Today’s slice… such things as I have

teacuppamela.png Catching up…

I was thinking of contrasts today. Chilly here and 90 in Africa. Raining here but snowing up the street. Contrasts. But weather related contrasts weren’t the only ones I was thinking of. I smile now — because the day’s over and everything got done that needed to get done — but I smile, too, bcz early in the day I was fretting about some of the “such things as I have” and the condition of some of the “such things as I have.” And, by the way, some of those “such things as I have” were not things at all – they were schedules, relationships, children, etc., etc.

Now, I’m generally pretty content with the “such things as I have” things of life — until I’m not. And when I’m not, I fret. I worry. I compare. I doubt. And then I must needs repent. Truly. It’s almost as if I can see a visible dark cloud hanging over me when I begin to travel down that path – and I know it’s not a path of faith and trust. I have to stop and literally tell myself that whatever it is I am fretting over is really not that important or I have to ask: is this really that important? Is what I’m concerned over really mine to carry or whatever? What I endeavor to say is: if I’m the Lord’s – and I am, then I needn’t fret over the things I do or don’t have, the schedules or the children or the relationships or whatever else I’m fretting about. For, if I’m the Lord’s – and I am, then I have somehow stepped off the path or somehow determined I can and do know what’s best for me or how things are going to work out or whatever. And one precious thing I do know is this: what a blessing to not know what’s down the road or to not know just exactly the details and order of the outcome of things in my life.

I am working at being contented with the “whatsoeverthingsIhavetoday” things of life. For, all of these tasks, all of these needs to meet, all of these relationships, expectations and interruptions are all part of the “whatsoeverthingsIhavetoday” that God has given me – both for my good and His glory ( should I be faithful to yield my heart to Him and to obey). I know I want to obey I know I want to trust Him – and truly, these are not just precious words to a favourite hymn: I know I want to trust and obey, for truly I know there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.

I continue to work at being content… and I think of Philippians 4.11

Not that I speak in respect of want:
for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am,
therewith to be content.

I used to say: especially if that state is California… but I try not to don’t say that very often much anymore. really.

So, let’s see… on the home front, we have turned another corner. We’ve made some practical adjustments to our schedule and day to day activities, juggled the dailies and reassigned chores and have set our minds to work, so to speak, so that we can be more productive each day. We had slipped into some pretty sloppy habits… with chores and schoolwork and playtime and bedtime all sort of getting mixed up and out of order. So, it was a necessary thing to talk over all these things and make an adjustment in our course.  So, consequently, our rise ‘n shine time is much earlier again – as is bedtime.

I think I’ve gotten all the laundry done and I don’t see Timothy’s things coming through the wash now (except the items the different brothers absconded). I smile as I think of him… I could tell from his letter today he’s doing fine; happy to be where he is, and from piecing different notes together that he has sent to me and to some of the children, I’d say he is adjusting to life in Africa just fine. It’s a very hard life compared to here in America – there are very few amenities and fewer luxuries – those have likely already run out. But he’s where he’s always wanted to be and that’s just fine with me… Fine doesn’t necessarily mean easy – but like I’ve said before, I’d rather have him in the Hand of the LORD anywhere in the world than anywhere outside of the will of the LORD. I’d never want to spare him discomfort if it would mean compromising truth and trust in the LORD.

It’s all good.

It might not be all that noticeable, but I’m attempting to steer clear of hot topics floating in the blogosphere these days. Sometime back, my husband made a comment that we ought to have a strong conviction to work at charity in speech and so… I thought it fitting to recall what he said and to let those words sink down into these fingers and refrain from all the controversies. You know, years ago when I first started blogging… it was just simply a means to daily make notes of what was going on in our home, comments on mails I was receiving, websites I was visiting, and occasionally, comments regarding the ‘state of the church’ and some political going’s on. I just blogged informally for fun and info.

