One Last Breakfast In Bed

This evening I pulled out of the driveway headed to work and happened to notice that my MaryAnna pink magnolia was beginning to bloom!!  I planted this tree two years ago in memory of my Mom, Maryanna.   It has served as an annual reminder of the new life Mom enjoys with Jesus in heaven.  This year, it also reminds me of the new life God is birthing in me, of the dream He is dreaming in my heart concerning writing and speaking for His glory.  It seemed God's timing that I planned this evening to write about the final (and most memorable) "meal" I enjoyed with Mom, and enter it into The She Speaks Contest.  Five hundred ninety-five dollars will be awarded to two winners, enabling them to attend the Proverbs 31 She Speaks Conference this summer in North Carolina.  (Please visit link below for additional information).  I've been praying about the possibility of attending, and my sister informed me of this scholarship opportunity.  Who knows??  My Daddy knows!!  Of this, I am sure, He has come to give life and life more abundant, and He gives good and perfect gifts!!  He may surprise me with the unexpected means to go to North Carolina or He may make another way altogether.  No matter, He is GOOD all the time, and the two of us thoroughly enjoyed writing about the last few moments WE spent with my Mom before she left for Home.  May you too be blessed by the account.

My MaryAnna Tree in Bloom at Night

Sunlight flooded the room turning all things golden.  Dust particles floated like the downy feathers of angel wings on the morning rays.  Mom broke the silence with a smile and a welcomed request for something to drink.  She had slept soundly for twenty-four hours on the hospital bed delivered the day before by Hospice Supply.  Now on heaven's threshold, she knew her battle with congestive heart failure was soon to be won.  Surrounded by her children, cradled by Jesus, she rested like a baby for the first time in weeks.  We watched and prayed, much as Jesus had asked His inner circle to do in the Garden before He drank the cup.

This last supper with Mom was my most memorable meal.  Time had come to pour her a final cup to refresh her parched throat.  She pursed dry lips to sip, and savored several drafts of 7-Up.  The whites of her eyes had turned honey gold.  I knew as a nursing student it wouldn't be long.  Her liver was failing.  Dew disappeared from the roses on her pale cheeks, and she looked up and said, "I'm hungry."  My sister immediately excused herself and ran to the kitchen.  She soon returned with a perfectly lovely piece of lemon pie, Mom's favorite food on Earth.  Jesus had prompted a neighbor to bake and deliver the pie that very morning.

Mom's smile widened on seeing the treat.  The peace of Christ emanated from her as she opened her mouth to be spoon-fed.  She commented on how wonderful it tasted and then said with a grin, "What if I live?"  We all understood that this was her way of saying, "To live is Christ and to die great gain."  Filled, although we hadn't taken a bite, we returned her smile. 

Mom's fight to live now over, she taught us one last lesson around the family table:  how to trust Jesus with our dying breath.  She had been a superb cook herself, an incredible hostess, always inviting people to her table.  How fitting that Jesus invited her to breakfast in bed in the presence of loved ones, serving her her favorite dessert on a humble plate.

To refer to Mom as a survivor would be an understatement.  She outlived her siblings and parents, and possessed a stubborn will to live life to the fullest.  Perhaps God's greatest miracle in her occurred that day, when He granted her faith to yield to the dying process, to enjoy every moment of coming home with Him.  The memory of this scene served alongside a shivering slice of lemon pie half eaten feeds my soul to this day.  Mom taught us much about how to live, more importantly she finished well and taught us how to die.  This she did at the table God prepared for us in her bedroom.  Following the meal, she drifted off to sleep and never woke or spoke again.

For additional information on She Speaks, visit http://lysaterkeurst.com/2011/03/she-speaks-scholarship-contest-2011/
For more spiritual refreshment, visit Spiritual Sundays.

Forever You've Marked Me, Mom!  I love and miss you!!!

 

Learning to Fly in His Shadow,

Terry

Kingdom Builders and Rulers

Today was a day of peering into Congress Avenue shops while waiting to dine on spicy fish tacos at the Congress Street Café  We were casually looking for a reasonably priced picnic basket (which we did not find), and a bronze skeleton key for Lori to wear as a necklace charm.  In Uncommon Objects, we walked up and down neatly arranged and somewhat color-grouped rooms flocking narrow aisles.  There were items from a medical school (anatomy charts, old medicine bottles, bones and skulls, trays and instruments), many statues of the Virgin Mary, an Elvis lamp we joked about purchasing as a wedding gift for Al and Sarah, lots of antique furniture from different periods, and more than the eye could take in!!  The pleasing, and at times disturbing, arrangement of random relics was but a foretaste of what was later to come. 

  From here we wandered through a few consignment shops, home to vintage clothing, every possible design of cowboy boots, and jewelry from years past.  Just before brunch we roamed through Monkey See, Monkey Do, a shop that carries all things monkey, where I bought baby Eyth a Curious George book for week 14 of Charlcie’s pregnancy.  (I’ve been buying a book each week, building my grandbaby a library.  Some have been purchased on vacations, or special outings – this one on my birthday weekend).

After brunch we went to the Umlauf Sculpture Garden and walked the pathways of this outdoor museum where “art is framed by nature”.  Statues peered at us from their perches creatively situated around ponds and a waterfall, posing for our admiration.  Wooden bridges and islands with larger than life figures – many of lovers, biblical characters, saints, or mother and child captured our attention.  From here we went to another of Austin’s cultural attractions:  the Cathedral of Junk!

When looking at something unusual, I often ask, “Lord, what do You see?  I invite His interpretation and ask Him to share with me any messages hidden in what I’m looking at.  This was the case as I toured the curious work of “yardist,” Vince Hannemann.  I wandered and wondered what inspired this man in a tired Austin neighborhood to begin such a project?   What, after twenty years, continues to motivate him to modify, add to and subtract from this creation of his.  I meandered inside and around the structure noting “artistic elements” (arched openings, skylights, use of lighting to enliven the space).  I applied rusty principles of design and art appreciation to the study of this cathedral, admittedly a bit distracted by the JUNK itself.  All the while, I listened for God’s voice.  It seemed to me the artist probably intended for his work to raise questions in the minds of visitors.  It seemed he erected this building, different from any other, not only to keep Austin weird, but because he had something in his heart and mind to express.  Something he hoped might interest others.

