The Welcome Home ♥ » Family

Opportunities Come and Go

pamela ♥ — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 02:26:03 +0000

I mull over this phrase from time to time as I consider the many opportunities I’ve had, the many opportunities I’ve botched and the many opportunities I’ve either missed or passed up through the years. The missed and passed up opportunities have probably hounded me as much or more than the opportunities I’ve botched. Usually, but not always, I’ve had or take a second opportunity to repair or at least attempt to make up for that botched opportunity and usually (but not always) things have turned out okay. But still, it’s those occasions I missed or passed up — those opportunities are the ones I most regret. It’s probably bcz I’ll never know what could have come out of what should have been. But then… even as I share this I know this flies in the face of my strongly held belief that God is, indeed, sovereign. It is in these times I could be labeled a Calarminian. :-S I know God is sovereign and what will be will be — it’s just that I can’t ever seem to be fully reconciled to that fact in the face of missed or ~~rejected~~ passed up opportunities.

For example: I may botch up talking with someone about the Lord — I may get all intense or neglect to be succinct or whatever and come away feeling like I really messed up that opportunity to share the gospel, to draw someone into conversation and prayerfully into the kingdom. But then I must consider that faith is of the Lord, and that person’s redemption is of the Lord — though He does use cracked pots to pour out His message of salvation and redemption.

My missed opportunities or passed up opportunities have been those times, though I may not have recognized it at the time, when I clearly had the grace of God to do this or that thing and I frittered away the time or I didn’t make a call or I made the wrong call or I thought my way of handling a situation would suffice or whatever… and an opportunity to do good, to help, to encourage, to correct, to confess an offense or whatever was missed or lost.

I can’t go back and recreate those opportunities — but I can seek to correct losses and offenses and as I do so, I must leave the results to the Lord and then I can use those missed or passed up opportunities to prompt me the next time such an opportunity arises, presents itself or even seems to be present. God is mercifully helping me through the years in His loving kindness, all my missteps, my failings, miscommunications, misunderstandings, resentment, fears, regrets, losses, etc., etc., to watch — really watch — for opportunities and seek to not miss them. All these problems, especially in the last couple of years, have surely taught me that opportunities come and go — good ones and difficult ones, and it’s really imperative to daily be in the Word, to daily be in prayer, to keep short accounts and, perhaps above all, to seek God’s will and direction for each of the opportunities He brings my way.

This phrase continually comes to mind: “God does not call the equipped, He equips the called.” So, that being understood, as responsibilities go, I know that mine is to watch and receive, His is to present and provide, mine is to obey, His is to guide, mine is to be willing , His is to be filling, mine is to be poured out, His is to be glorified.

Opportunities come and go… O, that I would be found faithful in them.

Daffodils… an encouraging story

pamela ♥ — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 19:50:00 +0000

A Story to bless you today:

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.” I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead “I will come next Tuesday”, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

“Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!”

My daughter smiled calmly and said, “We drive in this all the time, Mother.” “Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her.

“But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,” Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this.”

“Carolyn,” I said sternly, “please turn around.” “It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.”

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, “Daffodil Garden.” We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

“Who did this?” I asked Carolyn. “Just one woman,” Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. “Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking”, was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was, “One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.”

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time–often just one baby-step at time–and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world …

“It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow,” she said.

She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask,
“How can I put this to use today?”

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting…..

Until your car or home is paid off

Until you get a new car or home

Until your kids leave the house

Until you go back to school

Until you finish school

Until you clean the house

Until you organize the garage

Until you clean off your desk

Until you lose 10 lbs.

Until you gain 10 lbs.

Until you get married

Until you get a divorce

Until you have kids

Until the kids go to school

Until you retire

Until summer

Until spring

Until winter

Until fall

Until you die…

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

So work like you don’t need money.

Love like you’ve never been hurt, and

Dance like no one’s watching.

Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

Don’t be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

another birthday…

pamela ♥ — Thu, 15 Mar 2012 04:23:06 +0000

Another birthday for one of our children. Another day to reflect on the many blessings, provisions and calling of the Lord on this son’s life — the golden child, the brothers and sisters call him. We all have a smile when someone says this or refers to him in this manner. They all know they are — each one to me — a golden child, though they’d insist he is the golden child. ~smile~

So another year, another birthday… another celebration that doesn’t look like one here tonight. We’ll make up for it when he returns from Africa in a couple of months — but for now, we have had a day of reflection, stories and melancholy, misty eyes. Well, maybe that was just me with the misty eyes most all day today. It’s not that I want him to stay around here — I really don’t — but he’s such a delightful person… just missing him especially much today as I’ve been reflecting on the many things that have been particular to him. I think back on his love for anything-pooh-bear to his love for a favourite blanket and the shiny blond hair of his younger years. In those days his hair was cut much longer than he’d ever wear it today — in a “bowl cut” — the same style of haircut I gave to each of the other boys before and after him in their younger years. Two brothers older and four younger than him. Funny to hear them talk now of how they all loved their hair that way — what they don’t know is that it was the only cut for young boys I knew how to do very well. I glanced at a pooh bear today… stopping for a moment to remember… and smiled.

One of the wonderful advantages of the passage of time is that we accumulate many stories and happy memories — these both bless us and bring us tears when a day such as this comes along. And while we all miss him for as many different reasons as there’ve been minutes in this day, we’re blessed by the knowledge that he’s right where he ought to be. And somehow, that makes everything perfect. Just as a cake & ice cream would be the perfect thing to serve were he to be here at home tonight.

I’ve been reflecting on God’s tender preparations for me for these years — and in different ways, He’s actually prepared all of us for these days. Showing Himself strong on our behalf, He’s orchestrated quite a mixture of joys and sorrows — gains and losses — working everything together for our good and His glory. I see this more and more clearly as the years pass.

So, Timothy’s in Africa… adding another birthday to the number of birthdays he’s spent away from home. I’ll get used to this — perhaps, in a way, I already am. I think of the years he’s been in Mexico or in Africa and each time I recall, as I’ve done today, that there’s really no place I’d rather have him be. In the hand of the Lord, anywhere in the world, is the safest and best place to be. He’s there ministering to the saints, visiting different remote villages and participating in ministering and teaching in Bible seminars. The opportunities have been a great source of joy and blessing to him as he spends time with old friends and new. So you see how I could not wish for him to be here and miss all that.

Once again my heart is filled with thanksgiving — knowing I don’t deserve the great honour and privilege of all these years of motherhood. My thoughts linger here tonight… thankful for a son who’s in the gracious and merciful hand of the Lord. God’s been so very kind to Timothy.

May you always be blessed. ♥

Smash Books & Upcycling

pamela ♥ — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 23:32:04 +0000

Reusing became renewing became recycling became repurposing became upcycling. Sort of.

Actually, each of these are simply names for doing something new or different with something old or used or originally designed for another use. Each are probably unique in application, though. I smugly threw them all together but I know there’s a difference between reusing and recycling for example. I can’t think of an example right off the top of my head, but I’m confident there’s a difference. This is only possible because I’ve seen art. And I’ve seen Art. I’ve heard music… and I’ve heard…

So, Amelia came in to ask if we could go and purchase a Smash Book. I wondered what this product might be — no, I really wondered what this product might cost! I think, Don’t jump to conclusions about this item… it’s probably not what it sounds like. And then Sara reminded me she’d gotten one for her sister. Hmmm, again I think, it really must not be anything at all what I’m imagining. So I thought I’d look up just what a Smash Book is. And then I see a new word I’m not familiar with: Upcycling. Trying to give respect, I think, there must be a reason they’re not saying “recycling” or “repurposing.” So… Wiki. Yes, that’s where I often turn when I hear or read something unfamiliar. Or forgotten. In this case, unfamiliar.

I’m not even so last year on this on. Apparently, there is a 1999 book, Upcycling. According to Wikipedia:

Upcycling is the process of converting waste materials or useless products into new materials or products of better quality or a higher environmental value.