Nowadays, there are blogs are everywhere —great blogs everywhere— and that’s just it: great blogs everywhere (and not enough time to read them all – good as they are!). But there’s also another thing going on and that is the proliferation of blogs that are used to take potshots and sabotage others. I know we all engage in that to one degree or another (me included) from time to time in our speech or writing. But it sure seems there’s a lot more going on recently and it’s sad — O, it might be expected in the mainstream media, of course, but among believers, there ought to be a bit more discretion… especially when we’re dealing with things that are the “gray” areas of the Word — those things that are not clearly spelled out and yet are part of the Word – I think maybe part of the ‘he who has ears to hear, let him hear.” Sometimes those gray areas are what define us or distinguish us from others – either in the world or in the church – so we may bring up an issue, a trend or a topic – a book or an article or some other matter – share it, perhaps discuss it and then let it go at that. God knows… and He’ll work. I think there’s some value in discussion; but to continually dredge up and take part in all the ugliness of debates is really a poor use of time and space – both for the writer and the readers.

Besides, we all have so many “such things as we have” to deal with.

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motherhood… it gets different.

teacuppamela.pngI’ve been cleaning tonight. I decided to face the inevitable. I hadn’t been up to Timothy’s room in the last couple of days and so I decided to go up… to stand there… and then to sit among his stuff. It was interesting to spend time there — sort of assessing the life by what’s left behind, or to see what’s been important to him. One wall of the small bedroom is lined with bookshelves and on them are rows of books… dozens of missionary biographies and commentaries among a variety of other manuals, Bible studies and, generally, anything that pertains to evangelism, to missions, studying the Word and to the walk of faith.

On the floor were receipts, packaging and tags from last minute purchases. Some single socks. He’d removed the sheets and bedding and had some stacks of pants and shirts for the brothers to rummage through. and And then there is a small wooden train… miniature cars that stretch the length of one of the shelves. On the desk are gifts from Mexico and Africa and there are seashells. And a beach hat. He travels light. I smiled again at what was so obviously important and not imortant to him all his life — it was never a lot of stuff, never collections or showy things. I couldn’t decide what to pack away in the rubbermaid bins Wes brought home this afternoon for me to use for packing — I had asked him to bring three or four – now I see I won’t need all of them. I was going along systematically putting into the bins things I knew he’d likely want to look through someday – cards, pictures and some important papers.  I know it might seem soon to be doing this, but in a family with this many youngers, it’s best to get important things put away before they walk away.

I decided to keep a few outfits in case Timothy needs them when he returns — though he had asked me to just let the other boys have all of his stuff — somehow I wasn’t ready to see that happen. Things were all going smoothly as if he were returning in ten minutes and then I was struck with the thought that he was not coming back soon and will likely never come to live at home again — the reality of the permanence of all of this is suddenly overwhelming.  I thought: omygoodness – what?  is this for real?  (I know this happened when our oldest boys left home… but that was well over nine years ago — and they live +/- ten minutes away!)

I decided to take a break. As I made my way downstairs, I could smell the delicious aroma of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Mmmmm, mmm, mmmmm. Ahhh… another boy has mastered great cookies! I smiled… sort of a melancholy smile as it dawned on me that the day would come that I would be cleaning this boy’s room, too. I don’t know how many times I need to be reminded that this activity of launching children has happened and will happen several more times. I realized again that motherhood means lots goodbyes. Keenly aware once again that no matter what: time slips away quickly and we must let them go… we hold the babies in our arms for a little while; we hold their hands for a season; we hold them in our prayers every day but we hold them in our hearts forever.

I’ve spent a bit of time mulling over a conversation I had with a young mom some months ago – a woman I don’t know but I felt a bit of kinship with her through the course of our brief conversation. She was lamenting the plight of young mothers and the heavy load of each day. She was feeling overwhelmed and uninspired — overworked and unprepared for the task of motherhood and homekeeping. While she talked, she commented a number of times that she so looked forward to the days ahead when her children would be older and things would be easier — days when she wouldn’t be so tired and the children wouldn’t be so hard to take care of… I told her the same thing that I told a mama just last night: It goes so fast. You may not think so today and I know you’re real tired, but hang on — press on — it really does go so fast.

And, I’m thinking it really doesn’t get easier.
It gets different, maybe, but it doesn’t get easier.
What?
No.
No, I didn’t tell her that. But I should have.

I think that’s why we walk by faith and not by sight… for the days that aren’t easier.

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So, another chapter’s underway.