Vince Hannemann on his throne

Before launching into what the Lord shared with me concerning the cathedral, I need to provide you some personal background.  God has for the past couple of years been inviting me to come to Him and find rest; rest from worry, rest from fear, and rest from trying to recreate or redefine myself.  During this season of emptying my nest, of admitting to myself that my identity has little to do with accomplishments, roles, or relationships with those closest to me, God has consistently and gently coaxed me to come to Him to discover who I truly am, and more importantly Whose I truly am.  By His grace, I’m beginning to see that my efforts to build a house for Him, a life for Him to dwell in with me, a temple complete with a throne for Him to occupy, compares to building a cathedral of junk.  Not that the Father has not appreciated my heart and even my efforts in “this project,” He just has longed to free me to live in the house He is building for Us; the house He’s designed and wants to add rooms to for generation after generation of my family line.  It is funny to me now to look back and see all the ways God has been seeking to communicate this invitation to me.  He has in more ways than one been drawing my heart out, and into His Grace House.

His desire all along has been to build a house for the two of us, a house filled with His presence, a house from which His life emanates.  God’s one-of-a-kind floor plan for Our Home, filled with secret chambers of communion, rooms without walls between Us, and glory windows through which His beauty can stream, takes my breath away!!  He has invited me to rest in His arms and allow Him to design and build this Temple for two!!  In exchange for self-reliance, He offers me life in the Spirit, not as a nice sounding concept, but as REALITY:  He in me and I in Him.  Words fail me, but I begin to understand the difference.  I can honestly say, I have ceased striving to build a house for God to dwell in – a fine Christian life that might attract attention to my Savior.  I’ve ceased trying to build or uphold an image, to perform to the crowd I am surrounded by, to find my sense of value in the people He has graciously allowed to be a part of my life.  No doubt I’ll stumble and attempt control again for self-reliance is a deeply ingrained pattern hard to break, but there is a shift in me that God is responsible for, and He will not fail!!

Glory streams from His Cathedral

There were a number of parallels in the cathedral of junk to a believer attempting to build a life to God’s glory.  Many of the building materials for the cathedral at one time no doubt shaped or expressed the preferences and personality of their former owner:  television sets (media influence), toys (action figures, Barbies…), sporting goods, mirrors (our view/perception of ourselves), CD’s (music), typewriters (tools of one’s trade)…  All of these objects were wired together to form walls, create and frame openings, and even to “landscape” the area surrounding the cathedral.  It reminded me of the fact that we are more than the product of our past (the influence of others and the world upon us, and of our own perceptions of ourselves).  We can attempt to build a house pleasing to the Lord with these materials, and with lots of well-meaning flesh effort, on the dusty soil of our humanity.  OR, we can accept God’s offer to build for us a Home to come into and dwell with Him.  This Home, perfectly suited to who we REALLY are, is a forever shelter.

We entered the “Court” of the Cathedral of Junk through a wide and rickety gate too heavy to swing smoothly on its hinges.  The pickets were heavily laden with hubcaps and various nailed on objects.  The cathedral, invisible from the street, was situated in the back yard of an older home with trophies adorning the awning over the front porch.  Littering the front lawn, were miniature piles (arrangements) of “junk” scattered about, hinting at the three-story structure behind the house.  Just as with the Cathedral of Junk, much of our life is hidden, so to speak, in the backyard!!  We may put a few trophies out front to attract attention, and even expose some of what is “down under,” but our REAL life is known only to God.

My Delight is to Tabernacle With Him

  

Donations were accepted at the gate once you got beyond the barking of harmless dogs.  I thought about the torn veil into the Holy of Holies.  How privileged we are that Christ paid our entry fee, but our response of love to God’s grace blesses Him as did our donation the creator of the cathedral!!  This cathedral, playground to puppies tumbling about, seemed a whimsical place, child-friendly, purported to be engineered to withstand storms.  The cathedral creator was perched atop his creation working leisurely to transform the ever changing face of his building.  He warmly invited us in, boasting of the soundness of his structure.  He wanted us to come up where He was working.  The three story building had a vaulted ceiling and a large concrete throne no longer centrally located.  We were told the city recently demanded the owner dismantle a portion of his building located too close to his property line due to codes.   This isolated the throne off to the side, leaving it exposed, and no longer logically surrounded.  The wall left standing behind the throne interestingly enough was comprised of stainless steel crutches.  In these elements I saw countless reminders again of the story typical of man’s life:  brokenness, healing, tearing down, rebuilding and off to the side a manmade throne, massive but out of place (meaningless).  In our efforts to build a spiritual cathedral for God, to house Him, we tend to also set up a throne more or less off to the side, relegating Him to our own concept of what His rule should look like.  We expect certain behaviors out of Him, and base our security, our faith on this illusion of who God is.  We are easily disappointed.

There were shiny objects throughout, which made this Swiss cheese pile of junk “beautiful”: silver CD’s glinted in the sun as they twirled on invisible fishing line in columns, broken pieces of stained glass, mirrors, colorful bottles, chrome, even tin foil.  These reflected the sunlight and caused it to dance about on the dusty floor open to the sky above.  There were windows, one which my daughter leaned through, Rapunzel-style, letting down her hair!  The window looked to be made of a wheel rim.  There were arched openings and tight passageways adding to the feeling that you were traveling back in time through a structure you might have built as a kid when imagination was without limits.  Staircases were nonexistent, only ladders wired to precarious walls of various items, with rope handrails.  Wind chimes played, adding music to our experience of this cathedral.  The artist behind the cathedral had a green t-shirt on with gold letters spelling out “REUSE”.  He looked rather ordinary, not what I expected, a friendly eccentric collector who believed in recycling.  I thought about My Creator and the House He is building for the two of Us.  I imagined the message that might grace “His shirt” were He to wear one.  I feel sure it would read “REDEEM and RESTORE”.

I couldn’t help noticing the large head of a dragon hanging on the fence, smiling with eyes fixed on this counterfeit cathedral.  This caused me to think about the enemy of our souls who delights to see us building cathedrals of junk even as believers.  He is amused by our failure to understand our true identity.  He hopes we never will discover the freedom God offers when we cease performing and enter into the House God is building for us to enjoy with Him.  There were several toilets worked into the walls, oddly grouped with bouncing horses.  Random!!  This and so much more, and a beautiful old oak at the back of the property looking on.  Because it was the dead of winter, no vines climbed the walls to obscure the view.  It was abundantly clear to me I no longer want to build to amuse, rather I want to move completely out of performance based Christianity, and live in the Grace House God is building for Us.  I’m thankful He has been dismantling the cathedral I’ve built – removing lies and false beliefs, giving me in exchange the security of being truly at Home (in myself) in Him, covered as with the Tabernacle coverings, known, deeply desired, belonging to Him forever.

