tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41171086790909276882024-02-20T23:02:31.235-06:00The Heart and Mind of a WomanTravel with me through life and through the Word of God. I seek truth and appreciate humor wherever I can find it. Just as God's mercies are new every day, His Word is alive and active and penetrates my soul on a daily basis. It's not always easy, and it's not always fun, but it is definitely worth the journey.Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.comBlogger380125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-72376335015521470092014-05-12T04:45:00.000-05:002014-05-12T04:45:00.586-05:00Erin's Top 10 in a Future Husband<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I was a
sophomore in high school, I was challenged to write down a list of traits and
characteristics I wanted in my future husband. I was told to be specific and to
pray specifically. My daughter is in a Christian school, and this last semester
in her 7<sup>th</sup> grade Bible class they covered LSD – Love, Sex and
Dating. Their project was to come up with a top 10 list for their future
husband. It was understood that they would be praying for a growing Christian
who attended church, so that could not be one of the top ten. I asked Erin if I
could share hers. I’ve also made a copy and my mom has a copy to pull out an
engagement party or rehearsal dinner. There are things in her list that make me
laugh, and there are things on her list that show me that my daughter REALLY knows
who she is, and there are things on her list that show me where we need some
work. All in all, I think Erin did a great job for a 7<sup>th</sup> grader.
Enjoy, Erin’s top 10 list:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1. He needs to be pure. If I wait
until marriage and I have to go through the hard times of waiting I want to
have a husband who waited also, so it will be special on our wedding night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">2. He needs to have a good
personality. He needs to be quiet, and patient and willing to listen to my
crazy ideas and not think I’m losing it. Also he needs to be calm because I am
sort of dramatic. Another thing is he will probably need to know how to put up
with my stubbornness. </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For those who don’t know my sweet Erin, she is quite gregarious,
loquacious and funny.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3. He needs to be a good provider and
a hard worker. I want to be a stay at home mom, so he will need to be a good
provider so we can all eat. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4. I would like a husband who is
affectionate. If I’m sad he will hold me and tell me it is okay, and he won’t
make fun of me, if I can’t do something.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">5. He should be able to cook. I can’t
cook so if he doesn’t want us to live off of fast food and take out it will be
good if he can cook. He should be able to cook on a stove, microwave, oven, and
grill. </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">This is where
we have some work to do.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6. He needs to be protective but not
overly protective. Like if someone is saying something mean to me, I would like
him to stand up to that person. I would not like him to always ask me where I’m
going, like I don’t want him to hang out with me and my friends all the time.
He’ll be able to hang out with his friends without me always questioning him,
same goes with me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">7. I would like my future husband to
love kids. I want to be a mom so my husband will need to like kids, because if
he doesn’t like kids he won’t want any.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">8. I would like him to be handsome.
He will be 5’9, so he will be taller than me but not too tall where I can’t
kiss him when we get married. He will not </span>be</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> really skinny but not
fat, he will be in the middle. He will have dirty brown hair, and either hazel
eyes or blue eye, but if he has blue eyes they have to be as blue as the sky,
sky blue eyes. Also he has to have hair that he can flip out of his eyes, but
not the Justin Beiber flip; I don’t really like Justin Beiber. He can’t have
big feet, but he can’t have small feet either, they have to be just right.
