Sunrise

 

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

5:30 am. 

Still dark, sky illuminated by stars, sweet spring perfume hanging in the warm air. 

Hundreds of birds singing, anticipating a sunrise yet to come - a great example of faith. 

Believing in the miracle while standing in the dark.

Dark Night

Image by Erik Karits from Pixabay 

Since publishing my devotional, I’ve experienced a darkness I can’t explain. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t form words for prayer. Dark thoughts, so unlike me, spiraled through my mind.

Exhaustion finally allowed me to sleep, but it wasn’t restful, and it was peppered with horrible dreams.

It was Sunday. I wanted to go to church, but getting ready seemed an overwhelming chore. After several minutes of oscillating back and forth, I dragged myself into the shower and dressed. Still fighting the urge to climb back under the covers, I drove the twenty miles to church on autopilot. The moment I entered the church, I knew I’d made the right decision.

Through the worship, my emotions lightened some, but the dark persisted, refusing to release me. I knew what the next step had to be. I needed additional prayer.

After the service, I approached the couple sitting in front of me and asked if they would keep me in their prayers. They did more than that. They prayed with me right then. The darkness grayed.

As I exited the sanctuary, my pastor asked me how I was. Something showed on my face because he followed that up with another question. “Is there something I can pray with you about?”

I told him, “Yes, I feel a darkness I can’t explain.”

He prayed with me, and the last vestiges of darkness lifted. I left the church whole, my emotions lighter, happier.

The darkness has not returned.  

I’m not sure why the publication of this book put me under such a vicious attack, except that God may use it to draw more souls to Him. If that’s true, I’ll endure many dark nights. However, I don’t believe that’s God’s intention, or He would not have delivered me through the companionship and prayers of fellow believers.

“Again, I say to you, that if two of you shall consent upon earth, concerning anything whatsoever they shall ask, it shall be done to them by my Father who is in heaven. For where there are two or three gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:18-20.

Amen. 

Light and Shadow

Original Photo by author 

As an artist, I've always been fascinated by the play of light against shadow, especially in our little canyon. The light changes constantly, the most pronounced at sunset. Notice how the shadows make the light brighter. A bit like life, isn’t it? 

This last week and a half have been rough. My doctor said it would take two weeks for the antibiotic to leave my system, even with the help of the steroids and other medication, but I didn’t think I’d be ill for so long and wondered if I’d ever be well. 

As I have posted in the past, after my third husband passed away from brain cancer, my sister sent me a book of Maxwell Parish prints coupled with the words to the song, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. The beautiful pictures and words brought me a lot of comfort. God used this reference many times to offer me encouragement during difficult times. Either the song, or a literal rainbow, appeared during the darkest moments, reminding me of Jesus’ promise to never leave or abandon us. There is always light after the darkness. 

The first time this manifested, I was recovering from blood poisoning and waiting to hear whether the cause was an ongoing, permanent condition, or a one time incident. To break up the tension, my husband put in the movie, Meet Joe Black. The song Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwoʻole plays during the credits. If you know the song, it intersperses the songs Somewhere Over the Rainbow and What a Wonderful World. My husband and I consider the latter our song, so having them sung together at that point in time… I knew my doctor would declare me healthy during my morning appointment. She did.   

A few nights ago, my husband chose the movie, Meet Joe Black, as our evening entertainment. I thought of the song, but that wasn’t the only message God sent. As the movie played, I noted something I had missed the other times we watched it. A single calla lily sat in a vase behind Joe Black, a.k.a. Death. Coincidence? 

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they labor not, neither do they spin. But I say to you, not even Solomon in all his glory was clothed like one of these. Now if God clothe in this manner the grass that is today in the field, and tomorrow is cast into the oven; how much more you, O ye of little faith?” Luke 12:27-28. 

I had let ill health overshadow my faith. 

Not surprising, the next morning I turned a corner. The weakness and dizziness subsided. The nausea lessened and the headache and severe fatigue faded. While I write this, I am symptom free. 

Light and shadow. Joy and sorrow. Illness and health. Faith and doubt. 

Thank you, Lord, for sending beautiful images like the one above and other symbols of your promises, faithfulness, and love. Amen.

  🌈 Israel Kamakawiwo'ole ➖ 'Over The Rainbow' & 'What A Wonderful World' Medley ➖ 1993 🌈

 

 

The Friendship Lamp

 

Photo by Jill Wellington@Pixabay

I read about an interesting device, the Friendship Lamp. These have evidently been out a while, but I just discovered them through a meditation in Our Daily Bread.

(See video: Friendship Lamps)

On initial impulse, I thought this was a great idea. I’d love for each of my kids to have one. I could let them know, unobtrusively, every time I thought of them. But when I researched the lamps, I found out they are very expensive. Most pairs retail for $90 to $200. That’s more than I can spend when a phone call or a text will work just as well.  