The first recorded use of the term upcycling was by Reiner Pilz of Pilz GmbH in an interview by Thornton Kay of Salvo in 1994.^[1]

We talked about the impending EU Demolition Waste Streams directive. “Recycling,” he said, “I call it downcycling. They smash bricks, they smash everything. What we need is upcycling where old products are given more value not less.” He despairs of the German situation and recalls the supply of a large quantity of reclaimed woodblock from an English supplier for a contract in Nuremberg while just down the road a load of similar blocks was scrapped. In the road outside his premises, was the result of the Germans’ demolition waste recycling. It was a pinky looking aggregate with pieces of handmade brick, old tiles and discernible parts of useful old items mixed with crushed concrete. Is this the future for Europe?

So, reusing old or other materials and give them greater value. As I read this I think to myself, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and value is in the hand of the buyer. And then my imagination sort of went on a journey… and began to think of the gazillion possibilities. Well, at least hundreds! It’s a scrapbook, it’s a journal, it’s a collage, it’s a collection… it’s a Smash Book. Or whatever other name you’ll assign to the creation. I mean, there are often dual purposes for words. Just consider the word smash!

Here are some more Smash book ideas and instructions:
Altered Fantasy’s Upcycling blog-posts in this series.

Part 1 http://alteredfantasy.wordpress.com-part-1/

Part 2 http://alteredfantasy.wordpress.com-part-2/

Part 3 http://alteredfantasy.wordpress.com-part-3/

Part 4 http://alteredfantasy.wordpress.com-part-4/

Part 5 http://alteredfantasy.wordpress.com-part-5/

Part 6 http://alteredfantasy.wordpress.com-part-6/

May you always be blessed. ♥ ps

♥ Gleanings

pamela ♥ — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 00:44:44 +0000

This morning I’m reading in 1 Chronicles 21 & 22. There King David, yielding to the Lord’s chastening, chooses his punishment: “…let me fall now into the hand of the LORD: for very great are His mercies; but let me not fall into the hand of man.” (21.13) For his sin of numbering the people, it’s interesting that David would choose not three years of famine, nor three months being chased by his enemies, but three days, the sword of the LORD — choosing to place himself at the mercy of the Living God. He emerged from that time repentant, humbled and beseeching the LORD — and having just been chastened by the LORD, David found Him to be only faithful, only merciful, only just. It was God’s great mercy David sought and found; he found the LORD to be not only merciful but worthy of all worship.

So, in an act of worship — of love, in an act of remorseful obedience, he set out to build an alter — an alter of offering: repentance, adoration, peace. His recognition of self and His recognition of God compelled him to fall before the Living God in repentance and adoration. It is only when we see ourselves as we are — and see God — that He is just in His dealings, that He is just in His chastening and He is the epitome of love and mercy. We can come to such a conclusion when we have a right view of Him and a right view of ourselves — for, surely, He has not dealt with us according to our sin or our past deeds — even according to our feeble works of “righteousness.” He has dealt with us mercifully and graciously. For this, we can take the cup of Salvation and say: Thank You. Thank You, Thank you, LORD — for You alone have saved me, not given me as I have deserved but according to your mercy, You have saved me. Thank You.

“Return at my reproof; behold,
I will pour out my spirit unto you,
I will make known my words unto you.”
–Proverbs 1.23

And isn’t this what we want so desperately — the Spirit of the Lord and His words? We reject reproofs and we reject chastening — but it is the mercy of the LORD to reprove us, to chasten us.

We can learn a great deal from Kind David — there he erred, there he acted foolishly (admitting this himself, 21.8) and, in addition, he would seemingly lose a great deal. In his zeal, he sought to construct an alter for the LORD as a burnt offering, as a peace offering. But for his sin, he would not be the man to build the house of the LORD. This would seem such a heavy burden to bear — but, again, we do see the mercy of the LORD: for He gave David the heart and mind to gather the materials his son, Solomon, would need for the construction of the house. How merciful of the LORD!

