Deep Water

Put the boat into deep water, and put your nets in the water to catch some fish.

I’ve worked hard all night to catch some fish. I did my level best. The rowing was hard, and slinging those heavy nets wasn’t easy either, but I cast and cast all night long without success. I moved my boat to different spots that other fishermen recommended and tried again. Nothing. Still, I kept fishing.

The sky grayed and the stars began to fade. So I threw the nets harder, farther, and dragged them in as fast as I could, again and again, ignoring the ache in my back and shoulders. Every single time, they came up empty. The last star winked out.

My miracle never came.

I’ve packed it in. My nets are washed.

Fishing time is over and the sun is high in the sky. If nothing was there when the conditions were prime, how can I have faith of anything being there now? But you say to put the nets in the water, so I will.

When the fishermen did what Jesus told them, they caught so many fish the nets began to break.

Luke 5:1-8

Blessings

I have been to that place. That hard place, the devastating situation and found myself asking, “Is there any good in this?”

Yesterday my son shared a song with me. The message of the lyrics are that the answers we receive to our prayers don’t always take the form we want them to, but we are blessed even through the hard places. I want the easy solution, the immediate healing, the comfortable way. No one wants to suffer. No mother wants to watch her child suffer.

Hard places make us grow. My flesh resists this concept, but it’s true. It is not an easy thing to stand in faith when faith is all you have.

If we had not traveled the difficult path that was destined, we would not be where we are today. I try to remember that saying, ‘You have to go through some stuff to get to where you are going.’

My son told me that he felt that our trying experiences had been a blessing to him. He said, “It makes me know what’s real, what's important.”

In the evening, when we gather together, my children and I, my sons pray for me. They pray for their father, and their siblings, for each other. I am still and listen to the voices of these men of God. Mighty men of God who live in my house.

My blessing.

Laura Story - Blessings.mp3

Math Problem

I grew up on
Schoolhouse Rock
singing Lucky Seven
and Naughty Number Nine.
I know numbers and all their tricks.
But Seventy times Seven always trips
me
up.

Matthew 18:22

Extravagant Love

Both days and nights are filled with medical demands. And the costs! Tremendous. People wonder, in their lesser moments, why someone would seek out such a child. Eyes that see nothing, hands that only grasp. Doctors tell her he will not live long, tell her how defective he is.

She holds him in her arms, draws the small head to her face, and kisses his tender cheek. This is the child she moved mountains for. He is not of her womb, but was chosen because of his great need.

When I look at her face, I see Jesus.

And He took the children in His arms, put His hands on them and blessed them. Mark 10:16 NIV
　
　
　
Please pray for families that choose to adopt those with special needs.

How to go Fishing with Jesus

1. Get in the boat.
2. Row.
3. Cast your net.
4. Pull the net in.
5. Keep all the fish.

Captured

 

verse one

I don't understand Your faithfulness

What do You see in me?

I'm no one of significance

Your love's a mystery

I don't know why You chose me

But I'm glad You did

Just because You love me

You died

So I might live

 

chorus

I am covered by Your holiness

Adorned with purity

I am a new creation

Your love has captured me

 

verse two

You tell me I'm accepted

Completely reconciled

Though I've nothing but myself to give

With me You're satisfied

I don't know why You chose me

But I'm glad You did

Just because You love me

You died

So I could live

 

chorus

I am covered by Your holiness

Adorned with purity

I am a new creation

Your love has captured me

 

verse three

Your devotion is amazing

My own sweet faithful friend

Why did You want to bless me

With love that never ends

I don't know why You chose me

But I'm glad You did

Just because You love me

You died

So now I live

 

end

I am covered by Your holiness

Adorned with purity

I am a new creation

Your love has captured me

 

When You look my way

Your beloved

Is who You see

 

Amazing Love

You've captured me

Shades of Grace

sunday morning
sunday evening
and
wednesday night

a small Bible
with
a picture of Jesus
holding a lamb

a flowered easter dress
with
a square neck
trimmed in lace

hands washing dishes
and
folding stacks of clean clothes
while she sang

verses one
two
and
four

I Follow This Path

I follow this path
because I am His

I do not choose
how or
when or
who

I choose yes or no
stay or go

I do not choose to
sing or dance
walk
run or crawl
pray
on my knees or
scrub the floor

I only choose yes or no

When I hear Him singing my name
it's easy
to say yes

He is the air I breathe

I follow this path
Because He is mine.

John 10

Jonah 2

 

 

While Jonah was inside the fish, he prayed to the Lord his God and said . . .

 

This struck me today. While he was inside the fish, Jonah thanked God for rescuing him from drowning. I imagine a dark, dank, extremely frightening, smelly place, slick with slimy digestive juices, and ponder. While Jonah was inside the fish, he prayed to the Lord his God.

 

But I will praise You and thank You while I give sacrifices to you and I will keep my promises to You. Salvation comes from the Lord.

 

Then the Lord spoke to the fish, and the fish threw up Jonah onto dry land.

 

And I thought I knew the story of Jonah and the Whale.

Send the Rain

My herbs have been neglected. They are in large pots on the front porch, but it's so easy to walk by them everyday without really seeing. One day I noticed that my dill had all shriveled up. I pulled up the little plants and rubbed the dry stalks over the pot of soil. Then I stirred it up with a twig and gave it a bit of water. A green thumb is something I lack, but I thought maybe something would sprout.

I watered the pot for a few days, but nothing happened. Things are busy around here, and after about two weeks with no results I let myself forget all about it again.