Another thing is he has to have perfect hands. They have to fit into mine
perfectly. He can’t have sweaty feet or hands, they need to be non sweaty. I
think that’s it. </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">This
one made me laugh, but I thought the perfect hands to fit into hers was very
sweet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">9. I would like him to be educated. I
would like him to have a high school degree and a college degree. These are
really important to me because I would like him to be smart and get a good job
that he got with his college degree.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I would really like it if he could sing, it’s not that big of a deal but
it would be nice. So when I’m scared or I’ve had a bad day he could hold me and
sing to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Erin and I had talked about these things previously, but I
didn’t make her write them down because she isn’t close to dating. She knows
that dating means you are looking for the man God has for you to marry and that’s
why dating really isn’t appropriate at an early age. We’ve talked about
boundaries and respect. Recently, one of her friends who’s a boy told her that
he was atheist. She asked me what I thought about that. I told her we are to be
the salt and light. We aren’t here to judge and condemn but point others to
Christ. The boy told her he didn’t want her to try to convert him. She told him
it wasn’t her job, but she did point out some errors in his thinking about God’s
Word. The way she handled it opened up further dialogue and now he is
interested in coming to church with her. When she and I were talking about
this, I asked Erin, “Is this someone you would date?” She thought for a moment,
and she said, “No, ma’am. I couldn’t.” She said, “You marry someone you date,
and the Bible says that I should not be unequally yoked with a nonbeliever in
marriage.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s not just one conversation that helps shape a child and
their beliefs. It’s many conversations. It’s conversations from different
people. Pray for the people who are influencing your children. Pray for your
kids as they begin to make choices that affect their future. Teach them God’s
principles, bind them to their hearts. I’m not done with her. I’m not done
having conversations and listening to her, and if you are someone who is a
godly influence to my daughter or my son, I thank you from the bottom of my
heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-5089206504659216712014-04-01T20:42:00.000-05:002014-04-01T20:42:00.066-05:00A Story of Shame and Grace. My Soul Knows It Well.
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There’s a verse that haunts me. It has haunted me since I
first read it. It haunts me because it has never jumped out at me until I
started studying the events leading up to the crucifixion. It’s a verse that
overwhelms me at times because out of everyone in the Bible I most relate to
this one…Peter. Peter was impetuous. He was a leader. He was passionate and
eager. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did you ever notice that no one
else had courage to get out of the boat or even ask about getting out of the
boat during the storm? Just sayin’. <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Peter was an all-in kind of guy. In Luke 22:31-32, Jesus
tells Peter that Satan has asked to sift Peter. Jesus tells Peter without
telling Peter straight out that Satan is going to try him, and Jesus wanted
Peter to know that He had prayed for him. “But I have prayed for you, Simon
that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your
brothers.” Oh my word, Jesus calls him <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">SIMON.
Did you catch that? </i>Simon is the name used before Peter affirmed who Jesus
was. I wonder if Peter caught that. I wonder if Peter thought it odd that Jesus
would call him <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Simon</i> after all this
time of being called Peter, or he may not have thought a thing about it until
retrospect. Jesus knew that Simon Peter would turn his back, but He also knew
that Peter would return to him. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did you
catch that? </i>“And <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">when</i> you have
turned back…” I’m sure Peter had to be confused a little, but I know he had to
have played those words back to himself over and over again once things
settled. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s Peter’s response that shows his heart, his intent,
“Lord, I’m ready to go with you to prison and to death” (33). Jesus then tells
Peter that he will deny knowing Jesus three times before the rooster crows.
What turmoil and internal struggle Peter had to be enduring, but it’s just the
beginning. It’s just the beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jesus takes the disciples to the Mount of Olives to pray. He
then takes Peter, James and John further in and asks them to pray. Jesus tells
them to pray so that they won’t fall into temptation. Peter needed this time of
prayer. He did. He really needed it, but instead he fell asleep. When Jesus
woke them, Jesus had been praying so fervently that he had drops of blood on
his face. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Think for a moment. If your
child came and woke you in the middle of the night with blood all over their
face, what would your initial response be? I would be freaking out without a
doubt.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As Jesus is telling them to get up and pray is when the mob
shows up with Judas, and the events start unfolding so quickly. Peter slices of
the high priest’s, servant’s ear smooth off. He is a man of action, impetuous
action. Jesus fixes Peter’s mistake. He takes the ear and reattaches it good as
new, and tells Peter to put his sword away. He tells Peter and those around him
that he could call 72,000 angels down if He so chose to do (Mt), but Jesus has
come to fulfill Scripture. So let it be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jesus is led away to the high priest’s palace in the middle
of the night to be interrogated. They tried to find false witnesses, but none
of their stories stuck. Meanwhile Peter is in the courtyard. Most likely within
earshot of Jesus, and I’ll show you why I think this in a minute. Jesus