We just returned from Portland. The trashcan full of empty Starbucks cups, orange peels, granola bar wrappers and baggies of bits of remaining mashed sandwiches tells part of the story. It seems as though a week has passed since 5:00 am. The long drive home is just one of many distractions for which I’ve been thankful so far this year. It’s as if each distraction has been a special gift from the Lord – each has been a necessary thing, a necessary interruption or a necessary trial or testing of faith. I’ve wondered if I hadn’t had, or if we hadn’t had, all these distractions or interruptions, would I/we have been able to handle the emotions of these days? I know (without doubt, really) that God would have carried us without the distractions, He would have comforted and directed regardless the interruptions, but I also see how He allowed these things to lessen the impact or to actually obscure some of what might have been seen, heard or felt in the days leading to our son’s departure.

I’ve often said that anywhere in the world is safer, better, healthier in the Hand of the LORD than out of it. This isn’t an attempt at positive thinking or persuasion, I do truly trust that there is no place I’d rather be and no place I’d rather have our children be than in the hand or in the will of the LORD and surely, there is not a more fearful, dreaded place than outside the will of the LORD. Faith and trust doesn’t mean the absence of heartache or sorrow.

So, this morning when I hugged Timothy ‘goodbye-for-now’ I was keenly, albeit painfully, aware that God’s blessing was on him, that he was in the Hand and will of the LORD and that God would, at once, protect, guide and provide for him. It never fails that the hustle and bustle and schedules of airports are a subtle distraction to the impact of the moment and the overwhelming, raw emotions. So today, even in the midst of all of that, I kept determining that I’d be aware of each of the children and Wes’s heart for his boy — you know, remembering: “it’s not all about me” and I’m not the only one left behind.

Somehow, other trips were easier (and thankfully, there have been many through the years) and it was somehow easier knowing Timothy would be home again. But this time, unlike former trips and adventures, the separation is more permanent. Other times were short-term mission’s trips, school and work related. This isn’t just another trip, but the beginning of the rest of his life. Now, that may sound dramatic — especially since I/we sincerely believe that everyone, or every believer, rather, is called by the LORD in some manner, to preach the gospel whether in word or in deed. Timothy, like other ‘career missionaries,’ will not have an additional vocation but will be working full time in service to the Lord.

Now, it’s even later in the day and reality is beginning to set in. I’m missing Timothy so much this evening I feel like I cannot breath. His absence, as is true in his presence, is strongly felt. His clothes in the dryer was just one example of strong reminders that he was just here and equally so that he is not. He told all the boys they could have all his clothes and shoes and other things he left out. His bedding was in the washer – I suppose in an attempt to make things easier for me. I smile that no chore for him would be hard to do tonight… somehow doing the laundry is giving me the feeling that I’m still doing something for him. Even though no one will be sleeping there tonight when the freshly washed sheets are put back on his bed.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll have enough done on the webpage where I will begin a journal chronicling his life as a missionary in Tarkwa, Ghana, West Africa. I did this sort of journal for Kathryn when she went to Uganda last year and will add to it when she returns next month.

When Timothy lands in Accra tomorrow, he will travel north, about 120 miles, to Tarkwa where he will live. Initially, it will be both culturally and geographically challenging to him – but he is eager to be there, eager to learn and eager to expereince all that God has for him. His goal and plans are to assist the missionaries he’s traveling with, and to preach the gospel and make disciples — that’s the Lord’s command in Matthew 28 and, in addition, that’s where the missionary’s experience will be so valuable and encouraging. They’ve registered and are establishing a missionary school with the goal of cross cultural training and more importantly that the school will support itself and be operated completely by Africans. This is not a temporary ‘humanitarian aid’ program, but a life changing, training and equipping for ministry and self-sufficient or self sustaining school learning how best to use natural African resources. The resources are rich and abundant, the people are open to the gospel.

After a time of settling in, establishing the school, etc., with local believers working in the mission school, from there he will go with the experienced missionary further north seeking to reach unevangelized tribes and people groups. This is where the cross cultural training will prove to be invaluable: local believers reaching other tribes.

We pray for his work there… we pray for God’s blessing, provision and protection and we pray for good health and strength for them all. Most of all, we pray the Lord will receive great glory and that many will come to know and serve Him through whatever way the Lord uses Timothy.

To God alone be the glory.