I believe the great blessing of this whole event was was not simply God’s mercy on David, but God’s great mercy on Solomon — according to God’s great plan for blessing Solomon’s life with peace and quietness in Israel all his days. It is from such Scriptures that we can glean that God does much more in and through the trials and tragedies we face than we could ever begin to ask or imagine. We have much to glean from what David learned and from how he blessed and admonished his son, Solomon. I believe we’ve been given a glimpse of the potential each life — a glimpse of how God might use us or our children, how He might redeem our failures and how He might work for our good and His glory.

Let us glean from the Word, let us be mothers who seek the Lord, mothers who don’t faint in the day of adversity or fail to carry out the great calling on our lives. Let us glean from this and be mothers who seek His will for our children. Consider and glean from the many blessings in what David said to his son, Solomon.

11 Now, my son, the LORD be with thee; and prosper thou, and build the house of the LORD thy God, as he hath said of thee.
12 Only the LORD give thee wisdom and understanding, and give thee charge concerning Israel, that thou mayest keep the law of the LORD thy God.
13 Then shalt thou prosper, if thou takest heed to fulfil the statutes and judgments which the LORD charged Moses with concerning Israel: be strong, and of good courage; dread not, nor be dismayed.
19 Now set your heart and your soul to seek the LORD your God…” 1Chronicles 22.11-13, 19

What prayers we can glean from this portion. I’m ever more thankful that the Lord has given His living, timely, instructive Word. I don’t know what I would do as a mother without the ever present Hand and witness of the Lord, without His Word, without His Holy Spirit or without the gift of Faith.

“All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.” 2Timothy 3.16

May you always be blessed. ♥

Quintessential Motherhood

pamela ♥ — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 02:17:00 +0000

Throughout that week I wondered what the LORD would have me to write for that week’s letter. And so, in an attempt to prepare a letter, I sat down to write. Distractions, buzzers, timers, calls, the dryer’s beep-beep-beep, and the knocking at the back door… distractions. And then I thought: distractions? No: life. Life is what’s happening when we’re waiting and planning for something else to happen. And then I thought on this further and wondered: is this the story of my motherhood experience? Has it all happened while I was waiting for something else to happen? Have the days passed by while I was looking for a brighter tomorrow and a better way of doing things? While hurry-scurrying around, gathering, sorting, washing, folding, packing… suddenly the time comes for a departure.

Suddenly the time-clock runs out and this game is over or the hour comes. This is quintessential motherhood.

I came inside from the chilly porch where I hugged one of our sons and waved him good-bye-for-now. As he drove away, the darkness giving way to light and the early morning sun casting a pink glow on the snow, tears flooded my eyes and instantly, all the compelling rush was completely forgotten in the haze of the exhaust and the taillights slowly dimming in the distance. I stood there in the cold-still waving… the asl sign for i-love-you… and found myself wondering—questioning what significant thing had I contributed to that remarkable boy’s life? Was there anything noteworthy? All at once I thought of many things I’d forgotten to remember—things I suddenly realized I meant to say. Memories instantly flooded my mind — sort of like those endearing slideshows you see at weddings — the emotionally gripping photos that chronicle lives and bring tears and laughter simultaneously one frame after another.

Part of the calling of motherhood is that there will be suffering. There will be days of joy and sorrow. Sort of that paradoxical truth that in every adversity there is triumph and in every joy there is an inextricable mix of delight and sorrow. The sorrow part is the part we didn’t read in the fine print. The sorrow part is one of the consequences of endearment –one of the consequences I didn’t perhaps expect when I first received the confirmation call from the doctor’s office or when we first saw the indicator lines in the home-pregnancy test kit. No, in those days, we had no idea what lay ahead, what tears we’d shed or how many sleepless nights we’d spend waiting and walking. Waiting for a child to return home or walking a crying baby from one end of the living room to the other: round and round.