However, I admit the visual of the light is appealing, like leaving the light on for someone to come home or a candle in the window. Who doesn’t light up when a friend calls, texts, or stops by for a visit?

This reminded me of a coffee mug a friend gave me years ago. This letter is written across the front.

I am writing to say how much I care for you. I want you to know me better. When you woke this morning, I exploded a brilliant sunrise through your window, hoping to get your attention. But you didn’t even notice. Later, you were walking with friends, I bathed you in warm sunshine and perfumed the air with flowers. Still, you didn’t notice me. So, I shouted to you in a thunderstorm, and painted a beautiful rainbow. You didn’t even look! Tonight, I spilled moonlight on your face and sent a cool breeze to refresh you. As you slept, I watched over you and shared your thoughts, but you were unaware of my presence. I hope you will talk to me soon. When you’re ready, I will be near. I love you very much.

Your Friend,

Jesus

I wonder if after a while, the lamps would be just as unnoticeable. Perhaps the best light is the light inside of us, our faith, which Jesus told us not to hide, but to place in a window for all to see. That light is our acts of kindness and compassion.

Dear Lord, thank you for being my friend. In return, mold my thoughts, my actions, and my words to reflect You. Amen.

 

Light in the Darkness

I’ve been reflecting on the recent tragedies, seeking a way to cope with the sense of hopelessness and despair these horrific events seem to nurture.

A meme a dear soul posted on Facebook had one answer. Mr. Rodgers said, “Look for the helpers.” There are always men and women who risk everything to help others whether it is horrific fires like those in California, shootings or floods.

I want to be a helper rather than sitting back, crying and wringing my hands, or worse criticizing. I may never race through flames, face a crazed gunman, or slog through flood waters to save a life, but I can refuse to give into frustrations and irritations. I can be polite, smile, and carry a pleasant attitude whether I am at the grocery store, driving or doing my civic duty.

These thoughts reminded me of the Prayer of St. Francis. I memorized it years ago but I forget to pray it, so I created a prayer card which I printed out and placed with my devotions, a reminder of how I can be a helper, every day, wherever I am.

May we be thankful for the helpers God sends to those in need.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. May your day be filled with family, joy and many blessings.

(You are welcome to save, print, and share.)

A Pause

Jesus often admonished His disciples for their lack of faith after witnessing so many miracles.  “How do you not yet understand about the lilies of the field, or feeding the five thousand with a few fish and loaves of bread?”

How do we not understand? Because we are weak and frail. The devil uses our weaknesses, stirring up doubts, telling us we are unworthy of God’s good gifts.  We are unworthy, but God still grants them because of His infinite love.  

Streams in the Desert: “Difficulties are sent to reveal what God can do in answer to faith that prays and works.”

Sometimes God sends difficulties not only to strengthen our faith, but also to encourage us to spend more time with Him in prayer for ourselves and for others. Prayer, with God’s intervention, can accomplish more than years of physical struggle. He asks us to pause in our headlong rush to accomplish to sit at His feet and learn.

“Your faith can level forests.” Streams in the Desert.

My upcoming surgery and recuperation period is an opportunity to deepen my prayer life and open myself to more meditation. Who knows what forests He and I can level?

“According to the multitude of my sorrows in my heart, thy comforts have given joy to my soul.” Psalm 94:19.

One thing I have learned, God’s light of hope, comfort, love, and compassion shines brightest in the dark places of our lives.  

Lighting Our Lamps

Now that the days are shorter, I take Cooper, our little Brittany, outside in the dark, morning and evening. My flashlight is a necessity. So, it was appropriate that my Gospel reading for today told the story of the virgins and their lamps waiting for the bridegroom.

In my devotional, Living Faith, author Patricia Livingston suggested a new twist. She used the imagery of faith. We can run out of oil, wearied by too much responsibility and not enough quiet time. Rather than being selfish, it replenishes, allowing our light to burn brighter.

Streams in the Desert, also had an excellent example. Our spiritual life is like a garden. The more we tend it, the more beautiful it becomes. Perhaps our neighbor will decide to improve his own. Frantic busyness doesn’t accomplish anything other than to prevent refilling our spirits.

As I walked out in the country dark this morning, the stars were a brilliant canopy of light. I even saw a meteor. Later, while back inside my warm house, dawn shimmered along the eastern mountains, first in hues of rose, then gold. The wind stilled, and so did my racing thoughts.

God doesn’t need my constant chatter. Sometimes, a quiet silence offers as much praise as a litany of prayers. Done often enough, it will take root and grow, keeping my lamp lit regardless of how long the bridegroom tarries.

Where There Is Hatred...

Lately it seems there is a lot of hatred floating around from both political parties, from anti-religious groups, and groups claiming to be religious. During these hateful exchanges, they forget every life is precious, every life deserves a chance, every life deserves respect. The words to this famous prayer set a good example of behavior, whether you profess faith in God or not. Do not return hate with more hate. It has to stop somewhere.

