Finding Joy

You are the joy in my soul

     I love Rend’s  collection of words to his songs.  They bring soul to my heart because I feel the divine in them.  So, today’s blog I am sharing where I am seeking joy all this New Year.

     Although I am broken, not nearly perfect, and in need of my Savior daily, I am open to coming into His arms each morning.  Through his love, I feel a new lift, an igniting of His light into me.  This is joy indescribable. 

     Sometimes I feel like heaven is only one inch away.  I can’t imagine the glory of the golden streets, but I believe it.  I can’t understand a life in eternity, but I believe it.  I don’t comprehend everything in the Bible, but I believe it.  I don’t’ know when Jesus will return, but I believe it.  That brings me joy. 

     This New Year I ask that God creates in me a clean heart.  I am in hope that He transforms a miracle in me, a work of art molded by His hand.  The anticipation of this brings me great joy because I know He isn’t finished with me yet.

     May your New Year be filled with God’s joy.

Grace of God

Grace

I have been studying how Jesus lived for many years.  I so want to be like Him, see like Him, serve like Him, but I always fall short.  I think that’s okay as long as I keep trying and seek His grace.

            I have specifically studied how Jesus would greet people and how He invited them into His life.  As a disciple, I  am encouraged to be an imitator of God.  That sometimes doesn’t feel like encouragement, but instead, a bar so high I can never reach it. So, these are the times I seek God and ask, “ How can I ever be all you intended me to be?”

            Gently He nudges, “ I will give you grace, my dear child.”  Grace undeserved but given to me for just trying to be like Him.  He gave that same grace to the women at the well when He told her all the things she had done.  She knew she was forgiven, didn't ask, just knew.  That was His first miracle in Galilee after turning water to wine in Cana.  Jesus invited her to be all that she could be now.  She accepted his grace and told others in the village.

 The second miracle was when the royal official begged Jesus to come with him and heal his son.  Jesus answered, “You may go.  Your son will live.” The official took Jesus at his word and departed.  While the official was returning home, his servant met him on the road to tell him the news that his son was living.

The third miracle He performed in Galilee was to tell the man, who had been crippled almost forty years, “Pick up his mat and walk.”  Just do it.  The man accepted his greeting and walked. He didn’t even know who Jesus was.  He was healed by the grace of Jesus.  The crippled man did nothing.  In fact, he saw Jesus later and then knew who had created the opportunity for him to be healed.

Each time I read these scriptures in John, I am amazed at how grace is the greeting, the vessel, and the end result.   Jesus’ grace flooded over sin, sickness, and honored obedience. 

May the grace of God be with you.  (1 Corinthians 16:23). 

The B-I-B-L-E , that's the book for me.

Why Do I Continue To Read the Bible?

When I was a child, I loved to hear the stories of David and how he defeated Goliath, and how Joseph’s beautiful colored cloak was taken from him but replaced by the King’s favor and became governor of Egypt. I never tired of reading about the birth of Jesus, nor drawing the three hills with crosses that represented Jesus being crucified with two sinners on each side of Him.  Each of these stories taught me love and trust in my heavenly Father, but also how to act and react in time of hardships.

As I grew older, I was attracted to the Bible for the same reason.  I take the teachings of Jesus, Paul, David, and King Solomon as advice of how to walk this land.  Sometimes in the dessert, I must pray earnestly as Jesus did.  When wondering how to live life, I read and trust the Proverbs of Solomon.  David gives me courage, Joseph teaches me how to endure injustice, and Jesus teaches me unconditional love.  Without these teachers and friends, I might rely on my own thoughts or actions.  Many times my thoughts and choices have failed me. Then, I would return to the Bible and follow its plan and advice and be successful and gain understanding.

The Bible is a nutrient for my soul.  It enriches me, encourages me, and gives me stability.  I may not understand all of St. Paul’s admonitions or desire his sufferings, but I do acknowledge the truths he learned through his trials.  The Bible is a bit like a scrapbook of all my friends and how they handled adversity, life choices, and blessings.  I learn from them and can model after their choices.  I can see Jesus climbing Calvary for me.  My heart sorrows that the brothers of Joseph were so jealous of him that they left him in a pit to die.  My mind explodes with gratitude when I hear the prayers of Jesus at Gethsemane and on the Cross. I hunger for the new truth found each morning in the book I have cherished since childhood.  The Bible is my rock and my foundation.  Without it, I would be so lost.