Great things He has done.

more later…. —-pamela

A new journey.

teacuppamela.pngToday’s been one of those ‘not-so-clear-thinking’ sort of days. One of those, put the milk in the cabinet and the cups in the fridge sort of days. But I keep thinking: God is not the author of confusion but of peace and also that He has not given us a spirit of fear but of power and of love and of a sound mind. These are part of the whatsoever’s I’ve been thinking on (after I give into fretful confusion and recognize the need to clear thinking!). So, in an attempt to take every thought captive, I’m needing to continually resort to the whatsoever things are true, honest, just pure, lovely… think on these things.

We’re preparing for Timothy’s soon departure to Ghana, West Africa, where he will begin life as a missionary. Suddenly, today, I’m feeling overwhelmed, underestimating what needs to be done and in the midst of a flood of emotion I’m attempting to gather the needful things, address the necessary and set aside the unimportant – things for today.

While I knew this was coming, and really, I could say that everything and nothing has prepared me for this day, truly I see that it’s the hand of the Lord and His ways that matter – not what I think of these days and not even what I can pack or prepare to send that matters. I guess I know that no matter what we pack and send, there are so many unknowns and, in reality, not much space to pack the ‘known’ or the needed items.

If it were up to Timothy, I think the bag might contain a few articles of clothing, several books, his Bible, some commentaries and some pens – some pictures and important papers. And soccer balls. Minimal toiletries. And a hand pump. I think, so far, that’s all he’s packing. He’s found, wherever he goes, soccer balls speak a universal language – somehow, the simple activity of kicking around a ball, breaks language & social barriers and opens doors of communication unlike anything else. Well, maybe food, too. So… soccer balls travel well.

I’m waiting for an opportunity to add my two cents or at least a few things that make sense to me — you know, and at least a few things that will say to him: I love you. I’m also thinking of survival type things… double checking things like meds, first-aid, flashlights, two-way radios, herbs for ailments, nutrition bars, tissues and purell. Maybe, by the time he boards the plane, most or all of those things will already be or will have found their way into his bags.

Later…

I hugged him goodnight… mindful that he’ll not be here for good night hugs and humorous recounting of the days’ activities… after tonight’s sleep, he will likely fondly remember the cozy night’s sleep… the queen size bed, the memory-foam mattress and the down comforter that snuggles nice and warm with the window open just a tad for some cool fresh air. He smiled as he, too, realized it would be a long, long time before such a night’s sleep happens again.

I’ll write more about this later. For now, it’s off to dreamland… and that lingering place between awake and sleep when reality slips away and memories and dreams fade into yesterday.  And a new journey begins — actually, a bittersweet journey that began 20 years ago, and this is just the next page…
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In the inbox this morning…

teacuppamela.pngEvery now and then I receive an email that strikes a chord with me… perhaps punctuates a thought or confirms another study. Well, that’s how this one was for me this morning. As with all the other distractions to what’s going on in our family this week, I see this distraction as a welcome one – for it actually confirms the “why” behind what we believe what we believe and why we do what we do. When we take stands for the Word or when we take stands against the trends in the church today, it’s not that we are seeking only to preserve and promote an ‘old way’ but we seeking to shine a light on the atrocities of the ‘new ways’ of the church. Mostly, as one often encouraged and inspired by Spurgeon and as one who takes a stand against the false gospel of the so called post-modern ‘church,’ I share the following mail.

So, here’s from my inbox this morning:

quotebegin.gifGodThoughts Wired!

There is a ‘Different Gospel’ in Town: Part 2
Brad Reiches

Monday, January 7, 2008

GodThoughtsWired!

 

“There is a ‘Different Gospel’ in Town”
PART 2

Consider the following statement made by a man known as “The Prince of Preachers:”

 

“It is absolutely necessary to the preaching of the gospel of Christ
that men be warned as to what will happen if they continue in their sins…
You are too delicate to tell the man that he is ill! You hope to heal
the sick without their knowing it. You therefore flatter them;
and what happens? They laugh at you; they dance upon their
own graves. At last they die! Your delicacy is cruelty; your flatteries
are poisons; you are a murderer. Shall we keep men in a fool’s paradise?
Shall we lull them into soft slumbers from which they will awake in Hell?”
C.H. Spurgeon, bold mine

When the “gospel” is presented without a clear presentation of the law, sin, judgment, and hell, the requisite repentance necessary for true conversion is rarely present. The result then, are “false converts” who think they are saved, but are not (see Matthew 7:21-23).