These words came to my mind during my devotions this morning in response to something that has been heavy on my heart recently. I don't always behave this way, but I plan to pray this prayer every morning, noon, and night. Hopefully, the words will become ingrained enough in my heart and mind to become action, not just words. As the old song says, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” And I challenge you to do the same.

God First, Before Everything?

Original photo by Cecilia Marie Pulliam

We’ve all read the scriptures how the disciples literally dropped everything and followed Jesus when he called them. For a moment, let’s put ourselves in that picture. What would it really entail?

I imagine Jesus knocking on my door, right now. I am sitting on the couch next to my husband with my computer and morning coffee. I’m in my robe. My hair is a mess. I haven’t had any breakfast. Do I answer the door?

If I go that far, and find Jesus standing there, beckoning me, could I walk out without turning back? Could I leave my husband without telling him where I am going? If I hesitate, am I putting other things before God?

 I really have to think that one over. Leaving without saying a word to my husband seems cruel. I can’t imagine God wanting me to hurt anyone, but he does want me to put him first — over everything, even my husband.

So, how does that go along with loving your neighbor as yourself?

The Unexpected Void of Retirement

Photo courtesy of  Sira Anamwong at FreeDigitalPhotos.net      

It began with a friend posting a picture of a calla lily on Facebook. Then, another friend posted a picture of a national park an hour’s drive from my hometown with two rainbows arched across the stormy sky.

It continued with a silly game that pulled random scripture verses which supposedly match your profile. My verse was Psalm 91: 14: “Because he hoped in me I will deliver him: I will protect him because he hath known my name.”

Then the next morning Psalm 27 was listed in my devotions. 

So, what exactly does all this mean?

Rejoice - Always?

Image courtesy of Sira Anamwong at FreeDigitalPhotos.net 

“Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!”

Habakkuk 3:17–18

Philippians 4:4: "Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!"

Right. How do you rejoice during crisis or disaster? It doesn't sound ethical or proper to rejoice during tribulations, especially after the loss of a loved one. Rejoice? I can’t imagine it.

Solomon said, "For the happy heart, life is a continual feast" (Proverbs 15:15, NLT). 

Okay, I can see how a happy heart would see a joyful feast, when there is a reason to be happy, but the above mentioned circumstances seem a far cry from any happy feelings.

Why Is It Sometimes So Dark?

There have been times when I have been plunged into a soul piercing darkness. Every miss-deed, every wrongly spoken word, every good deed left undone, every bad choice, crushed me beneath a heavy weight of conviction.  This darkness of the soul isn't rare, as many of you may attest to, and in fact, I have read of numerous holy men and women who have endured this agony, most recently Mother Teresa. However, knowing it isn't unusual doesn't lessen the pain.

I wonder if this is what Jesus felt on the cross? Except His experience was to the tenth power of my pitiful emotions. This isolation from the world, weighed down with the conviction of so much wrong doing is almost unbearable, and yet, this brief glimpse of despair gives me some insight to those who take extreme measures to stop the pain by taking their own life. Their pain must indeed be horrific. Knowing this much pain without the saving grace of faith is indeed dark despair from which there would be no rescue. If only they knew to reach out, to ask for help with the faith to believe it would be given. 

I am blessed with faith, and faith tells me to hang on because after the night comes the dawn. This heavy burden will lift and I will once again dance in the sunlight, a joyful daughter of a compassionate God, and reason tells me this darkness has been prepped and stoked by fatigue from the rigors of moving, new training at the job, uncertainty regarding my financial future, and unsettling world events. These factors pounced the moment I was vulnerable, when I was too weak to offer a suitable defense. I cannot expel them on my own. I do not need to. I do not need to rely on my strength. I have a heavenly Father with more than enough strength and power to dispel the darkness.

Yet, this darkness does have a purpose, as my reading in Streams in the Desert points out. In order to be a Comforter, you must first endure great sorrow. "You will be wounded so that in the binding up of your wounds by the Great Physician, you may learn how to render first aid to the wounded everywhere." Without experiencing this darkness, I would never know how to offer the Light to others. After all, Jesus suffered first, and through His suffering He fully understands our suffering, as both man and God, and so, I accept my lesson, and I will wait patiently for my healing, which will come.

This morning, Good Morning, Lord, by Joseph T. Sullivan has this:

Good Morning, Lord.

Help me not to look back at my sins-

  you know how many they are!

I know that once I recognize the error,

  correct it and make amends,

  I'm supposed to move on,

  toward better and greater things.

Brooding, feeling sorry for myself, scolding myself

  are unproductive and silly.

They fail to recognize your merciful forgiveness,

  your unmistakable love for me.

Hey! What mistakes? This is a brand new day.

I'm on your side, Lord,

  and you're on mine. Amen.

 

The blackness has lifted. The dawn exploding just beyond the window in our new home is as brilliant as a sunset. Hundreds of ducks and geese are flying overhead, silhouettes against a blue and gold sky. This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24.  Amen!