Too Much!

Can there be too much of a good thing?  I found the answer to this question in the isles of Walmart. I was standing there in front of the Oreos amazed. It used to be so easy. . .just grab the bag and go. And then they came out with double stuffed and I was excited! But now they have triple stuffed (which is TOO much) and there are the Oreos with mint filling and strawberry filling and peanut butter filling. It's just too much.

And then I went over to the coffee isle to pick up coffee for small group. I am not a coffee drinker so coffee is not something I usually buy. But I was hosting this group and I knew everyone else were coffee drinkers. And so I found myself staring at coffee with my mouth hanging open in disbelief. . .I won't even mention all the flavors there are. I just wanted to get plain black coffee. But even that was not easy.  There was classic roast, dark roast, there were light, medium, and dark and on and on and on. I was almost in tears. I just grabbed one and prayed they would like it.

Then I went over to the toothpaste isle and guess what. There were a gazillion brands and each brand had the option of having a whitening system built in or not, did I want baking soda in my toothpaste, did I want mint and  did I want that in clear or paste or with sparkles.

I just have too many things on my mind and don't need to stand in front of every single item trying to make a decision on what cookies, coffee or toothpaste to buy.

What's the deal? Are the markets just trying to please everyone knowing everyone has different tastes? My grandmother never, ever used a tube of toothpaste. She always made a paste of baking soda and water in the palm of her hand and brushed with that for over 90 years. She never went to the dentist and had the straightest, whitest, strongest teeth ever. So simple! So easy! So cheap!

I ponder why so many choices have become available and why everything is so expensive. Back in my grandparents day, things seemed so much more relaxed and easier, even though they were hard workers, it was a good kind of work and they layed down at night and slumbered well.  I think it's because they didn't have all these choices to make. And they had more free time to do what was important. I lay down at night and think of things like Oreos, coffee and toothpastes and then wonder why we all have to go to the dentist every year.

I think things should go back to the way they were before. Just run in for a loaf of bread and go. My grandparents would be back home enjoying a beautiful evening out together in the back yard. I'm still in the store deciding which bread to pick up. . .white or wheat and if wheat should I get the 100% whole wheat, the golden wheat or the dark wheat with all the seeds on it, or do I get pumpernickel, or go for the Italian or the Rye or Potato or French. And do I want to get round bread or in a loaf. Do I want baguets? Do I want cinnamon, raisin bread and if so, do I want it with the icing on top or plain? Or would I rather go to the refrigerated section and select Ezekiel bread? By the time I get home from the store I am worn out and hubby wonders why I feel the need to go take a nap.

Yes the older I get, the simpler I like it. I'm all for going back to the mom and pop stores where they just had one kind of each item or maybe two but not a gazillion. I'm stocking up on baking soda. Yes, I want a simpler life. 

Is that too much to ask for?

 

 



 

 

I Love You So

Long ago I carried you inside me. From the second I heard you were there. . .I loved you so.

As a baby, I would rock you in the middle of the night, soothing you, singing, rubbing your little blonde head, rubbing your arms till you slept again. . .and I loved you so.

As you grew a little more, I taught you all the songs of Jesus. . .this little light of mine. . .marching soldiers, all the little children. . .and you began to sing them all with me as you grinned so big and we would giggle. . .and I loved you so.

As you grew even more, I began to teach you how to write your letters and numbers on the driveway with chalk and we would laugh and you would smile so big. . .and I loved you so.

You grew bigger still and we continued to learn at the dining room table. You learned so well. You wanted Jesus to come into your heart and you shed tears and we prayed and you invited. . .and I loved you so.

You began to grow into a fine young boy, learning so many things, beginning to tap into all the talents God gifted you with. . .and I loved you so.

We would have many conversations, still many laughs, you smiled, I remember you throwing up your arms and saying,  "I love my life". . .and I loved you so.

Then God had our family take a turn in life and we left our Oklahoma home to come to Kentucky. You wrote me a beautiful letter after we arrived saying how appreciative you were of me making the move good for all, you smiled, you hugged me. . .and I loved you so.

After a year your smile began to leave. The conversations became less words and less loving. I didn't understand. . .but I loved you so.

Your eyes became dark, and your words spewed venom and I became sick. . .but I loved you so.

You left before your time and my heart broke and my stomach turned and I couldn't live off of the couch. . .but I loved you so.

The Lord came to rescue me and bandaged my heart, lifted me up and moved me on. . .and I still loved you so.

Years of heartache, watching from a distance, you live a life you said you would never live, watching your face with no more joy, joy disappeared, smile not genuine. . .and I loved you so.

You disappeared, only hearing twice your voice in the span of a year, and now it's been seven. . .but I love you so.

So many decisions made by you I did not understand, I could not comprehend, where was Jesus to you, I did not see, and as I pray for another rescue. . .I still love you so.

The little boy I rocked and sang to and taught and prayed over grew into a young man I do not recognize, I do not know, and I cry as I feel I have lost one so dear. I look at this stranger and. . .I love him so.