It's been raining. Tender green blades are poking up.

My prayer today is that God would water the areas in my life I have so long neglected. There are places I have planted good seeds, then became distracted and weary of tending them. I pray for the Master Gardener to impart life, for resurrection in the dry places.

Send the rain.

Hands

She stood waiting for Him. When He came near she noticed how unflinching his gaze was.

"Let me see your hands," He said.

Her eyes widened.

"My hands?"

"Yes."

Slowly she held out her hands. He took hers in His and scrutinized them.

"Your hands look dirty," He said.

A blush crept up her neck.

"I cannot get the stains out. It's from working in the garden," she explained.

He nodded.

He continued to look closely her hands.

He indicated a partially healed mark.

"What happened here?"

" The burn?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I was cooking and touched a hot pan."

"And the scar?"

She thought it was such a tiny scar that no one would notice, but He did.

"I was washing windows and one broke."

"Why are your hands wet?" He asked.

"A little boy fell over there," she gestured, "just a moment ago. I was waiting for You and had nothing else to wipe his tears with, so I used my hands."

"The garden," He said, "Was it my garden you were working in?"

"Why, yes Lord, it was," she said.

"Were you cooking for My servant when you burnt your hand?"

"Yes Lord," she said, remembering that she had been.

"This scar," He held up her hand, "Were you washing windows in the house built for those who come to hear of Me?"

She nodded.

"And these tears here in your palm, are they the tears of one of My lambs?"

"Yes Lord," she whispered.

"Beloved," He said to her, "You have the most beautiful hands."

My Quilt

For the last two days I have been attempting to machine quilt. As I was wrestling this monster, trying to shove the fabric under the needle, I thought, "If I had died no one would have finished this thing." I have a strong suspicion it would have ended up in a box at a yard sale, one of those ghastly unfinished projects tucked away among more useful items like rusty scissors and empty thread spools.

I started this project in February 2007. I needed something distracting and mindless to do, so I delved into my scrap fabric and started cutting quilt squares. I noticed I tend to buy lots of floral patterned material. I almost never buy solids. After a time all the little squares were neatly tucked away into a ziploc bag and buried in one of my big plastic tubs awaiting crafterly inspiration.

You know, once you have spent hour upon hour working on something you have to keep going even if you have no clue what it is. I think it was last summer when I pulled out the squares and started laying them out. From past experience with busy floral scraps I surmised that a few solids may help out and had accordingly cut some dark blue and beige squares. They were almost solid. You could barely see the pattern on them. It was very muted.

The kids helped me lay out a pattern that didn't clash too badly, keeping in mind that most of the time a quilt is in use you have your eyes closed anyway. It got bigger and bigger. We had to go to buy more of that sort-of-solid muted fabric. I decided that once it covered the space available on the living room floor it was big enough. There were challenges. I think this is much easier if you start with directions. Of course I did not have directions. This was a scrap quilt.

In constructing the quilt top, some of the pieces didn't quite match up. They were all mostly square and about the same size. I worked with it. Once the quilt top was made we all admired it, and then I folded it up and put it back into the craft tub until I could get batting.

It wasn't long before I went to the store and got the required batting and dug around in one of my boxes for sheeting for the back of the quilt. I was pumped from getting the top part done. But by the time I got out the folding table, cut the backing, unrolled the batting and coaxed the three independent layers together so I could pin the whole thing together I was tired. I would have stuffed it back into the craft tub, but it was too big now. So there it sat neatly folded in a corner of my bedroom until last week.

It's another summer and I decided to work on the quilt. I think I've gotten the hang of machine quilting it. The first third will need to be unpicked and restitched. All those squares are leaning against each other, this way and that. Kind of reminds me of an old rickety wooden fence about to fall down. I'll straighten them up. I'm getting there.

Projects like these give you time to philosophize. Quilting won't be rushed. It's good to think deep thoughts to keep yourself from muttering words you don't want your kids to hear you say.

A quilt is kind of like life. Bits from here and there, some scraps on hand, some you have to purpose to aquire. A little planning and a lot of improvisation. All the squares don't match up exactly right, but as a whole, with a little adjusting it all makes one big piece. Often parts have to be undone and redone. It never quite comes out exactly the way you originally envisioned.

When all is done it will serve its purpose, keeping someone I love warm and snug underneath a messy riot of mismatched memories. Some people will think this is one awful ugly quilt. Some will think it is ok. Some will think it is beautiful.

Yesterday I was getting frustrated. I thought,"God did not keep me alive to finish this quilt."

Now I'm thinking . . .

Maybe He did.

Matthew 7:1

If I could only use one word to describe her, it would be . . . gracious. She was very gracious when she thanked me for the meager offering. I had bought lunch; burgers and sodas. I think she might be diabetic because she asked for a diet drink and specified no ketchup. We did not exchange many words.

She collects porcelain dolls. It looked like most everything else was gone, but she had held onto her babies. When I said goodbye she was setting them out on a blanket covered hood of a car that had seen better days. It pained her to part with them---but as she said, "What can you do?"

There were two of them, husband and wife. Even though they were disheveled and dirty, they hadn't been on the road long. You could tell. They thought they were desperate, but they weren't quite on that edgy precipice just yet.

I do not know their story, where they came from, or how they came to be in this place. But there are some things I do know.

Every person is made in the image of God and as a unique creation of the Most High are worthy of respect.

If I am completely yielded to the Holy Spirit I need not justify my actions--or lack of them.

While I am to practice discernment, it is God's place--not mine, to judge or condemn.

Anyone.