One concerned GodThoughtsWired! subscriber questioned the validity of my concern. Perhaps clicking on the following advertisement might help:

Mars Hill Church Sponsors New Year’s Eve Booze ‘n Dance Club

I’m pretty confident that once the crowd gets “liquored up” for free, they’ll be pretty receptive to anything else the “preacher” has to offer. I can just picture it:

“Happy New Year everybody. Praise God!
Before our designated drivers escort you home,
I’d like to make sure that you’re going to Heaven.
How many of you want to go to Heaven when you die?
If so…just raise your hand right now…
I’ll say a little prayer for ya’…AND YOU’RE IN!
See you all at next year’s party. Please be sure and pick up a flyer
on your way out that tells you about our weekly gathering…
WATERIN’ HOLE WEDNESDAYS!”

When false prophets and false teachers give a false witness based on a false testimony and false signs & wonders; the result, more times than not…are false converts…

EVEN WHEN EVERYONE INVOLVED IS SINCERE!quoteend.gif

 

Later on I’ll share a bit of family happenings in our home this week as we prepare for Timothy’s departure to Africa where he will begin life as a missionary in Ghana, West Africa.  —-pamela

Another year over… have a nice day.

teacuppamela.pngOnly a few days into the new year and already it seems old. Actually, maybe not even a new year after all… just another month — another calendar — since the other one ran out of pages. I’m still thinking of Christmas. I’m thinking of all the chaos that surrounds Christmas – those who do and those who don’t: do Christmas. I’m thinking of all the expectations and the dreading other’s expectations. And I’m missing the songs. I’m missing the greetings in the local stores. After being able to say happy-Christmas for several weeks, “Have a nice day” just doesn’t seem to be ‘enough.’ But then, nothing is — ever enough, is it. Well, except for Christmas. I guess there gets to be a point where it seems like we all say: enough’s enough. That’s when we know we’ve really gotten our priorities out of balance — we’ve lost sight of what’s really important — what really matters.

Even still, I’m missing that special thing that Christmas always brings. And if I’m not very, very careful, I miss it at the time. I’ve had to guard against that my whole adult life – and probably much of my childhood, too (though I wasn’t ‘responsible’ for whatever Christmas meant and I guess my mama went through all of that at the time). There’s a very heavy aura about Christmas… the expectations, the hopes, the deep seated joys, longings, regrets and memories. Christmas music only seems to amplify whatever the emotion happens to be at the moment.

Many times as I was doing the dishes in the last month, I would hear: “I’ll be home for Christmas… you can count on me… please have snow and mistletoe, and presents on the tree. I’ll be home for Christmas… if only in my dreams.” And I would begin to dream. I’d dream about Christmas -past, Christmas that never was, Christmas as I had always hoped and Christmas that would never be. Several times, the same towel used to dry the dishes was used to dry the tears that seemed to well up at the most surprising times. And I’d sing along… And so happy Christmas…

When I accepted the Lord as my Saviour I had a real conflict of interest and many things had to be rectified. I had my little ‘t’ theologians and the Truth of the Word.  My little ‘t’ theologians were people I’d sing with all the time. You know, The Doobie Brothers — the little ‘t’ theologians who taught me to sing: Jesus is just alright with me (O, yeah!).   My little ‘t’ theologian, Cat Stevens who taught me mystical stuff that was hard to shake — because it sounded all so right.  And probably the deepest rooted, little ‘s’ spirituality and relativism came from the Beatles (and I was truly a diehard fan — much to my regret today). The more I read the Bible the less I would listen to all of that — the less I could listen to all that.

And the longer I walked with the LORD the more I saw that the enemy was subtly luring me with lies in all of that music — is it ever powerful: music. Jesus was more than just alright with me – He became my everything. So much music had to. go!!  And it did go in a big way one day.  I could no longer ‘imagine there’s no heaven’ – it was no longer easy (or desirable) for me to try —for I came to know there is a hell and above us not only sky.  And then there’re all the dumb songs I guess I’m really glad to bid adieu (even if I do get that sentimental feeling when I hear: deck the halls with boughs of holly, tis the season to be jolly).