remained silent which was an admission of guilt in this illegal Jewish court. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They spit in his face, hit Him with their
fists, slapped Him, and mocked Him. All during this time, a girl, then a woman
confronted Peter about his association with Jesus. Peter denied knowing Jesus. The
Sanhedrin voted that Jesus should be put to death because Jesus said He would
destroy the temple and raise it up in three days, but the Sanhedrin lacked the
authority to put anyone to death. Peter is confronted for the third and final
time, and Peter denies Jesus. And here is the verse that haunts me. After Jesus
has endured the initial mocking and beating and being humiliated, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And
Peter recalled the Lord’s words” </i>(Luke 22:61). The rooster crows as Peter
denies for the third time, and Jesus made eye contact with Peter. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had
spoken to him. </i>I can so feel the weight of that moment. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is no wonder that Peter wept bitterly and sorrowfully (Lk
22:62). <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m just telling you I would be
bawling uncontrollably. You know that ugly, guttural cry with snot going
everywhere. </i>It’s one thing to do something and not get caught or even to
get caught afterwards, but to see the look on Jesus’ face just at the moment
when you have failed Him the most. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I just
wonder what was the look on Jesus’ face. </i>There’s no look that would have
made Peter felt any better or any worse.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We really don’t hear much more from Peter or see him in
Scripture until after the Passover meal when Jesus has been placed in the tomb,
and the believers have come together to grieve. The women go to put spices at
the tomb and encounter the angels. The women return and told the eleven and the
others what they saw. Most didn’t believe them, but Peter, he got up and ran.
He ran to the grave. He saw the empty tomb. He saw the strips of linen. What he
didn’t see was the body of Christ. Luke 24:12, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">…he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And when you have returned…</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>John 21: 1-14 shows the disciples have returned to their old way of life
– fishing. It’s what they knew. It’s what they were comfortable doing. But
Jesus wasn’t done with them, and Jesus knew that in order for them to become
the New Testament church that Peter needed to be restored. Jesus gives Peter
the same number of opportunities to acknowledge his love for Jesus as the
number of times Peter denied Jesus. How healing that must have been for Peter.
I hope it removed his shame. I think it had to have. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is truly a story of grace. It’s a story that I need.
It’s the story my heart craves.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-83826764229875744912014-02-05T01:00:00.000-06:002014-02-05T01:00:11.263-06:00In the Adultresses Sandals
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">LESSONS LEARNED
BY WALKING IN THE ADULTRESS’S SANDALS:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The adulterous woman’s story can be
found in John 8. This first sentence is peculiar because it finishes the story
from chapter 7. It says the Pharisees went to their homes and Jesus went to the
Mount of Olives. It reminded me of Matthew 8:20, “And Jesus replied to him,
Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have lodging places, but the Son of
Man has nowhere to lay His head.” He went to the Mount of Olives because Jesus
had no home, no place to lay his head, and none of the Pharisees had offered
him lodging.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then the Bible says that Jesus
appeared or went at dawn in the Temple courts and sat down to teach. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">When does He teach you? When do you sit down
with Jesus and listen?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>While Jesus is teaching the
Pharisees and the teachers of the Law brought a woman who they caught in the
act of adultery. First of all, did they catch her in the act because that was
the kind of woman she was or did they catch her because they set a trap for
her? Second, these men were breaking the law because they failed to bring the
adulterer with them. Leviticus 20:10 and Deuteronomy 22:22 says both the woman
and the man, the adulterer and adulterous should be put to death. It takes two
to commit adultery, so why leave the man out of this equation? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The teachers of the Law and
Pharisees made the woman stand in the middle while they openly exposed her sin
to everyone who was around. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I noticed
they didn’t openly discuss their own sins or short-comings. </i>It is so easy
to point out the sins and short-comings of others, judge them and their sins
being worse than our own making us feel superior, but when it comes to facing
our own sins and confessing them that’s a different animal altogether, isn’t
it?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These men like the one in her bed
were using her. The question the Pharisees posed regarding her sin was a trap
for Jesus. They didn’t need her to be present to ask Jesus about adultery, but
don’t you think they used her presence to try to manipulate Jesus or make the
weight of their questions feel more real?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After they asked the question, Jesus
knelt and began writing in the dirt. These men were relentlessly asking Jesus
what should be done. Keep in mind, she’s standing, and Jesus was kneeling. I’ve
often wondered what He wrote. Personally, I think it would be great if Jesus
was writing their sins down in the dirt at their feet, but that’s the fleshly
side of me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jesus’s response is, “Let him who is without sin among you be
the first to throw a stone at her.” I love this. It’s so clever. Matthew 7:3-5
says that we should take the log out of own eye before removing the splinter
from someone else’s. Jesus said it before, and now He’s teaching it again.