I pray with all my heart this stranger will become recognizable, I pray I will see that smile I remember, I pray I will see the joy back on that face, I pray I will meet my son again, but for now as I look at this stranger. . .I will love him so.

A Baby's Hug

I did not write this but I have seen this for myself with little ones at our downtown park with the homeless. . .


 *Baby's Hug ~ *
 We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a
 high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly,
 Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' He pounded his fat baby hands on
 the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was
 bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.

 I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose
 pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of
 would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed.
 His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so
 varicose it looked like a road map.

We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.. His hands
 waved and flapped on loose wrists. 'Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy.. I
 see ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks,
 'What do we do?'

Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.'

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man.
 The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal
 came and the man began shouting from across the room, 'Do ya patty cake? Do
 you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.'

Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.

My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik,
 who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who
 in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to
 pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat
 poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he
 speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my
 back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I
 did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's
 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself
 from my arms to the man.
 Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love
 and kinship..

Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon
the man's ragged shoulder.

The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged
 hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and
 stroked his back.

No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.

I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his
 eyes opened and set squarely on mine.

He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby".

Somehow I managed, "I will", from a throat that contained a stone..

He Pried Erik from his chest, Lovingly and Longingly, as though HE were in
 pain.

I received my baby, and the man said, 'God bless you, ma'am, you've given
 me my Christmas Gift.'

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for
 the car.

My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly,

and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me".

I had just witnessed Christ's love, shown through the innocence of a tiny
 child who saw no sin,

who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit
 of clothes.

I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not.

I felt it was God asking, "Are you willing to share your son for a
 moment"? when He shared His for all eternity.

How did God feel when he put his baby in our arms 2000 years ago?

The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me,

'To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.'
*(end of story)

Love does no wrong to one's neighbor [it never hurts anybody]. Therefore love meets all the requirements and is the fulfilling of the Law.

Romans 13:10

May the Lord make (our) love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else. . .

First Thessalonians 3:12

Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

First John 4:7

(Some of the homeless neighbors at our downtown park that God has taught me to see with different eyes and 
has filled my heart with a love I had not had before. . .)

 

 

 

You Paid It All

 

I heard the testimony of a young man. His name is Wes Morgan.

Wes Morgan was a young man who was hauled off to jail after a car crash hurting two of his friends. Wes was a drug user and drug dealer. Sitting in jail, he cried out to God and God met him there inside the prison bars. They had a talk. And Wes was set free in more ways than one.

He heard, "He who seeks Me is free indeed."

John 8:36

Wes said what you magnify will manifest. He began to magnify his Savior through worship. He turned his circumstances into worship which caused Christ to be the one magnified.

Wes has been delivered and free for over seven years and is now a pastor.

Wes sings to and for his Lord.

As we sit here in Holy Week pondering over what Jesus Christ did for us, let us worship too. If you are in circumstances that you do not like, turn to Him and begin to magnify Him in worship. Let's magnify Him and not our circumstances and believe He will work through those in His time.

~Let's worship now the One who paid it all. . .for us~

 

 

 

 

 

God Help Us

"God help us. We must go to people. Listen to people. Start where they are, not where we want them to be. And from their point of need, lovingly share the good news." 

Lysa Terkeurst

 

I heard the words from my first critic since my book Ya Know What I'm Say'n : Hearing the Voice of the Homeless came out. I have had an outpouring of love and support and the sales are very encouraging but I knew it was coming, and it did.

 

The newspaper did an article on me and the Blanket Ministry I had started and the book I had written and a lady saw it and decided to criticize on facebook. I do not know her.

 

I was told by many that when you put words out there for the public to see, you need to be sure you have thick skin for the critics. I found out mine is tough enough to take it, I was ok, but still tender enough that compassion is still here and it always will be.

 

The critic in a nutshell said I was enabling the homeless and she hoped I would take all my proceeds and buy them homes out in the country where I lived.

 

The only thing I would like to have seen happen is this:

 

Talk to me and get to know me and what I am about.

Get facts on the ministries before criticizing them.

Before criticizing a book, please read it first.

 

And my question back to her would be . .

"What is your answer if we don't go to them and help if they so choose to take it, to step out of the dire, depressed sinking hole they are in? Ignoring does no good. Complaining from our comfortable chairs does no good.

 

I like Lisa's words above and they sound a lot like something Jesus told us to do. . .

"Go."

 

When people see a snippet and does not follow up with facts, they miss so much.

There have been wonderful, happy endings from the bridge.

There are homeless who are now homeless no more.

The critics want there to be no homeless.

But the critics do not seem to realize that when you reach out a helping hand with a loving heart, sharing the love of Christ and showing the despaired one where they can find Hope,

the numbers on the street can begin to diminish.

But, it takes time.

And for those who show up, they could use prayer.

If one wants or needs to stay in the comfort of their home, then I would just ask,

Please, don't criticize, please pray for strength for all involved, guidance from the Lord, and an abundance of grace and love to give.

And please, be patient. Many good things take time.

 

I welcome all opinions.

I just ask kindness and respect and please know the facts.

 

God help us all. . .please and thank you!

