderful reminder of hope amongst impossible hardships!

Miracles exist, bringing with them the promise of hope and peace. Looking toward your holiday may bring emotions you never associated with it before. That’s okay. Remember—the ones who lived through those holy days went through the same feelings you have now. They grieved yet survived to tell their stories. So have many others! So will you!

(originally published November 1999)