These Pharisees and teachers failed to realize is that Jesus came to fulfill
the Law. He taught them that it was more important to exercise forgiveness and
grace and mercy than to think yourself better than you aught. Now let’s bring
that home. Sunday faces, church gossip groups (prayer groups), judging those who
come to church and aren’t as perfect as yourself…yep, that’s how it. Her sin of
adultery put Jesus on the cross just as the same as your sin of gluttony,
gossiping, pride, anger, etc. You are no better. For we have all sinned and
come short of the glory of God, Romans 3:23. Do you want all your dirty laundry
displayed for others to see? Because I assure you, others know what you think
your hiding. They know your sins too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another caveat to this situation is
that in Matthew 5:27, Jesus said that if you look and covet another man’s wife
you have committed adultery. Your thought life can be just as convicting as
doing the act, and you know that at least one of these men had to have thought
about having sex outside his marriage. Yes, that’s an assumption on my part,
but I think it’s pretty safe to say. I’ve found that those who bark the loudest
often have the most to hide…just sayin’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So whiile these men are
contemplating how to respond to Jesus, he stoops again to write in the dirt.
This body language is intriguing to me. Truthfully, Jesus had full authority to
stand up and ask each one of those men to their face about their sins. Even if
Jesus had remained standing and looking into their faces as they pondered his
statement, it could be considered as confrontational. Instead, by squatting
with his face downward, He took a passive approach but shamed them just as
effectively. Sometimes the most effective way of winning an argument isn’t by
using a two by four to the head. Sometimes it’s simply being quiet as they
figure it out in their own heads.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Slowly the men start to leave starting with the oldest. Why
the oldest? Is it because they were wiser or was it because they had more time
in life to accrue more sin? Either way, eventually all of her accusers leave,
and she’s still standing in the same place where she had been forced by her
accusers to stand. She’s standing. Jesus kneeling. What had to be going through
her mind? This whole thing took place without her saying two words. This whole
thing took place without her having the opportunity to say or defend herself,
not that she would have much of a defense since they caught her in the act. But
here she is with this man named Jesus who forced her accusers to leave by the
words he said. Her life that she should have lost under the Law was found in
the form of grace, mercy and forgiveness in Jesus Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus stands and speaks to the
woman. His actions here are not confrontational either nor are his words. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Woman, where are your accusers? Has no man
condemned you?</i> John 8:10. “Woman” is a term with tenderness. He called his
mother “woman” when she asked him to turn the water to wine as his first
miracle. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Woman, where are your accusers?</i>
A rhetorical question asked to make her look and think. They both knew what had
happened. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Has no man condemned you?</i>
This is so not how she saw things ending. You realize that, don’t you? Women in
her sandals were stoned, and yet, here she stood without anyone to condemn her
of a sin that she had committed. Jesus told her, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Neither do I condemn you. </i>In John 3:17, it says he didn’t come to
condemn the world, but that through him the world might be saved. Jesus didn’t
condemn her because he had sinned like those Pharisees that had to leave. He
didn’t condemn her because that was not his role, his purpose for coming to the
world. He told her to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Go.</i> Move out of
the place where you were condemned. Step out of the place where you should have
been condemned to death and change. He wanted her to live a life without sin
because he knew the consequences for sin. She knew what the consequence of her
sin should’ve been. It should’ve been death. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">For the wages of sin is death </i>Romans 6:23. The consequence for sin
is death and separation from God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She went from a promiscuous behavior and bad choices to being
forgiven; from being used to being redeemed; from having a death sentence to
have a restored life; from being exposed to being covered with grace and mercy;
