My Sanctuary

This has been a challenging week. One of storms and seas crashing down on me, and yet feeling as though the Lord is, in spite of it all holding me up. I am not referring to any circumstances of my own, but to two precious members of the body of Christ. To anyone, therefore, who is part of the body, one and all are affected. To hear of divorce in the body of Christ shakes us all.

I used to think because God hates it, it should never be the choice of a Christian. I don't think that way anymore. I don't feel a need to explain why. For one thing, I don't think I could explain it if I wanted to at this point. I have a lot of questions that are not answered yet, and for the first time in my life, I am realizing when I have questions, that I have total liberty to wait on God for answers. I, in other words, no longer let Satan push me around and make me feel as though I'm sinning just because I don't have everything figured out.

Aside from my own personal questions, When I hear of divorce in the body of Christ among my very own friends, I think it is appropriate to cry and mourn and weep. I think of the story of the rich young ruler. Jesus, basically said that it is impossible for people such as he to be saved. The disciples threw up their hands and cried out, "Then who can be saved?!". I felt like those disciples this week. If these, my friends fall, then who can be saved? Jesus' reply for the rich man is the same for me, what is impossible for men is possible with God. So, while it is appropriate to mourn, it is also appropiate to let God be the lifter of our heads. "Divorce" is only a word on a paper. God is bigger and mightier. As for the question of who can be saved? Those who are saved are those who are close to the ground and don't have far to fall. They do stumble and fall like a toddler, but they are not hurled headlong because they have made Jesus closer than a brother, and aloud Him to hold their hand (ps. 37:23).

The words of this song by Leland, to me, discribes the kind of relationship these friends of Jesus have . . .

All these places I have been
All these faces I have seen
Too much, too much
All these bricks and all these stones
Have all been cast the've all been thrown
Too hard, too hard

Find me in the background looking down
You'll never see my face
I'm looking down

Chorus:
I need a place a sanctuary a refuge for my ordinary
Finally familiar peaceful home
Untroubled safe from all this madness
Refuge for my hope and sadness
Possible to find myself alone
At home

All these cliffs and all these heights
They've just been too high to climb
Too high, too high
All these waves and all these seas
Have all been crashing down on me
Too much, too much

I've found my home again
I finally find myself in You
I finally find myself in you
I feel safe again
You're the one I'm running to
You're the one I'm running to


Thank you, Jesus, for giving me a place to grieve, and above all for protecting my hope for my friends and for myself. Praise be to God, this earth is not my home, my home and my hope is in Christ!

Rejoicing in the Mundane

Cass and I have spent a few afternoons putting up tomatoes in this past week. Being busy in the kitchen we both admit causes a bond between us that is special. I like decoring, and she likes pealing the tomatoes after they have gone through the blanching process. She likes squishing her fingers through the tomatoes as she transfers them to the blender. I guess it's kind of like the experience you get when you squish your toes in the mud. Whatever!

Speaking of mud. That is something we are not running short of around here. Portions of our driveway are down at the other end of our field. Kind of makes us glad our house sits up on piers.

Mattie is having a group of girls over today for a kind of girl's club. Cass is leading them with an encouragement time in the Word. I'm going to do some homemaking things with them. We plan to do this for the month of July on Tuesdays. It ought to be interesting teaching five 11 year olds how to bake bread and some basic skills on a sewing machine. I'll let you know if I've bitten off more than I can chew.

Ethan is coming out with some funny things these days. While in the car the other day, I heard him singing to himself. "I love you Jesus. I'm sorry you had to die. It wasn't my fault". Eventually, we have some explaining to do, but at least he's on the right track.

I have to tell you about the angel I met last week at the nursing home. She is a black woman, not very old, all curled up in a specially made chair. She is totally helpless to do anything for herself. I don't think she can even say words, but only makes noises. I have passed by her many times on my visits to Mamie. This time the Spirit told me to acknowledge her. I reached down and took her hand. I got the most beautiful smile in return. She took my hand with a firm grasp and began kissing and kissing it. She has a beautiful countenance, and seems to be waiting there to see who she can share it with. I went away wondering who was ministered to.

Things like tomatoes, girl's clubs, the comments of a four year old, and angels unawares. How often I let the devil feed me the lie that my life is nothing extraordinary!