No, in the early days, we had no idea what lay in store a few years down the road. We had no grasp of where those first baby-steps would take those feet. We had no concept that snow-tires would eventually replace those training wheels. Even now, I probably have no real grasp of what the consequences of motherhood are. Just as I can’t fathom the exhilaration of tremendous joy, I can’t fathom the plummeting sorrow—both are those inexplicable consequences of endearment and motherhood.

I’ve often said I wasn’t prepared for these years—the gripping anguish of regret and disappointment, the overwhelming joy proud moments bring and the unstoppable ticking of the clock and the turning of the calendar pages. It seems new calendars are purchased more frequently now. But in reality, nothing and everything prepared me for these days. The LORD has been with me, guiding, abiding and upholding me —preparing me for each of the next days He’d bring. The preparation has been in the living. Bidding farewell to passing seasons and ushering in new ones prepares us for these goodbyes.

It’s quintessential motherhood: fully experiencing of all the seasons over and over. Experience, history… photographs and memories all prepare us for these goodbyes. As I look out at the morning glow on the snow… and then at the leafless, frost covered branches of my weeping willow tree, there’s sort of a melancholy hopeful looking forward to what this day will bring and how I’ll one day look back on this day.

I smile as I realize that with every good bye… there’s a welcome home. In the end, the true joy is looking to the ultimate welcome home.

May you always be blessed.

Facing and ‘fessing

pamela ♥ — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 04:05:02 +0000

I’ve been thinking of you and am praying that God is blessing you in your home today. I’m sure I’m not alone in the busyness of life or that there’s been more day than the day can hold sometimes. So I’m [still!] wondering how to do more in less time or how to make sure that each day I do what counts the most. And, I’ve had to face up and fess up to the fact that some days it’s not so much that there’s so much to do but that I’ve been focusing on the wrong things — allowing the unnecessary to override the necessary and allowing the frivolous to obscure the imperatives.

So, what are the imperatives? What things must I focus on each day or to what must I strive to attend to and what things have I been sacrificing in the squandering of the days? These are hard questions – or maybe the questions aren’t hard, but the conviction is hard to face and fess up to. Maybe you have things you need to face and fess up. This “fessing-up” is quite a freeing exercise. In fact, it’s so freeing, it’s a wonder we don’t delight in doing it more often. But, while it’s freeing, it’s also sometimes painful –painful because we will likely have discomfort as we make changes, painful because we’ll likely be embarrassed over our behaviour, and painful because of what’s lost and can never be retrieved. O, this doesn’t negate the marvelous work and redemption the LORD can bring to a situation or even a life, but in reality, time squandered is still time lost.

When we discover there’s a problem in our home and we want to get to the bottom of it, we might ask one or more of the children: what did you do? We might ask: who did this? Invariably, no one wants to fess up to the wrongdoing. None of us want to admit that we’ve either done or been wrong. But the incredible thing is that when we do fess up, there is a freedom –a sweet peace washes over us and we’re clean before the LORD. Our children experience this same freedom when they “fess-up” to the transgression—even if they face a discipline for it. Whether or not there is restitution made or a consequence to be paid, the freedom is sweet and the restored confidence is precious when they face and fess up to a transgression. It’s that way for us, too, before the LORD.

I’ve had to “fess-up” to squandering time, to wasting the gifts and talents the LORD has given me, to giving my attention to those things that are only temporal and have little eternal value or worth. I’ve had to ask myself again: What would I think if I walked in (as a stranger who heard that the mother in this home was an aspiring Titus 2 woman) and browsed through this home unattended?” Or, “Would my husband’s customers be satisfied with his work were he to work in the same manner that I do in our home?”

I keep these questions sort of simmering on the back burner to keep myself in check.