from being defenseless to being defended in the name of love. She met the
Savior, and I can’t help but think her life was never the same.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For we all have sinned and come
short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). We have all been condemned to death
for our sins. There is none righteous, no, not one (Romans 3:10).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have all worn her sandals. What do you do
after you have been the recipient of grace, found forgiveness, been allowed to
exchange death for eternal life? What have you done with that good news? Are
you sharing it? Are you hiding it because you are too prideful and don’t want
to admit you were a sinner and needed saving? What are you doing with Jesus
Christ? Has your life been transformed? Mine has, a life transformed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-50531016007723417082014-02-04T00:57:00.000-06:002014-02-04T00:57:00.194-06:00In Her Sandals -- She Meets Jesus and He's Drawing in the Dirt
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This man they are calling Jesus tells them that whoever is
without sin is to cast the first stone. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I
knew it. I knew I was going to die for it. Wait. What did he say? </i>As I
stand there, one by one the men begin to leave beginning with the oldest. I’m
not sure if that is because they are wise or if it’s because they have accrued
more sin. It doesn’t really matter. In the matter of a minute or so but what
seemed like forever, all of my accusers had left. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was awkward. Jesus stayed kneeling and drawing on the
ground. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Do I stay? Do I go? Do I say
thank you?</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What does he want from me?
What does he want in return? What is he expecting as his payment? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>I wait. He stands up and looks me in the
eyes…nowhere else, just in my eyes. I look into his face, and then he says,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Woman, where are they? Has no one
condemned you?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was the first time anyone had spoken to me since this
whole thing started, and he was being nice to me. I search for my voice. As I
speak my voice is shaky. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No one, sir. </i>I
wait for the other sandal to drop. There has to be something horrible coming
because I deserve it. I hold my breath. If he hits me, I’m not going to cry.
I’m not going to cry. My chest is heaving and heavy. My jaw is clinched. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Then neither do I condemn you. Go now
and leave your life of sin, </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Jesus said. Wait, what? He doesn’t condemn me either. I am so
confused. He tells me to get out of that sinful way of living. So, what do I
do? He smiles at me and moves on to speak to another group of people.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I leave the temple that day in complete amazement. I was
condemned to die. I mean it’s laid out in the law. They caught me in the act of
having sex with a married man. I was dead when they caught me. No one would
listen to me. No one cared that I barely had any clothes on. No one cared that
the man that had been my lover just slipped out unnoticed. They only wanted to
make sure they had me. Grabbing me by my hair and arms, forcing me to go where
I didn’t want to go, exposing me and my sin for everyone to hear, I really
don’t think I could’ve gotten much lower. At one point I remember wishing that
they would just stone me and get it over with. Then Jesus. That’s his name.
Jesus. I’m not sure why they took me to see him to get his opinion, but I am so
thankful they did. Not once did he call me those horrible names. Not once did
Jesus use me or make me feel like I was dirt for the choices I had made. Not
once. He looked me in the face. His eyes didn’t wander all over my body like I
was a piece of meat. He saw me. He gave me something that I don’t know that
I’ve ever been given before – grace. He spoke to me lovingly. He didn’t condone
what I had done, but he also didn’t condemn me. All he asks of me is to leave
that way of life. He didn’t want anything from me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was condemned to die, but he gave me life. I owe him my
life. The least I can do is leave the way of life that caused him to have to
save my sorry self. I can do it. I can.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I return home much to the amazement of my neighbors and
family, and I tell them some of what had happened, and I tell them about Jesus.