In God's presence is fullness of joy; At His right hand are pleasures forever. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. And He said, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, To all who call upon Him in truth.

Earlier I asked a question:  What was in the mind of the creator of the Cathedral of Junk?  I propose that in the heart of this artist lives a desire to build and to reign, one he has artistically expressed more openly than most.  He may or may not understand this God-given desire, but the cathedral he has raised pictures well the longing in all of us.  For just as there is a God-shaped vacuum in the soul of all men, there is also a desire to build and rule a kingdom.  We were made to dwell in God, to live securely in the House He will build in the empty void of our longing hearts.  He desires to share His life with us.   We were made to rest in what He has done for us, to trust Him absolutely.  In fact, we were knit together in our mother’s wombs as worshipers, with an undeniable desire to worship Him in the Holy of Holies – the cathedral – He promises to build in the heart of every believer.  From this place of unparalleled intimacy with our God and Father, He will restore us as builders in His eternal kingdom.  He promises that in union with Him we will also reign.  While He shares His glory with no one, He shares His very life that we might experience His glory inside of us, escaping through us to affect the entire world!!

The redemption story is written into the fabric of who we are.  It can be perceived in unforeseen places and persons if only we ask for eyes to see and ears to hear the Lord.  He desires we know the freedom of a relationship with Him, not the bonds of religion.  He desires we live in Him more than for Him!!  He desires we live according to revelation not reason.  He desires we surrender and know the blessing of being cared for!!  He desires we rule and reign WITH Him, not alone or in opposition to Him.  In the end every knee will bow and every tongue confess that He is Lord.  Those who do so before He returns enter into their kingdom destiny, and join Him in the home built for them in heaven, where He will graciously satisfy every desire forever and ever.  Amen

Lord I want YOU to occupy the Throne of My Life!

Singing in the
Shadow,

Terry

From Cathedral of Junk to Tabernacle

More to come on the subject of the Cathedral of Junk, a thought-provoking “masterpiece” Lori took me to in Austin over my birthday weekend!!  Thank you to my precious children for giving me the joys of being a mother most of my life.  The three of them, plus B, help me to glimpse the love the Father has for His children welling up and spilling over continually.  Enjoyed the weekend with you all.  I love you guys!!!  Mom

How He Loves Us

"His love is like a hurricane and I am a tree..."

Have you stopped lately to consider God’s love for you?  Have you in amazement meditated on Holy God’s jealous desire for you??  Have you pondered His great affection for you, or the fathomless ocean of grace you swim in every moment of life?  Sometimes, God catches me unaware with a warm personal reminder of how deep, high, wide, and eternal His love is for me.  Then, in ecstasy, I have to somehow find a way to respond to His love while still remaining in this skin.  My heart in those moments yearns to depart from my chest and run upon the waves toward Jesus, to throw longing arms about His neck and cover Him with kisses forever.  Tonight God shone His Beauty all around me, and swept me away in His love!!

"If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking..."

I wish you could step into my heart and know a little history, but I trust God can make personal for you His message of love and hope without you possessing such knowledge.  Nothing limits God!!  So, on to the encounter.

Driving home from lifegroup the Lord brought to mind in vivid detail a patient I had cared for the past two nights.  Then He turned the spotlight on her name, her first name.  It so happens, that God inscribed this name on my heart in June 2010.  At that time He endeared me to a little girl bearing the same name who changed my life forever.  I can’t describe how I felt as God repeatedly spoke this name to me in the car until it hit me.  I had been addressing my patient by her last name all this time, overlooking her first.  God took me to a scene from the night before when her brother called her repeatedly by her first name!  It finally dawned on me, God had much to say concerning this person and His heart for her.  He now had my undivided attention!!  I treasure His voice and His timing.

The Lord spoke to me His thoughts about this patient, intimate personal thoughts about how deeply He loved her, viewed and valued her, and how He strongly desired to speak HOPE from heaven over her right this minute.  I glanced at the clock on the dash and realized that I had 30 minutes before visiting hours would be over at the hospital.  I drove past the street leading to my home, cut over to Highway 6, and headed for the hospital.  I felt profoundly compelled to go, all the way the words of God playing continually in my head.  He expressed that He wanted her to know that He had a future and a hope for her.  He inspired prayer en route for the breaking off of chains potentially contributing to her current state of health.  He led me into battle for her in the heavenlies.  Then He prompted me to pray for full restoration and recovery of all bodily systems, and indicated I was to do this again audibly at her bedside.  Excitement rose in my heart, mingled with the tension that accompanies entering a room with such a mission from God.  After all, He held out to me an invitation to step into “impossibility” with Him and ask for miracles, something a little outside the norm and comfort zone.

"Go ahead.  Step into the waters with Him!!"

I opened my car door and the biting wind tousled my hair, and resisted my approach to the building with an icy hand.   Nonetheless, I proceeded with a holy compulsion from the Father.  He reminded me of the lengths He went to in pursuit of His chosen ones, with a message of love and hope burning unquenchable in His heart.  He simultaneously lit a fire in me, and it was a delight to be warmed by Him from the inside out!!  I bounded up the stairs and entered the room to find family present.  I told them what God had said and directed me to do, asking their permission.  Then I stepped up close, put my hand on her forehead, my lips to her ear, and while stroking her hair spoke and prayed the heart of God over her.  I felt nearer to Him than I can describe as He breathed through me His words of hope, of love, and of life.  As I left the building God encouraged me to continue to believe what We had prayed would indeed come to pass!!  And I asked Him for more faith to keep on believing in the miracle He desired to give to this one so precious to Him.  I experienced His heart for her and for me, much as I did months ago under the summer Ugandan moon.   On my way out, I thought about the price He paid to set  captives free, to heal every disease, to gather His redeemed ones up in His arms and delight them with the indescribable joy of knowing Him.  How can you say thanks for a gift of such magnitude??

"You're my Healer, Lord!!!"

I turned on Kari Jobe and took the highway home.  Two songs back to back were God’s answers to my prayer for more faith.  I sang them with God over my patient.  I encourage you to listen to Healer and How He Loves Us posted at right.  May you be blessed as I have been this evening by how He loves us!!  Oh to walk with God in this life!!!  He is such an awesome Father, Friend, Healer, Lover, and thrills to take us on adventures of restoration, if we will only listen and brave the winds of resistance.  Please pray with me for the patient mentioned, for this apple of God’s eye, whom He desires to heal and restore.  He knows her name!!

Dedicated to Jesus and a special little one of His!

I love You, Lord, more than I can say – burn deep and bright inside me – fill and consume me with Your holy fire, and take me up and into Your glorious purposes for others in my sphere.

Praying Boldly In His Shadow,

Terry

Dancing for His Smile

This morning tiny feet danced and golden locks bounced as a precious child worshiped her King.  Uninhibited by what others thought, looking only to learn new expressions of this love burning within her, she leaped on happy feet!!  Her little hands clapped and then reached for Daddy in the sky.  Her face grew radiant in the light of His smile, and she returned it over and over.  She lost herself in worship, so much so that she tripped over her own feet, only to rise again triumphant with a leap.  She wasn’t embarrassed, looking to see who might have seen her fall, she wasn’t concerned with the fluidity of her movements or whether she looked foolish – and she looked anything but foolish!!  Adults towering above her were drawn to look down at the little girl pouring out the perfume of her love on Jesus.  Knee-high to all around her, the little Kingdom Giant taught us how to dance for Abba’s pleasure, how to twirl giddy with His joy over her.  We followed her boldly into the throne room where she danced and danced unaware the music had faded. Her brother put a loving hand upon her head to calm her movements.  But, she was a child in love, and her feet just had to dance in His presence for His smile.

Dancing in the shadow, Terry

Flying in the Shadow of Your Wing

I dedicate this to my B*E*A*U*T*I*F*U*L  S*I*S*T*E*R  M*A*R*Y, who along with God is enabling me to fly with Jesus, into "new atmospheres", to obtain from the Holy Spirit an "aerial view", a "new perspective" on the troubles of earth and the joys of heaven (here and now!!).   Infuse my wings, Lord, (and hers) with Your precious blood shed on the cross so that we might take flight and reproduce true abiding life.  Thank you, Mary, for emboldening me to take risks, for giving me your support to be different, to be creative, to BE!!  I love you so very much.  The latest song posted is the one I spoke to you about.  Listen for the angel voices.

"How precious is your constant love, O God! All humanity takes refuge in the shadow of Your wings.  You feed them with blessings from your own table and let them drink from Your rivers of delight.  For You are the Fountain of life; our light is from Your Light.  Pour out Your unfailing love on those who know You!  Never stop giving Your salvation to those who long to do your will."

Flying with you Sis in His Shadow,

Terry

Always On His Mind!!

Have you ever asked God to give you a symbol to remind you of His love for you?  This idea has intrigued me for some time.  My youngest sister, during a challenging season of life, asked God for a symbol and He gave her the cardinal.  Divinely timed cardinal sightings surprise and delight her, like notes from her Beloved written upon wings of scarlet.  I heard a speaker mention a few weeks ago that God gave her red grapes as a symbol in their relationship.  God creatively uses this fruit of the vine to intimately communicate His love for her.  She told of a past speaking engagement during which a gentleman entered the building quite unexpectedly with a cart full of red grapes.  When questioned, he indicated that God told him that morning to purchase a large quantity of grapes and bring them to this women’s conference!  He had no idea why, but obeyed God anyway, and without knowing it delivered a well-timed reminder of God’s love for her.

After hearing of several women’s experiences along these lines, I asked God to give me a symbol.  Then I waited expectantly for Him to make evident the symbol of His choosing.  Over Christmas I had a number of uninterrupted hours to just be still in God’s presence and listen to Him.  During this time I wrote a story for my little grandbaby while sitting beside a Christmas tree in the Bed and Breakfast we stayed in.  It seemed God situated me beside this beautifully lit tree for a visit.  During our time of communing and writing together, He drew my eye to a golden dragonfly with outstretched wings, seemingly in flight.  I so identified with this winged creature.  At the time I wrote, “One ornament different from all the rest stands out:  a golden dragonfly with lacey wings.  In this season so full of dreams I feel I’m taking flight like that gilded dragonfly.”  I continued to write and pour forth both my love and God’s love for this new life being formed in my daughter’s womb.  I did not immediately realize that God had revealed the symbol!

This evening I took out the story We began writing while sitting beside the tree.  God had directed me to several verses the night before as I prepared for work, and I could hardly wait to sit beside Him and finish coauthoring this story.  I changed the line I mentioned above to, “When I dream of you (my grandbaby), I soar like that gilded dragonfly with God’s breath beneath my wings.  I let God take me to wonderful places in my thoughts.”  The verses God wanted to incorporate into the story were Psalm 139:17-18, “How precious it is, Lord, to realize that you are thinking about me constantly!  I can’t even count how many times a day your thoughts turn towards me.  And when I waken in the morning, you are still thinking of me.”  I felt God wanted this child to know from the beginning that He thinks about him or her continually.  It dawned on me that my request for a symbol boiled down to my wanting an intimate reminder from God that He thinks about me, like lovers do.

I went online hoping to find a golden dragonfly just like the one I’d seen on the tree.  During that search, I came across what the dragonfly has symbolized for years in many cultures.  I began to see God’s choice of this winged insect had thrilling personal implications.  As I unpacked the symbol, I sensed God’s love and affection in choosing this symbol.  I saw myself poised for flight in that little dragonfly God pointed out on the tree.  I had no idea He saw me too (His lover in the symbol), and knew all He was going to say through this shared reminder of Our love!!

I delved more into the Christian symbolism of the dragonfly as though looking for buried treasure.  I also combed the internet for fascinating information about this wonderful creation of God.  I’ll share a few things I learned through hours of reading in my next article.  But for now, I must tell you what topped off the evening with God with sheer joy.  God reminded me years ago my good friend, Rhodema, gave me a potted plant with a decorative stake in it.  Atop the stake was a dragonfly!  I went out to the garage and found the one and only remnant from my gardening days covered in cobwebs and dust, leaning forgotten against the wall.  I didn’t have the heart to throw it away the last time I cleaned the garage because it had been a gift.  The stake was bent and rusted through in a couple of places, and as I washed the bedraggled ornament the wings on one side fell off in the sink.  I picked them up and dried them off, and then carefully hot glued them back on.  I thought ten pages worth of thoughts about my life as represented in this dragonfly – in this symbol God chose years and years (eternity) ago!!  He even saw to the preservation of this little dragonfly so He could re-gift it as a small token of His intimate knowledge of and love for me.  “Teresa,” my little dragon fly now flies among the flowers of an arrangement in my bathroom to remind me continually of My Love who thinks continually of me.

LOVED IN THE SHADOW,

TERRY

The Heart of the Won Prodigal

This week my Life Group Leader proclaimed 2011 the Year of the Prodigal.  I thought it no coincidence that I happened upon the music of Jonathan Helser tonight and listened to You're Never Giving Up.  The song is all about the prodigal gloriously won and completely overcome by his Father's love for him.  The song is not for the faint of heart.  It is a passionate song, and will rattle the walls of your heart if you engage in losing yourself fully in the mind-boggling love of the Father.  May it be the song on the lips of our prodigals this year!!!  Yes Lord, Yes!!

Worship in the shadow, Terry

I Received Joy for Christmas

This evening the Lord built a fire for the two of us in the western sky.  The sun set like a molten tangerine while my family and I traveled I-35 home from Arkansas.  Lovely does not begin to describe the backdrop to the skyscrapers of Dallas.  Due to an accident in the road ahead we were detained and the view blocked for a few moments.  When the wreck cleared and we moved forward, I looked to the right of the car and the sky burst into flames.  It wasn’t long however before red and pink embers glowed hot on the horizon.  After a few breathtaking minutes, the vibrant colors faded and purple smoke rose in their place.  The sky then turned to pitch and filled with stars on this last night of 2010.

The Lord made certain I spent several evenings stilled before a fire over the holidays.  For three glorious nights I lingered long before a soul calming blaze in a cozy cabin on the White River.  He set the tone for sweet communion with Him and with my family.  Best of all, He invited me HOME to be with Him, to that place deep within me where He dwells.  There He spent hours tending the fire of love between us.  He spoke to me, interpreting past experiences.  His perfect timing and ways never cease to thrill me.  Obviously, He planned down to the finest of details how He would deliver His messages of love and emphasize key truths through symbolism and repetition.

The cabin itself, sandwiched between a railroad track and a river, served as a megaphone held to the lips of God.  Situated in the midst of continuous movement, this cabin rested quiet and still, save for the gentle vibrations created by passing trains.  Inside my family relaxed, dreamed, and deepened bonds.  Personally, I came HOME while inside a home not my own.  I drew near to my Lord, got VERY STILL, and knew myself better in the process.  This equipped me to love my family out of the overflow of His life.  The Lord spoke to me on a number of subjects:  true sacrifice (what it is and what it isn’t), the importance of stillness, creative grieving (which bears much fruit), and transformational darkness.  What He emphasized most was JOY.  He didn’t just talk about it either.  He gave of His own over and over and over.

Loft I Shared with The Lord and My Daughter

There were messages hidden in the décor of the cabin, in the floor plan and in the manner in which it was lovingly and thoroughly stocked.  There were messages and opportunities in the last minute changes which made possible more family joining us at the cabin.  There were “mini-retreats” – little private campouts with God and at times with family members in cabin lofts.  God graciously taught me more of what it means to become like a little girl, thereby continuing to mature as a woman loved by Him.  He also spoke to me about the deeper meaning of entering the narrow gate, and I couldn’t help but notice that all the little narrow doors in the cabin were made to look like gates, complete with hardware.  God repeats His invitations over and over!!  The bathroom where I dressed and prepared for the day had numerous black bears frisking about, on the shower curtain, bath mat, in pictures and in items about the room.  God spoke to me through these little figurines and pictures.  One particular morning, I couldn’t help but look deeply into the eyes of two black bears looking up at me interested and concerned.  One held a Christmas tree, the other a bell, and both wore their winter scarves and holiday hats.  They seemed to affirm that I was to continue to listen to the Christmas bells within my own heart – to really “get the message in full” from my Lord during this brief holiday interlude.  And in their playful poses, I heard God’s appeal to spend time engaging in play, play with Him and with my kids – to join them on a horseback ride, to follow His prompts for building community.

Good and Faithful, Father, Lover, Best Friend, Playmate, … thank You for resting and loving me so well!  And thank You for the gift of JOY!!!

Rest in the shadow, Terry

The Prodigal Father's Joy

“But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet.  And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate.  For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.”  Luke 15:22-24

Next week I am helping to hostess a party for my life group.  I chose “JOY” as our theme, and planned for us to take time to pray for our children, particularly those who are prodigals.  The idea came about one night at life group when one of the members promised to kill the fatted calf and put on an extravagant banquet when his daughter returns to the Lord.  Another father in the group said, “Why not feast by faith now?”  Then yet another father jokingly added, “Yes, after all it is the year of the rib, right?”  Thus the feast by faith was born.  We plan to eat (barbeque, of course), fellowship, worship, and pray with exceeding great joy!!

I wanted to decorate the table in keeping with our theme and had already purchased glittered ornaments that spell the word JOY.  In addition, I purchased symbols of the work of God in our prodigal’s lives:  skeleton keys as a reminder that He alone holds the key to their hearts, and butterflies symbolizing the freedom and new life that comes with truly knowing the love of the Father.  I continued my search online for ideas for our party and came across an excellent sermon on the Prodigal Father, by Noel Due.  I encourage you to check it out when you have time at http://www.sermonaudio.com/sermoninfo.asp?SID=627102230130.  I listened enthralled by the picture of God the Father reconciling the world to Himself.  I saw for the first time the Christmas story within this parable.  The JOY OF THE FATHER in the parable held me spellbound.  Some may misinterpret this father's actions, and even label him passive.  Yet this father understood all along that to draw his son to Himself he had to let him go!!  He gave his son what he asked for and then proceeded to wait patiently for his return, knowing he had loved him well.  This father sought and found his prodigal by continuing to be the loving and joyful father he had always been.  He allowed his son to come to his senses and to the end of himself, all while he waited patiently to bless him with forgiveness and the restoration of their relationship.  If there were tears in this father’s eyes, they were tears of anticipatory joy, not of self-pity, regret over his parenting, or worry.

In the parable, both of the father’s sons failed to receive and operate out of their father's love for them.  The younger son openly expressed his hatred and demanded his inheritance, essentially saying, “I wish you were dead.  I only want what You own.  I care nothing for you.”  The older son served his father, but obeyed with the attitude of a slave, considering his father an unfair master.  He worked for approval and missed completely the love and delight of his father.  The younger son defiled himself and squandered all he was given by the father.  He then crawled back to the father hoping against hope to at least be permitted to live as a hired hand on the father's estate.  He was in for a surprise.

The Father unconditionally loved both sons and allowed them as adults to exercise their free will.  The younger son chose to turn his back on him, yet he never turned away from his son.  His face was always turned toward him in love.  He waited, knowing his love would ultimately win the boy, and when the boy was within sight, He RAN to meet him.  Although culturally unheard of, the father hiked up his skirt and ran,  pleased to identify Himself with his shamed son.  He ran in view of all the villagers and embraced the son who had not loved him.  He demanded no recompense.  Instead, he put his robe and signet ring on the boy.  Both symbolized full reinstatement of sonship  (relationship and inheritance) and authority to run the father’s estate.  Then he held a banquet and invited everyone to share in His joy, because his son once dead now was alive.

This father loved without missing a beat, and the boy was won.  With an understanding of what he deserved, the boy was amazed to find his father full of joy and prepared to celebrate his return.   No doubt the boy rejoiced in his father's love and finally entered into the joy of his father.  The father in the parable reconciled his son to Himself by giving up his own life (to include the inheritance), humbling himself (running shamelessly to the boy), and forgiving him.  Then he restored to his son everything he had squandered.

The older son questioned why his father never killed a fatted calf for him.   He never realized all that the father owned was his.  Nor did he understand that he was equally loved and blessed, not because he obediently served his father, but because his father’s very nature was love. 


How does this parable compare to the Christmas story?  Look closely at the Prodigal Father and you will see God the Father reconciling His children to Himself.  Hated like the father in the parable, God nonetheless humbled Himself, laid aside His glory and came to earth intent on dying for us.  He ran to us unashamedly, choosing to identify Himself with us by becoming a man – a tiny helpless infant in a manger.  He grew, experienced everything we experience, and yet lived a perfect life of love.  Then He voluntarily gave up His life for our sakes on the cross.  He paid the price to reinstate us as His children when we were defiled, broken, starving, and selfish.  He gave us the right to become His sons and daughters, a right we could never merit.  And our heart was won and opened to receive His unconditional love.  At that point, we entered into the joy of our Father. 

We can learn much about Christmas joy from the Prodigal Father.  He loved and permitted others to choose to receive and reciprocate his love.  He understood the power of unconditional love and remained confidently joyful even when misunderstood, rejected, or hated.  He was full of joy for he lived a life of pure love.  He rejoiced to see men reconciled and relationships restored.  He celebrated relationships extravagantly and cherished reconnecting with those he loved.  He gladly gave of all he had, no strings attached.  His joy was to give Himself.  He is a joy-filled Father.  That is why in His presence there is fullness of joy.  Joy originates and flows from the Father’s heart into ours so we may in turn share it.  May the Father's joy be yours and mine this Christmas and always!!

By faith several in my life group are waiting in love for their prodigals to come home to the Father.  Please join us in praying for any prodigals you may know and love.  Believing His love powerfully woos, we wait patiently with HIS JOY in our hearts, celebrating ahead the day when our loved one will turn for home and meet The Father running on the road to embrace them.  May the Lord continue to help us to wait as He waits -- expectantly and joyfully!!
 

Rest in the shadow, Terry

I Heard the Bells

At times I struggle to generate or recapture a mood I associate with Christmas.  You know, that steaming hot chocolate, twinkle of tree lights mirrored in your child’s eyes warm feeling I’m talking about, don’t you?  After fifty-two Christmases, I have an encyclopedia of sights, sounds, divine aromas, and feelings to draw from.  This year my family will celebrate Christmas away from home, and for that reason I chose not to decorate the house.  We agreed to share in the expense of a Christmas vacation together rather than exchanging gifts.  Different from years past, I am working Christmas Eve and sleeping Christmas Day, so I’ll spend the wee hours of Christmas morn’ in the company of patients in ICU, not family.

The familiar reminders:  a life-size nativity in the hospital lobby, lights on other people’s homes, winter wind driving leaves across crowded parking lots, and piped carols in restaurants and stores tell me Christmas is approaching.  But the build-up this year has seemed strangely foreign, in a sense hollowed out.  And in the place of all that formerly stirred anticipation inside me, there is quiet and ample room for Jesus to come.  It dawned on me this week that He planned this year’s advent for the two of us before Mary laid Him in a manger.  Night after night He sings carols of joy over me and shares secrets from His “Christmas encyclopedia.”  My heart overflows!!

I must admit to striving initially to lay hold of the Christmas spirit.  Last weekend, I set my table with Christmas linens and dishes and bought two Glade Christmas scented candles.  I toyed with the idea of going to Bath and Body Works for some fragrant holiday lotion to trigger in me the desired mood.  My son and I, on a chilly evening, took holiday drinks and dessert and looked at local Christmas lights.  It began to “feel” a lot like Christmas, but at the same time from the depths of that hollow place there sprang a cry for more.  I sensed God inviting me to spend time in the book of Luke.  He also directed me to buy a few Christmas cd’s on the sales table at Family Christian Bookstore.  Deep called out to Deep, and He answered!!

He came like a winter snow as I listened to my new favorite Christmas song on the way to work.  That evening I had spoken with my daughter on the phone before leaving for work.  I hung up feeling helpless, a mom with an inferno of desire for her to be blessed burning out of control in me.  I wept prayer, and then selected this song from one of the aforementioned CD’s.  Not only did I listen to the words as I played and replayed it, but I surrendered to the sweet comfort of Jesus through it as He came and overshadowed me, a quiet cooling blanket of pure white snow upon my feverish heart.  I knew He understood!!  I knew in that hollow place that He was present and gifting me with a sampling of Christmas joy.

The following night, my heart again longing for Him, and for a peace-filled holiday in the company of my children, I raised a cry to God while driving to work.  I expressed my desire for a vacation from brokenness, from conflict, and from heartache.  I sensed a battle in progress.  I saw myself clinging tenaciously to my dreams of “peace” in this life, and knew I must let go.  Then I put in the Casting Crowns Peace on Earth cd God directed me to buy.  I didn’t anticipate Him answering my prayer so quickly, and yet as I listened to this cd for the first time, God responded to my cry through the words on the first track!!  He spoke volumes to me through I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day. And, in that hollow place in me that yearns for His transcendent peace, I heard the Christmas bells ringing loud and deep, and choirs of angels singing.  Christmas came inside me and I couldn’t keep the joy to myself.  I gathered my work bag and under the glow of Christmas lights atop the hospital where I work I walked inside with God and joined Him in spreading goodwill to men.

Merry Christmas, and please listen to Winter Snow and I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day and be blessed!!

Rest in the shadow, Terry

Communion Sunday

Little paper ghosts hang by threads in neighborhood trees
To life they spring in the autumn breeze.
So, too, my heart yearns to be animated by You
For Your life to enter me afresh
The wine Your blood, the bread Your flesh.
I sing from the depths, "You're not alone, You're home,"
Exploring what it means to be Yours and Yours alone.

You welcome me Home, my secrets told
My heart You hold.  Our life unfolds.
Home is You -- I'm entering in -- oh the bliss
Safe in Your arms, my peace Your kiss.


Pulling into my empty drive I gather a few supplies,
Communion tears still stream hot from my lovesick eyes.
Leaving for I know not where, anticipating time we'll share,
I watch as clouds roll in and love hangs heavy in the air.

I note the tips of roadside weeds have turned snowflake white.
Alone I drive in wait for You in the haunting quiet.
We park just outside a weathered Victorian gate.
The fence now leans in, giving way to time's weight.

Inside stately trees spread in reverence their graceful arms
As fall's wind strips them of their golden charms.
To Earth like manna they fall.
I am nourished.  It is lovely.  I'm in awe.

On a floor of floral lace, butterflies waltz their last dance
Meanwhile, You are here,
Flowers surrender their fragrance and we romance.

Startled by a rap on my window, my heart of a sudden afraid
A man gently reminds entrance to his property is forbade.
I know better than he perhaps, this is holy ground,
And assure I've not trespassed, then turn my car around.

I head for another place to tryst
My heart full yet still longing, for by God I've been kissed.
Oh what a love affair I might have missed
Had I opted loneliness to resist.

(Written Communion Sunday, October 2010, after church.  My soul longs for You, Lord!!)

Rest in the shadow, Terry

Signs In Our Path

“Show me the path where I should go, O Lord; point out the right road for me to walk.  Lead me; teach me; for You are the God who gives me salvation.  I have no hope except in You.”  Ps 25:5-6  “The Lord is good and glad to teach the proper path to all who go astray; He will teach the ways that are right and best to those who humbly turn to Him.”  Ps. 25:8-9

How do you respond to correction?  Do you think of it as one of God’s teaching tools?  Is correction one of your preferred methods of learning?  Are you able to receive and profit from correction given by a younger person?  How do you tend to respond to constructive criticism?  Are you able to view correction as a guidepost, or does your baggage hinder you from observing signs God has put in your path?

Assuming we want to follow God and learn the right way to think and conduct ourselves we must embrace correction.  I’m learning that becoming like a child involves welcoming correction from a variety of sources.  While I consider myself teachable, I admit I have room to grow and to heal in order to fully benefit from correction.  For this reason, I often pray while driving to work for grace to receive all God desires to teach me.  While praying this week, I pictured myself slipping into my desk at the front of the classroom, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to learn something new.  God did not disappoint.

At the tail-end of my second twelve hour shift, a physician took time to educate me in detail at the bedside.  First he determined what I knew then he corrected me and demonstrated the proper method of performing a procedure.  He taught not only what to do but the purpose for doing it a particular way.  He spoke frankly and prefaced repetition of his instructions with, “I am not patronizing you.”  His tone was gentle and firm and obviously he cared about his patient’s welfare and my nursing practice.

While he spoke my heart raced and my cheeks flushed.  I consciously forced myself to pay attention and ignore my feelings and fight or flight responses.  My perfectionist desires and hatred of appearing dumb were at work in me.  I realized both during and following this encounter that I had a choice to make.  I could listen to my own inner voice, the voice of the accuser, or God’s voice in the context of this physician correcting and instructing me.  I chose the latter and learned.

This week I solicited editorial help from trusted believers.  I requested feedback to posts and an opinion on the overall layout of this blog.  I received constructive input.  Thank you to those who wrote.  I also received compliments (nonetheless constructive) – my favorite feedback – I’m speaking honestly!!  I have come to understand that true effectiveness comes to those who seek God’s approval alone and trust Him to provide balance (correction) through supportive team members.  As a well-loved child, I choose to put down my baggage (people-pleasing tendencies) and heed the signposts God places on my path to keep me from straying to the right or the left.  

I believe God has called me to unashamed transparency.  Risky business!!  So, by faith I’m putting my heart out there with the hope His life will shine brightly through mine.  He enables me to take risks, to live an intensely vulnerable life with the understanding that I live in the shadow of His wing, lead, taught, protected, and supported by others abiding under the wing with me!!

“…Lord make my life transparent, Your life in mine displayed, and let every earthly glory go back to You.”  (You, Hillsong Live, A Beautiful Exchange)

Rest in the shadow, Terry

Abiding Love Surrounds Me

"You are my hiding place from every storm of life; You even keep me from getting into trouble!  You surround me with songs of victory.  I will instruct you (says the Lord) and guide you along the best pathway for your life; I will advise you and watch your progress.  Don't be like a senseless horse or mule that has to have a bit in its mouth to keep it in line!"

"Many sorrows come to the wicked, but abiding love surrounds those who trust in the Lord.  So rejoice in Him, all those who are His, and shout for joy, all those who try to obey Him."  Psalm 32: 7-11

Rest in the shadow, Terry

My Grandchild's Heart Has Begun to Beat!!

"You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body, and knit them together in my mother's womb.  Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!  It is amazing to think about."  Psalm 139:13-14

I have pictured the Lord at work with a pair of golden knitting needles.  The needles are moving swiftly, and yet precisely as He knits together a sweet little one in my daughter's womb.  At the same time I've pictured myself in the Lord's hands, wet clay in the shape of a crude pitcher.  He is presently working to fashion a spout to fit me for His use in pouring love into a new grandbaby!!

Thought you might like to join me in considering His artistry in the crafting of a human being made in His image.  A few details of what is occurring in the Lord's studio: 

Baby's Growth and Development at 5 Weeks Pregnant

After weeks of rapid cell development, your baby takes on a more distinct form. During the fifth week of pregnancy, here's what's happening inside:

• Her heart and circulatory system take shape — a bulge indicates where your baby's heart is developing. By the end of the 5^th week of pregnancy, your baby's earliest blood vessels form.
• Around the 5^th week of pregnancy, your baby's heart begins to beat and may be visible on an ultrasound.
• The umbilical cord replaces the yolk sac. The umbilical cord works with the placenta to bring nutrition and oxygen to your baby and remove waste.
• At 5 weeks pregnant, your baby is the length of the tip of a pen, about 1/17 inches, and growing rapidly every day.

Taken from:
http://similac.com/pregnancy/5-weeks-pregnant-baby-growth-development

GOD, YOU'RE AMAZING!!!!

Rest in the shadow, Terry

Putting Up a Spiritual Umbrella - Part 1

"You have been loving and kind to me and will be to my descendants."  Psalm 18:50b

I spent the majority of the day putting the house and to an extent my life in order from an external standpoint.  I laundered clothes and ironed my uniforms, washed and put away dishes, and paid bills.  I even managed to walk twenty minutes on the treadmill.  The wind howled objections throughout the busy day, and occasionally I glanced out the window at the leaves playing in the yard.  I did not however make time to sit in the sun even for a few minutes, or to leisurely walk out to the mailbox.  I had work to complete before allowing myself “free time.” 

The sun disappeared and as my bedroom grew darker marking the end of my last day off, I felt remotely sad.  Then I corrected myself and made an effort to move my heart toward gratitude for what I had enjoyed and accomplished while off.  Still, there lurked inside me a sense of restlessness, the drive to do still more before returning to work tomorrow.  I spent the time on the treadmill reading in Psalms, giving God my divided attention.  This stimulated me further as God spoke and ideas flowed continuously, causing me to fear I would forget every word.  I stepped off and headed to my room to jot a few notes.  I could not tune out feeling hurried and anxious and decided to take a bath and get dressed in the event I might join others for dinner.  Faithful Father spoke the words of Philippians 4:6-7 more than once as I bathed, inviting me to talk with Him.

While putting on my makeup, I clearly heard God say, “Be still.”  I knew He meant REALLY be still – slow my internal pace, breathing and heart rate, and calm myself in His presence.  He understood my desperate need to hear His voice.  He helped me to get quiet and turn my engine off.  I probably remained still in His embrace for fifteen minutes, but during that time on His lap, He went right to the heart of my restlessness, answered today’s questions, redirected and set me totally at ease.  His miracles never cease!!

He assured me He understands my excitement and desire to ready for welcoming the first grandchild into our family.   He has seen the wheels turning the past several days following my daughter’s announcement, and I feel sure He smiles.  Yesterday, while on a scouting mission with my daughter to find locations for a photo shoot, I found myself feeling protective not only of her, but of the child within her.  A couple of unruly dogs met us on the wooded trail and one jumped planting his paws on her belly, and I couldn’t help but gasp and immediately ask if she was alright.  She mentioned earlier having cramps and without forethought, I prayed for the preservation of this tiny new family member.  On learning she had gone to bed late and not eaten breakfast, advice tumbled out of my mouth concerning the importance of rest and a proper diet.  I caught myself thinking about helping her prepare a nursery, or cuddling and reading aloud to a little one again.  I even began to feel self-imposed pressure to set aside money for the purchase of savings bonds!!  

Among the props selected for her photo shoot were the teddy bears she and her brother loved the stuffing out of in their childhood.  We took them from the bookshelf in my room where they’ve waited patiently for years for tiny hands to once again hold them tightly as friends.  I struggled to share them with the family she was photographing, for the bears were on reserve for my grandchild.  The day my daughter told me the news, I headed to the store for a present to celebrate.  I refrained from buying anything yet for the baby, but as I quickly walked the aisles, I noted all the grandmothers shopping for Christmas presents.  I laughed.  First, because I am soon to join the ranks of beautiful white-haired dandelions delighting to share love and life with grandchildren, and second because I never knew grandmothers, like mothers, had a nesting instinct.  Even fathers must internally feel the need to get their act together in order to provide the best for their offspring.  In terms of a gift, I settled for pickles, miniature cartons of icecream, and flowers to express my congratulations and convey my joy to both my daughter and son-in-law.  …. SEE PART TWO FOR THE CONTINUATION OF THIS ARTICLE.

Rest in the shadow, Terry

Putting Up a Spiritual Umbrella - Part 2

"Our children too shall serve Him, for they shall hear from us about the wonders of the Lord; generations yet unborn shall hear of all the miracles He did for us."  Psalm 22:30

The burning questions in my mind as I bustled about the house included:  How do I prepare to welcome this precious human being into the world?  More importantly, how do I effectively express God’s love to him or her from this moment on?  How do I as an expectant grandmother begin to provide a spiritual covering?  The Lord answered these questions with a picture.  Earlier in the day I partially filled a hollow umbrella base with a sack of concrete.  One cupful at a time I poured in the dusty mixture through a small hole in the reservoir.  I had my son carry it outside for me and place it under the table where I intended to use the umbrella.  Then I added water until the base was full.  Finally, I put the support pole for the umbrella through the hole in the table and down into the stand.  My son suggested we raise the umbrella, but I felt it was too windy and wanted to give the concrete a chance to set up.  Around the pole in the center of the table I placed a decorative ring filled with citronella candles.  I remarked to my son that I didn’t want to leave the umbrella up considering the gusty conditions; I wanted it to still be around for tea parties and picnics with my new grandchild!! 

God replayed this scene complete with the conversation with my son.   Then He indicated I was to similarly prepare a spiritual umbrella, a covering, for my daughter and her family – to include my grandchild.  He stressed the importance of the sturdy base (foundation).  I sensed this meant to continue focusing on establishing myself firmly in Him, and in what matters to Him.  In doing so, greater stability crucial to countering winds of testing and adversity, will result.  This will bless my grandchild far more than anything material.  Adding water to the mix represents the Holy Spirit and my allowing Him to continually saturate and integrate my life until dust becomes Rock solid.  A united life will form the basis for and support of a substantial spiritual umbrella, one under which fellowship (even tea parties and picnics!) will be enjoyed.  Just as citronella candles repel insects and provide pleasing light, prayer that originates in intimacy will fend off the enemy and keep the light of truth central.  

Listening to my Savior settled and equipped me.  He reordered my priorities in minutes, and enabled me to rest in knowing that abiding is the real key to loving my family well.  My role is to depend on my Father, lose myself in Jesus, and choose a joy-filled life in the Spirit.  What a relief!! 

Hmm, now, what shall my grandmother name be??

Rest in the shadow, Terry