So it’s another year over.

But some of the songs of Christmas still ring in my ears. I can hear the singing — the old songs, as I think of the old year, the new year. And Christmas.

quotebegin.gifAnd so this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
Ans so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let’s hope it’s a good one…”

It’s a new year.

Have a nice day.
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The dawn of another year…

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I didn’t really make any new year’s resolutions this year. I don’t ever really do well with resolutions – I set lofty ideals and then fail. But you know, there really is something about a new year, a fresh start, a clean slate that has a particular appeal to me. I want things to go well – I want things to be fresh and new and without all the problems or blemishes of the past or without the obvious failures or even partial successes of the past. So, I guess I must, deep down, have a desire to set and keep new year’s resolutions — even though I say (or feel like) I don’t.

So, I’ve been mulling over many things in the last several days. You know, the good things and hard things of the last year – the “all that happened in 2007” things. I’ve been mulling over some of my life “resolves” — things I resolve to do, be or say. Sort of the planks I stand on in life. What are they, for sure? I’ve been asking. I’ve also been praying… I’ve asked the Lord, what would You tell me or what would you show me if my whole heart was fully yielded to You? What could You do with or through me if I were totally yielded to You? I listen for the voice of the Lord — but I suppose many times I discount the voice or I think I don’t hear completely or whatever. O, how I want to be resolved that I will seek the Lord – I want to hear the voice that Elijah heard (1Kings 19), when the Lord was not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire – but was there… a still small voice. And I know God is faithful – He is and has been faithful. I think of those things I feared but that did not come to pass. Those things that I feared that did come to pass —but— the Lord was with me — He was before me. He is before me and behind me. His grace is sufficient for the day and His provision is steadfast and abundant: beyond what I could ask or imagine.

On this first day of 2008, I’ve had the privilege of seeing some of the most spectacular sights on earth. From the rising of the sun to the darkness of night, I’ve been keenly aware of the presence of the Lord. Early this morning, I stood on a hilltop looking out over the vast prairie of Idaho; it was still and quiet except for the sound of snow crunching under foot and a few birds that would occasionally swoop down. The view was absolutely breathtaking; it seemed I could see for a thousand miles — and I was filled with astonishment at the beauty of the Lord and of His creation.

Later, as we traveled west, over hills and valleys, through strong winds, over great rivers and hundreds of miles wheat fields blanketed with fresh snow which was illuminated by the sun and it seemed to glisten like millions of millions of diamonds. We were again mesmerized by God’s handiwork — His provision — His creation. Many hours later, as we traveled down our lane, we could see the little twinkle lights in the windows seeming to say: welcome home… and now in the warm house we’re mindful of His answers to prayer, His merciful kindness, His protection and provision and all we can say is: thank You.

I Stand In Awe Of You
Mark Altrogge

You are beautiful beyond description
Too marvelous for words
Too wonderful of comprehension
Like nothing ever seen or heard
Who can grasp you infinite wisdom
Who can fathom the depth of your love
You are beautiful beyond description
Majesty enthroned above

And I stand, I stand in awe of you
I stand, I stand in awe of you
Holy God to whom all praise is due
I stand in awe of you.

It is the dawn of a new year, and I am filled with both awe and hope – for what He has done and what He will do. And I do stand in awe of the LORD… I’ve had time to think of what God’s done in the past year – again, those things I feared that did, and those things I feared that didn’t, come to pass in the last year. O, the countless miracles and tender mercies of the Lord. It’s because of these things and more that I resolve to obey the LORD and I do stand in awe.

So, the first plank I want to stand on this year is the plank of faith.
The second plank I want to stand on this year is the plank of wisdom.
The third plank I want to stand on this year is the plank of truth.
Still another plank is the plank of discretion.

At the dawn of this new year… may I — may we — be found faithful. I pray God will complete the work He’s begun.

 

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The arm of the Lord

teacuppamela.pngMany times I have stated or thought in times of trial: The arm or the hand of the Lord is not shortened that it cannot save – nor His ear heavy, that it cannot hear. I say this in response to difficult situations, poor health, wayward children, financial reverses or adversity and, among many other things, despair.