It’s the sweetest name I know.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-36518878590014474452014-02-03T12:55:00.001-06:002014-02-03T12:55:08.193-06:00In Her Sandals
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are some days you just want to crawl right back into
bed, but that really isn’t an option nor a wise choice for me today. It’s
already been an exhausting day, and it’s not even noon yet. As a matter of
fact, my day started when men burst into my home and yanked me out of my bed
not even allowing me to get completely dressed. I was shocked like anyone would
be and then fear set in. These men were going to have me killed. I began
begging and pleading with them, but no one was listening. I tried to explain
about the man in my bed, but no one wanted to hear what I had to say. They just
left him in my bed which is why going back to bed would not be a wise choice
for me today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve never claimed to be a good girl. I’m a girl who gets by.
I’ve made more than a few bad decision several times in my life, this morning being one of
them, or maybe I should say last night was a bad decision.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I quickly realize these men aren’t interested in anything I
might have to say. My fate is sealed. I know enough to know that they are going
to kill me, have me stoned, and it’s not even noon yet. Have I said that
already!? Not that I have thought about how I would die, but if I did, this
certainly would be the way nor the reason.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They take me to the Temple where there’s a teacher speaking
to an audience. I’m having to walk quickly and trip over the cobblestone. I’m
breathing heavily and my hair falls into my face. These men who have me by the
arms just barge in and throw me into the middle of the teacher and his class and
tell me to stand there. They then begin telling this teacher what they caught
me doing. I am humiliated. I’m barely dressed and now they are exposing
everything. I have no dignity left. They ask this teacher what to do with me.
They say there’s Moses’s Law that says I should be stoned. This man they are
pressing for an answer is obviously a wise man. He kneels as if he’s thinking
about his words, and they keep badgering him. I try to cover what I can, but
there really isn’t much use. This man is near my feet and he’s drawing on the
ground. Finally, he rises. I brace myself for what is to come, for what I
deserve. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-59969689562414432702013-12-24T08:34:00.000-06:002013-12-24T08:34:00.185-06:00Last Post on Lessons Learned from Mary
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On the
eighth day, Jesus was circumcised. He had to fulfill the law from conception
forward. When Joseph and Mary took Jesus to the temple for the dedication and
Purification offering, they encountered two people, Simeon and Anna. Simeon
prophesied over Jesus noting that some will rise and fall and that Gentiles
will be enlightened. He blessed Mary and Joseph, and then looking at Mary said,
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a sword will pierce your own soul too. </i>Knowing
that Mary was a thinker, a contemplator, you know that she dwelled on his words
for some time. God may not have told her everything before she became pregnant,
but He did give her bits and pieces along the way to prepare her as best He
could. Sometimes, though, we don’t understand or see all the ways He has
prepared us until we look back on the journey because while Mary wasn’t pierced
with the sword as Jesus was, as His momma, you know she had to have felt it too
as she watched it happen. She also probably relived it in her nightmares. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hearing
Simeon’s words had to bring the momma bear out in Mary. How overwhelming it
must have felt at times knowing she was responsible for raising the Son of God,
protecting Him from those who wanted to harm him. Yes, she knew that God was
protecting Jesus as well, but there is this fierce, internal instinct mommas
have for their babies. They will fight to the death to protect them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then there
was Anna. She must have been a relief to Mary. The sheer joy and delight in
Anna’s face had to have been comforting. Anna doesn’t take the baby in her arms
like Simeon did, but rather, she brings people to Jesus who need redemption.
How many people have you brought to Jesus who need redemption?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote on Anna’s sandals prior to Mary’s.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Joseph and
Mary return to Bethlehem and move into a little house and start a life as a
married couple. It’s only now that Joseph and Mary consummate their marriage.
Excitement, nervousness – do you remember the first time you made love to your spouse?