Finding Christmas

Finding Christmas

Each holy season, I try to focus on baby Jesus and not the commercialism.  Now, in America that is difficult.  As you read in my last blog, I tried to find Christmas at the mall with disastrous results.  So,as I sat early in the morning in my "Jesus and my chair", I began to pray and asked God to teach me. I have learned my faith needs daily bread to survive.  On this day, I was having a hard time staying still in the chair while I learned God’s word.  I asked God, “ How can I have a better holy season?”  Many times, I ask  God a question , then, pop out of the chair to make a cup of coffee.  My ADHD tendencies sometime make it difficult for me to calm down and focus.   Quiet meditation is a challenge for me.  Anyone relate?

As I passed one of my manger scenes, I felt an inward nudge to pick up baby Jesus from the nativity display.  I carried it back to my teaching, praying, learning chair, and held him.  I felt a warmth like a big hug or a soft ,velour blanket might give me.  I sat and looked at the figurine, but it wasn’t an inanimate object anymore.  Instead, I could see in my mind baby Jesus swaddled and resting in a manger.  As a mother and lover of new babies, I would have asked to hold him.  I know I would.  I would have cuddled his small body to me, touched his delicate hands and kissed his newly shaped head.  I would have held him close and secure so not to hurt or drop him and feel his warmth against my body.  This was my commission this holy season.

I am to hold baby Jesus each morning during my devotion time and meditate on all the times He held me in my life. I mean He watched over me through hardships, grieving, emptiness, or deep hurts.  In these quiet times with the Lord , He has revealed to me times when He went ahead of me and created safe paths, or had a certain person be somewhere so I could talk to them. I was unaware. Yet, he was always there. He has shown me how He has used certain babies to teach me love , grief, and compassion.  As I think on baby Jesus throughout my day, I can't forget the morning teaching.  It is a Christmas heart message that embraces me all day.

One of the strongest messages I realized last week was Jesus was born to be crucified.  As I hold new babies, I never think their destiny would be to be crucified.  Yet, God sent Jesus to and knew His mission on earth was to be crucified for our sins. That is pure love in a depth I cannot understand. That deep of love is in a spiritual realm that I am still learning.
            However, I have found Christmas.  Christmas is in the manger of our home.  Christmas is in the name of Jesus to whom every man and creature must bow.  Christmas is in every Silent Night that I hear and remember in my life time.  Jesus was there.  Jesus is here.  And the Christ child will be in every future Christmas if I just take the time to hold Him, to thank Him, and to meditate on how He has held me through my mistakes and my obedience.  Now, I truly have found Christmas.

The Manger is Empty but the Light is Still On

I have been reading The Manger Is Empty by Walter Wangerin.  His allegorical tales of the beauty and mystery of Christ’s birth have penetrated my heart.  As you who read me often,  understand that I love to meditate on the scriptures. I  try to put myself in Bethlehem the night of our dear Savior’s birth.  I enjoy visualizing Mary and Joseph and their reactions to Gabriel’s news to them.  I cannot know the details, but I understand the spirit of the words of the gospel depictions of that sacred night in the inn.  I realize that there was darkness all about the land. 

Man’s sinful nature had darkened the land and man’s heart.  We , mankind, needed a light.  Not a small candle, not a flaming chandelier, but we needed a light so bright , so immersing that it would reflect in our soul forever.  That was when God incarnate came to this earth as a tiny babe.  God chose a baby to communicate His message of love.

I know why.  Who is not allured by the cooing of a new born?  Who of you has seen the birth of a child?  It is at the very moment that babe takes his first breath that you ,the bystander, recognize a miracle. 

In 1970 , I helped start a school for teenage mothers at the YWCA.  I was called to be a part of this because when I taught at Central in 1969, pregnant girls were not allowed to attend public school.  Who needed an education more than a fifteen year old young lady with child?  I asked to help.  My superior was a fifty year old spinster with definite feelings about young girls out of wedlock.  I am not sure whether God put me there for me to nourish my  boss or nurture the young moms and babes.  I suspect I needed a little molding and purifying too.  My boss and I sharpened each other like steel against steel.  However, neither of us lost sight of our goal, which was to help the pregnant girl adjust to  motherhood and complete her education.  Retrospectively, I see how amazing that was.  We were both hard headed but big hearted.  We both wanted to make a difference in their lives.  I was called and she was assigned this new duty.  Together, with God’s grace, we built a mini school that facilitated education and parenting.