 

If you would like to read the rest of Lysa TerKeurst's post, you can find it here:

 

http://lysaterkeurst.com/?utm_source=feedblitz&utm_medium=FeedBlitzEmail&utm_content=303165&utm_campaign=0

If you are interested in the book Ya Know What I'm Say'n, please click on the book cover to the right and it will take you to the Amazon site.

~Thank you and God bless you~ 

 

Grace In The Dentist Office

I found myself sitting in the waiting room of the dentist office while my son was in the back getting work done.  I had taken a book to read to pass the time, but I kept getting distracted by the people coming in.  The first one was a man who appeared to be in his early thirties.  He was sporting a bright purple Mohawk on his head with multiple piercings on his face.  I couldn’t help it. . .I stared. . .for just a second or two.  Then in came a teen age boy with his mother.  He was deaf.  They sat in the corner and seemed to be arguing. . .in sign language.  I couldn’t help it. . .I stared. . . for just a second or two. . .it fascinated me.  Then in came a young couple.  She was VERY pregnant.  I noticed no wedding band on her finger.  What I really noticed was her dirty feet and nails slipped into flip flops.  I couldn’t help it. . .I stared. . .for just a second or two. 

I wondered about each one of them and what their story was.  All kinds of scenarios went through my mind.  It’s so easy to put a story with an outer appearance and yet I’ve learned from my interviewing the homeless, that what is on the inside does not always match the outside.  The Lord knew this. . .I believe this is why we read in His Word. . . “For man looks on the outward appearance but the Lord looks at the heart.”  I quote this verse many times when talking about the homeless.  And yet, this day in the dentist office, I found myself staring, on the brink of judging.  And then I looked down at the book in my lap.  Guess what the title of it was?  “Why Jesus” by Ravi Zacharius.

Why Jesus?  Because he loves the purple Mohawks, the dirty feet, the argumentative teen. . .and me.  Why Jesus?  Because He gave His life to give us the ultimate gift. . .Grace.  I know of no other who gives grace and teaches us to give the same as He. 

Grace. . .an undeserved gift.  A gift I ask people to give to the “least of these.”  Was I issuing grace by staring and letting my mind wander?  Was I a messenger giving good news?  Not this day.  As I let my mind wander, one by one, each one in the waiting room was called to the back.  I found myself alone again.  I don’t know if I messed up this day or not, but as I was starting to beat myself up about staying quiet I was reminded,  I’ve been set free, I was lost but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see, this wretch was saved for ever and ever.  I don’t know where those people stand, if they will be at the banquet table or not.  So I prayed for each one, that if they are not now, they will be found, sight to be opened, and grace given to set them free. 

The purple Mohawk was very friendly and had a great smile.  The dirty feet and arguing deaf boy sweetly smiled at me too before leaving.  I smiled back.  Did they issue grace?  They might not have realized it, but I felt like I had received it.

Grace is such a powerful thing. It can float around a room and you think you know where it will land and then it lands right on you. My son left the office this day with cleaner teeth and I left with a more grace filled soul.  Three people touched me, though they never knew it.  I won’t waste it.  I will pass it on.  Oh amazing grace, how sweet the sound, how sweet the touch!

You Know You're a Blogger When. . .

( a repost because this blogger has been busy but I hope to get back to it soon. . .and, everything below still pertains)

 

 

You Know You're A Blogger When . . .

 

 

. . .you start carrying a camera everywhere you go.

. . .every sentence sounds like a post title.

. . .you have post it notes all over the room with post ideas.

. . .when you start having dreams at night about your posts.

. . .when you've learned what HTML code is and how to transfer it.

. . .you understand what a link party is.

. . .when you see a field of cow patties and your first thought is, "How could that be made into a post?"

. . .when you burn your pot holders and you immediately take a picture of them and write a post about it.

. . .when you see your button on other's blog sites.


. . .when you're willing to devulge your age for the sake of a post.

. . .when you begin to have a lot more friends from around the world than you do in your small circle.

. . .when you devulge the most vulnerable part of yourself, your, hurts, your craziness, praying it will help others.

. . .when people start coming to you, telling how your posts have helped and they share their stories with you.

. . .when people begin to publish your stories.

Never in a million years did I ever think I would write to share with the world. But then God spoke the word "Write" and I ignored.  He spoke again and I argued, He spoke again and again and again.  He kept telling me, "Share from your heart, and I will do the rest." I weakly said, "Ok." 

I'm so glad I did.   It has become a joy to write, to learn, to make new friends, even to become vulnerable and share hard things, because it has brought many to me who have shared their hard stories with me and we have the priveledge to bring these things before the Lord together.

What an honor that is and as I've said before, may all the things from this place bring glory and honor to the One who started all of this.
And if anything is good here, it is all from Him.

Thank you Father!

"It's a strange thought that sometimes God trusts us more

than we trust Him. Maybe all along He was saying "I knew

you could. I know what's in you. I know what's in you

because I am in you. And I am your all surpassing power

in a jar of clay. Watch me show off,

from the inside out".

Beth Moore