Probably the most difficult areas for me regard necessary sleep and computer time. These, along with food preparation are areas that can’t be avoided, put off or ignored. Since they’re needful or are beneficial, they can also be neglected or “abused.” In the examples I’ve given, discipline is required and I fall into that abyss of often doing what I want rather than what I ought to do. To rise early requires an earlier retiring at night – to be refreshed requires adequate sleep. My flesh fights against that. In addition, losing weight requires no snacking. My flesh fights against that. Limiting computer time means less browsing, less reading, less “justa minute’s” and less entertainment. My flesh fights against that. Instead of yielding to the truth of what I know is right, I find ways to justify what I want to do rather than what I ought to do. So I have to set and live within boundaries… the boundaries that come from times of facing and ‘fessing up. These are disciplines and though we may not want disciplines in our lives, it is through discipline that we put aside the things of the flesh and yield to the things of the Spirit.

These thoughts come from spending a bit of time in Romans 6 and 7. I would encourage the reading of these chapters and then ask the LORD to reveal to you areas that you, too, might face and fess up to. Maybe you have some areas of your life that need facing and ‘fessing up. I pray that as you do, you will see that the LORD is already there and you have all you need. He is your all in all.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins,and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
1John 1.9

May you always be blessed.

What’s a mother to do?

pamela ♥ — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 04:30:25 +0000

Dear Sister,
First, I want to thank you for writing — for it is in acknowledging our condition and in seeing our need that we can best affirm and apply, by the grace of God, the help or teaching we receive.

Second, though this may not be helpful, you’re not alone and your situation or your “dilemma” is not unusual. The devil may attempt to tell you otherwise, but what you’ve written is common to women who both come home from the “work-force” *and* who’ve been trained otherwise. The “trained otherwise” is the main problem — not the new daily routine of being home and not out of the home. That will be the easy part once you accept the calling and seek to define and live it. You will define it as you go — and you will live it as you define it.

The “it” is the high calling of being a keeper at home… the main tree of motherhood. Incidentally, motherhood doesn’t relegate a woman to never leaving the home or never having “outside” work — there are likely seasons where one or both of these will happen — but it is my understanding that the season of child birthing, nurturing and training necessitates that mothers stay home to heed the calling the Lord has placed on her life and carry out and do these things. Radical feminists will argue the point. But I will continue to defend the Scriptures that call a mother to be a keeper at home, to love her husband and her children, to be discreet, sober, good, chaste, obedient to her husband — seeking all of these — that the Word of God be not blasphemed.

Psalm 113.9 He maketh the barren woman to keep house,
and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the LORD.

As to the question of not knowing what to do. Here’s an exercise that might be helpful for you. It will take you some time, so you might print this off so you can address it when time allows. Here is the exercise:

List all the outcomes you desire (so far as it depends on you) for your life?
What kind woman do you want to be remembered as being?
As for your walk with the Lord, how do you see that worked out in your daily life?
How can you work these attributes into your daily life? What do you need to implement?
As for your behaviour and character what specific qualities to you most highly value?
As a wife? As a mother? As a companion?
What sort of atmosphere do you seek as a description of your home?
The appearance of your home? The flow and routine of your homelife?

You may never have had the instruction to be a “godly woman” or a “keeper at home” or a “homemaker” or a “mother.” But I think you might agree that you do have an idea what this looks like or a dream of what it might be like. That’s what I’m asking you to consider — that’s what I’m asking you to ponder as you go through the days ahead. Yes, you may not know what to do – exactly – today, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have any idea. You may not know the paints, the colours, the hues, the brushes and blades used in painting a portrait, but you’ve seen the portrait or, at least, you’ve imagined it.

Yes, you may have been “instructed otherwise ” and, therefore, you need to spend some time reevaluating, rethinking, reorganizing your thoughts about motherhood and keeping a home — that’s what that “exercise” above is meant to address. You may be mourning the loss of time — the robbing of your time and purpose as a wife and mother. Don’t let the devil deceive you that it’s too late. If you’re still living, it’s not too late. Don’t ever forget that. The devil will deceive you to believe otherwise.

That crafty devil’s playbook is very thin — he doesn’t possess many tools or ideas — so he plays them over and over and over again. The longer you live, the more you’ll see this.

May you always be blessed.