Have you ever sought to understand or answer: How long is the arm of the Lord or how great is the hand of the Lord? And if we cannot begin to answer the question: how long is the arm of the Lord, then how can we possibly fathom that the arm or the hand of the Lord is not shortened that it cannot save.

quotebegin.gif Behold, the LORD’S
hand is not shortened,
that it cannot save;
neither his ear heavy,
that it cannot hear:”
Isaiah 59.1

How great is the Hand of the Lord? The Lord who holds His hand over the sea… The Lord who shakes the trees of the wilderness… The Lord who calms the sea that the wind and the waves obey Him… The Lord who who says (Isaiah 52.2) “Is my hand shortened at all, that it cannot redeem?” Do you see: at. all. “Is my hand shortened at all…”

There is nothing too hard for the Lord. I may face a mountain of troubles, I may grieve or struggle with health trials or disappointment or loss or financial adversity – but this I know —I know— there is nothing too hard for the Lord. Nothing. The hand of the Lord is not shortened at all. There is no life, no situation, no trial, no hardship too far or too hard for the Lord. The hand of the Lord is not shortened at all. The enemy of God, the enemy of our souls would have us to believe otherwise. The enemy, the devil, would have us to believe that we are without hope, that we have failed too many times – or worse, that though we might not be failing at the moment, it’s only a matter of time where we will fail again and then again we will be too far for the Lord or beyond hope – beyond hope of ever doing better – ever getting things right. The enemy may even persuade us to believe that it would be better if we were dead – that our life is of little use – of little or no worth – that we are the only ones with the type of troubles or the sins or the perpetual destructive habits.

The enemy is constantly waring against our members seeking whom he may devour. He is at once our tempter, deceiver and accuser. Consider that when temptation comes, it is sweet… seemingly harmless, easy and without consequence: Here… have this food, tell this lie, destroy this evidence, no one will see, no one will know, tell that secret… or whatever. But then if we yield to temptation – whatever it is, instantly(!) our tempter becomes our accuser: Ha, how could you have been so dumb, how could you have done that, you always do that, you’ll never get past this, you’ll never be thin, healthy, strong, trustworthy, competent… or whatever.

But God. We turn to God, we turn to the Truth: And we hear: “Is my hand shortened at all…?”

I think of the verse: “This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.” (Psalm 34.6) You see, the Lord hears and the Lord heals and the Lord lifts. He is at once indeed Jehovah-jireh (the Lord our provider) and Jehovah-rapha (the Lord our healer) and Jehovah-shammah (The Lord is present) and Jehovah-Shalom (the Lord our peace).

He is our All in all – for this I know: He saved this girl. And if He thought on this girl, He will surely think on you. This poor girl cried and the LORD heard her and saved her out of all her troubles. Because this whosoever believed. This whosover believes.

quotebegin.gif That all the people
of the earth might know
the hand of the LORD,
that it is mighty:
that ye might fear the LORD
your God for ever.

Joshua 4.24

We trust in and proclaim His greatness… we consider that His arm is not short nor His hand shortened that it cannot save. Over the past week I have thought on the hand of the LORD… my own hand in pain because of gout/arthritis in my thumb – my hand has failed me, so to speak, a few times – pain prevented its use. But the Lord is never stilted or halted from His work – He is ever present, ever able, ever waiting, ever watching, ever providing, ever preparing, ever guiding, ever preventing… and on and on: ever able. And I marvel that the hand of the Lord is never shortened that it cannot save – no matter what, no matter when.

So, have you asked: How long is the arm of the Lord?

 

pamelasig2.jpg

flood update

teacuppamela.png  We’ve had many inquiries as to our local rainfall and potential flooding of the River…

Here’s the NOAA link we’ve been watching… and, so far as we can tell, the flood danger has passed even though there’s still a tremendous amount of water over the banks of the Snohomish River!

For perspective, here’s a link I posted just after the flood in November of last year.

All’s well… God is still on the throne – a verse that I read during our first flood season in this old farmhouse always gives me great comfort and assurance: “The Lord sitteth upon the flood; yea, the LORD sitteth King forever.” Psalm 29.10

So…
Sunshine or clouds — dry land or floods, warm summer breezes or cold blasting storms: The LORD reigns. He sits King forever.

pamelasig2.jpg — standing on dry ground.