I would hear the phone at 2 a.m. and a soft voice would say, “ What are you doing Mrs. B?” 
I replied, “Just sleeping.  Do you need something?” 
“Yes, I am in labor, can you come to the hospital with me?”
“ Sure , I will be there shortly.”

It was the grandest opportunity of my teaching career.  I was chosen to be her encourager, or her birth coach, or her advocate.  Few father’s arrived to witness the birth of their babies.  Most of the fathers were long gone after the announcement of the pregnancy. Because of the moral embarrassment, many daughters and moms had become alienated.  I was just a neutral person who counted it all joy to witness the birth of a babe.  I heard the cry of the mother and tried to keep her focused.  When I heard the cry of the babe, I knew God was present. His light was there.  He breathed life into this little babe and made him whole.  I felt like the shepherds who witnessed the sky splitting open and allowing blinding light to guide them to the new babe.  Regardless of the circumstances, each birth I witnessed clarified my understanding of  a God so big, so miraculous, so creative that  I could not wrap my mind around His abilities, His gifts, His wisdom, or His ways. 

It has been many years since I was called to be a part of the birth process.  I did have one friend that asked me to come with her and her husband to be by their side at their first born son.  It still awed me how great our God is.

So, star of wonder , star of bright lead me to His holy sight.  I am praying that melody as I look upon the light given to our world.  Mary too was a young teen in a culture that did not accept births out of wedlock.  Both Mary and my former students were misunderstood.  Mary brought us Jesus supernaturally.  Jesus brought light into our dark world, our dark hearts.  The birth of a babe is a supernatural way to teach us of unconditional love.  Mary taught that.  My teenagers taught me that.  Most importantly, Jesus taught that for all the world to see, not just the wise men, not just Joseph and Mary, but all of us who cherishes the manger story each Advent season. 

Please share this story with your children, your grandchildren , and your neighbors and help them know the light that illuminated the earth two thousand years ago as well as today. During this busy season, take time to tell this old, old story and join in this Christmas season by bringing light to others.

Noticing brings light

Noticing brings light


As you know, I am trying to learn to oil paint. I have been working all month on a canvas illustrating aspens in autumn. I enjoy mixing the oranges and yellows and splashing them on the canvas. However, the greens must be handled so carefully. I must focus and decide which green is needed. Do I need an olive green to tone it down or a lime green to highlight the forest?


My teacher, Bill Inman, repeats over and over, “Evaluate what you see in nature. Don’t just go with what you think you know.” I try to control my mind that pops into my mind's eye elementary images of what a tree should look like. I dismiss familiar images and search to create new, fresh scenes. Some readers may think, a tree is a tree, is a tree. I used to think that before I learned to put in shadows, highlights, medium hues, and believable shaped tree limbs. I had a predisposed idea of what a tree limb should look like. I would paint it on the canvas, and Bill would encourage me to rethink how a limb is crooked, incomplete, broken, or very small or large. He is teaching me to alter my preconceived ideas and paint forms from light and dark brush strokes. He is asking me to alter my thinking to create a believable yet interesting painting.

As I drove home from my art class, I thought about how I desire to see more of Jesus. I hunger for a closer walk. I yearn to know his character and his Spirit. How do I do this? I think it is much like learning to paint. I must dismiss my preconceived ideas on how Jesus looks. Instead,, I need to study scripture and discover how the disciples described him, how John described him in Revelations or how Nebuchanezzar described him walking in the fire with his Meshack, Abendigo, and Shadrack. How did Jesus react to others? To authority? To his Father? From these meditations I can discern who Jesus is. I must not lean on childhood Bible books that depicted him as a fragile man in a white gown. I , instead, must find my own definition of who Jesus is and what he looks like. It is a bit like painting. I must focus, evaluate, and then discover my own style and interpretation. God calls me to see Him more clearly each day. I am altering how I see Jesus.

I like the painting at the top of my blog. The artist rendition of the face of Jesus shows so much compassion. I believe this artist discovered his Jesus by studying and learning about him. I share this painting and my experience to encourage you to look at Jesus in the light He reveals to you today. Alter your preconceived ideas by finding new understanding daily.