Life’s Threads

pamela ♥ — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 18:47:10 +0000

Through the years we gather and carry with us so many experiences and acquaintances. All of these are mingled among the successes and failures in the different testings and affirmations of faith. I marvel: the handiwork of the Lord; I marvel that He never misses a thread. Things I think are wasted, things long forgotten, prayers and petitions, praises and disappointments… God’s still holding all the threads of these things.

Time passes and memories fade — and then, seemingly by chance, an old friendship is rekindled, a memory is brought to mind, a photograph sparks thoughts of an event rarely remembered. But God remembers… His memory never dims and He’s not constrained by time or recollection. The threads, unseen or unknown to us, continue to be woven by His gracious and skilled Hands.

I’m reminded to not think He’s forgotten or that life’s experiences have little meaning. I’m reminded that all my yesterdays have tomorrows. The seeds sown in years past may seem to by lying dead in fallow ground… but in time I will see what became of those seeds — some carelessly, some intentionally planted in different seasons of my life.

A long distance phone conversation with a friend last week seems to have opened a floodgate of memories that leave me longing for the early years, smiling at the thought of the babies — now men and women — with babies of their own. And then, another surprise, a phone call and plans to spend some extended time together with dear old friends. Surely we’ll be reminiscing and talking over days gone by when we meet — I can hardly contain my excitement! Were that not enough, and surely not by chance, another old friend posted a couple of photos on Facebook… ah, the endearing faces, photos of little boys — now men — our first two sons. This led to my husband (who very rarely ever even logs on to Facebook) posting some photos of babies and little children… old photos! Threads of connection… bringing life circles around again.

The threads of photos and conversations seem to connect us to our past like nothing else — these are the good threads — the sweet threads. How sweet to think the Lord is holding all these threads together, that not a time is wasted or lost — even though we don’t keep tract of or keep tying threads.

Testing of Faith

pamela ♥ — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 05:55:10 +0000

“Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:” –1Peter 1.6-7

There seems to be no lonelier place than the den of rejection — few trials more painful and few trails more uncertain. And for us, as Christian women – wives and mothers, the enemy is at his fiercest when we give in to despair or, worse, self pity in the face of rejection. If we’re not tempted to retaliate, then we’re likely tempted to be defensive. If we don’t give in to self pity, then we’re probably headed down any of a number of other destructive roads — either literally or mentally.

Rejection is happening all over. It seems the devil is pulling out all the stops in his prowling around to see whom he may devour — and a devourer he is (or seeks to be!).

In a recent conversation, comments were being made regarding the number of marriages undergoing strife or, worse, separation and the incredible number of people in conflict in some manner or another. And I observed that never in my life have I witnessed such damage in homes, friendships, marriages, churches… not to mention the moral decline of society all around us. It’s staggering. It’s distressing.

So what do we do? What should our response, our reaction or action be regarding these things?

Puzzled, I recall the scripture that tells me to rejoice. Rejoice? Rejoice at rejection? Rejoice that things are falling apart all around me? Rejoice that there is so much division and squabbling? Rejoice that there are so many messes? Rejoice at all the loss? Rejoice at the decline and decay?

Rejoice: I am to rejoice and be exceeding glad. Not at the rejection. Not at the particular mess. Not at the sin or the gossip or the slander. Not at the loss. I am to rejoice in my Saviour. I am to greatly rejoice even when I am in heaviness through manifold temptations.

He has made a way… He is the way. I need to remember this. I need to live this.

1Peter 4.12 “Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you:”

2Peter 2.9 “The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished:”

I reminded in John 16.22 that no man can take my joy from me. He is my joy. And that I am the only one who can determine to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ. The devil only dwells in and dictates my thoughts if I let him and if I entertain his devices and his intent to destroy.

I cannot — I must not — do that, for I am to: (1Thessalonians 5.16) “Rejoice evermore!” I am to “Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, rejoice!” –Philippians 4.4

Ultimately, I know that I know that I know: I want to please the Lord — I know I want strong faith and I know I want to honour Him. So my response to trials and testings and temptations must be filtered through 1Peter 1.6-7 so that I will be: found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ.