Do You Know What You Are Reaching For?

The geese are making noise. 

 A few trees have begun their colorful transformation.

The nights have cooled and we found ourselves wrapped in blankets yesterday.

A reminder that winter is fast approaching. 

Another fall. 

Another without my son. 

Our family still reels at the thought of life without Elijah. 

Every fiber of our being longs for his presence. 

Yet we press on. 

We step forward. 

We are seeking and reaching for the path God wants us to take. 

Each day I strive to live fully.
The unknowns rise before me; the tempest at large.
This morning I can feel the heaviness.
The weight of missing, great.
We hold hands around the dinner table and there is a space.
Cedric needs to reach to hold his fathers hand.
The place where Elijah sat; empty.

It is in the reaching that I am struck.
We are always reaching.
Reaching for better.
Striving to be the best we can be.
When a heavenly perspective is there, there is purpose.
His ways higher.
Unknown to us.
A path.
Direction.
Our reaching, is to seek Christ.
To know the fullness of Him.
I do not understand all that continues to transpire.
This world is spiraling at chaotic proportions.
The condition of man so evident in happenings around us.
Yet all of these situations have passed through the fingers of God.
We need to stay the course. 
Speak truth. 
Speak love.
Trust.
As we live; reach.
Reach for the Savior's plan.
Keep in the Ancient Word. 
Pray.
As you reach today; in all you do.
May the reach be for Christ.
He will guide all your steps.
You may not be able to see through.
But know, He is there.

Deuteronomy 31:6
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, 
for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

There Is Always Choice

The slide show plays. 

Each picture a memory of the week gone by. 

The gospel shared. 

Summer Bible Camp. 

Not Vacation Bible School anymore. 

Somehow "school" has a negative connotation. 

Kids in other countries look for sponsors and live to go to school. 

But here in America school brings negative thoughts. 

But that is another post. 

The slide show plays. 

I have not helped at all this week. 

There were so many pieces to the week, there was no way I could be there. 

I watch each picture. 

The sadness descends like an unwelcome visitor. 

Years of VBS. 

Weeks of time spent with kids flash through my mind.
Each year I feel exhausted heading into the week.. 

I have nothing left to give. But I do and I am blessed. 

God meets me in the midst of the chaos each time. 

Loading 5 kids in the car and getting there on time; such a struggle.
So worth the time.
And now another year has finished.
The slide show ends.
I sit.
These are the hard times. 
The memories are relentless.
The life of your child before you.
The course of events not the ones you choose.
And it's the choice. 
You can sit down and let it all consume you.
Or you can step into the path God has ordained for you.
It's a choice. 
The path before you.
You can listen to all the voices of this world.
You can buy into all the lies that will try to bring you joy.
Or you can rise up in the strength of the Lord.
Shake off all that binds you.
Seek the joy that is offered.
There is forgiveness.
Each day I choose.
I wake up.
The reminder that Elijah is gone slams me time and time again.
But I stop.
I rejoice in the day that the Lord has made.
There is a purpose.
I quiet the voices that try to tell me otherwise.
We are the hands and feet of Christ.
There is work to be done.
We each were created.
By the Master.
Fiercely loved.
Bought with a price.
Elijah's death points to Christ.
There is a purpose.
There is a choice. 
We are to be changed as Elijah was changed in a moment.
In an instant.
We can love more.
We can stand for truth.
Seek holiness.
Make a difference in this world.
One day soon, we will all be reunited.

2 Timothy 1:7
For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, 
love and self-discipline.

Holding On To Hope

The sun peaks through the clouds.

The air warm.

Such a contrast to the winter's relentless icy blast. 

The sounds of Spring cut through the morning stillness.

It is in these moments, each morning, that the strength for the day is nurtured. 

Dormant bulbs burst with the day's warmth. 

The gentle submission to the Father's will. 

The desire to seek obedience over sacrifice. 

We earn nothing. 

It is given. 

Freely. 

Ransom paid long ago for our souls. 

To be. 

To live. 

To have eyes to see the beauty when much has been wiped away. 

Each tender step; held.

Holding on to hope.

There's a gentle breeze and if you're still enough, it pours over the holiness meant just for the day. 

I Peter 5:7

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

The journey to the cross each day is not easy. 

He never said it would be. 

Through the pressing schedules and the demands of the day I will seek to let the breezes wash over me. 

My anxiety before Him. 

My steps ordered according to His will. 

My sight is limited. Bound by the shackles of this earth. 

The day is coming when those shackles will be loosed. 

And Glory will touch the earth. 

The day is before us. 

How will we impact our world? 

In what direction will be chose to walk today? 

Be thou my vision, oh Lord of my heart. 

Enjoy this link of a sweet sister in the Lord as she ministers musically with all that is within her.

Lori Jean Smith, Be Thou My Vision

Just Another Day

3 bags gone. 

2 of clutter 1 of trash. 

The girls were troopers. 

It was their room after all. 

They stayed with Sue. 

I stayed away. 

I balanced the check book. Folded 2 loads of laundry. 

Made a cake for death by chocolate. 

But forgot to turn the oven on. 

Ooops. 

Our friends were here from Florida so they brought lunch over. 

We sat in the sunshine and ate. 

It was so good to see them. 

It was so good to be in the sun. 

We talked about books on tape. And then of course we talked about music. 

Because that was how most of our time was spent together. 

Years of Road Crew events. 

She mentions Elvis and some of his older music. 

I know what I need to do. 

I head up the stairs. 

I turn into his room. 

Is it still his room? 

These are things that run through my head. 

It probably always will.

We still call the little girls room Debbie's room. 

So I find the Elvis cd's. There's also a dvd that had never been opened. 

I am happy to send these along. They are just gathering dust in his room. 

Someone will enjoy his music. 

Oh how he loved Elvis. 

Like his Grandfather and Uncle. 

He would sing at the top of his lungs. 

He voice rich and clear. 

He knew every word. 

He was like that. He knew all the lyrics to songs. 

He liked all kinds of music. 

His loss weighs heavy on my soul. 

It's a deep ache. It is my companion day and night. 

One I need to learn to live with. 

Our friends leave. 

The farm has been hopping today with visitors. 

There is not much time to be still. 

The demands of the day race before me. 

There are pick ups from the High School and dinner. 

Crisis cleaning for small group. 

There is another knock on the door. 

There stands one I have seen before; but don't know well. 

He says I've brought you dinner. 

He's a friend of the family. 

He too has sat around this farm house table feasting on food and nurture for the soul. 

It's probably been 35 years since those days; but to all who enter here, it was yesterday. 

The memories of this place are strong. 

I long to keep them alive. 

A place where all are welcome. 

Where Christ sits at the head of the table. 

A message of hope for all to hear. 

A refuge for the weary. 

Romans 10:17

Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message,

 and the message is heard through the word about Christ.

But buried deep beneath 

All our broken dreams we have this hope;

Out of these ashes. . .beauty will rise

and we will dance among the ruins

We will see Him with our own eyes. . . 

For we know joy is coming in the morning.