All those emotions and feelings wrapped together in an act of love designed by
God. Joseph and Mary have already had to overcome so much, and waiting to be
together made it that much sweeter. You know that Mary had to recount every
little thing that Joseph had done for her and because of her and how he chose
to follow God and lead Mary. Sweetness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Life for
Mary and Joseph get into a routine. I love routine. There’s comfort in it. You
know what to expect. But routine doesn’t last forever. One night when Jesus is
almost two years old, Magi show up on Joseph and Mary’s doorstep bringing gifts
of gold, frankincense and myrrh. These Magi were Gentiles, educated Gentiles
who with all their learning and knowledge realized that salvation could come in
the form of a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes truth is
as simple as that. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t know
how far back in Mary’s memory she had stored Simeon’s prophesy about her baby,
but when the Magi arrive presenting gold (the gift for a king), frankincense (the
gift for deity), and myrrh (the oil for death), I wonder if Simeon’s words came
rushing back to her. Mary’s son was born with a death sentence hanging over his
head, but Jesus would not stay in the tomb. You can’t put God in a box and you
can’t put Jesus in a tomb and expect them to stay there. Hallelujah!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the
Magi leave and Joseph and Mary go to bed, Joseph has another dream. An angel of
the Lord tells Joseph to get Mary and the baby and get out of there
immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joseph wakes Mary, and they
have to throw some things together quickly and flee Bethlehem. Have you ever
thought about what you would grab if your house was on fire or if a tornado was
coming in your direction? What would you grab? It’s so quick. You know Mary
grabbed the gold, frankincense and myrrh. She grabbed Jesus’s clothes and
probably a few of his favorite toys. But they wouldn’t be able to take
everything. It’s just stuff anyway. They run and keep running until God tells
them to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At some
point in time, Joseph and Mary hear what Herod did to those poor babies. I
wonder if Mary thought she had escaped Simeon’s prophesy. I imagine she must
have been heartbroken for those mommas and babies, and she may have felt guilt.
She didn’t have time to tell them good-bye or ask them to come with Joseph and
Mary. As women we sometimes take on more guilt and blame than is ours to claim.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m glad I took
the time to study Mary. My heart feels for her. Being the mother of a young
boy, I see him do things, and I wonder what he’ll be when he grows up. I see
him spending time with his daddy learning how to hunt and fish and camp, and I
know that Jesus learned from Joseph about carpentry. I love watching my husband
show our son how to do a certain skill. He wraps his hands around our son’s and
moves his body in the motion needed to complete the task. They repeat this
scene until our son gets it and can do it on his own. How did Mary look at
Jesus and Joseph? How do you raise children after Jesus and not compare them to
the Son of God? Mary was up for it. She was chosen for it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What has God
chosen you to be? Are you following your husband’s leadership? Are you
meditating on God’s Word? Slipping on Mary’s shoes leads you to putting your
arms around Jesus, kissing his face, and following where God leads. Will you
wear Mary’s shoes?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-29953567894654876882013-12-23T00:30:00.000-06:002013-12-23T00:30:03.963-06:00In Her Sandals -- Lessons Learned from Mary
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Elizabeth is
in her last trimester, and Mary is in her first. Elizabeth has kept to herself
mostly, and we don’t know if Mary has told anyone about her pregnancy either.
Elizabeth confirms what the angel told Mary. That had to be so reassuring to
this young, teen, unwed mom-to-be. Mary would have helped Elizabeth the three
months she was there. We don’t know if she was there for John’s birth, but some
speculate she was in order to help with the delivery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When Mary
returns home, she is through with her first trimester. The morning sickness may
have subsided. Considering her age, people may not have known she was pregnant
until the seventh or eighth month. I know if I were in her sandals, I’d be
concerned during that time about how things were going to play out. That’s at
least five months of considering every possible outcome. Nothing was within her
control. We saw in her conversation with the angel that Mary is a thinker. Like
most women, she thinks about what was spoken to her, about her or her baby, and
about the things going on around her. So, it only stands to reason that she
thought about the repercussions of this unexpected pregnancy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At some
point her pregnancy is discovered by her family. Mary’s family is never
mentioned. No conversations with her mom and dad are recorded, but I think
about what that conversation would have been like if I had to have it with my
parents. I wonder what my response would be to my daughter telling me this
story. Someone is delegated to tell Joseph the news, or the news spreads to
Joseph. Word got around even back then. There’s a reason God chose Joseph to be
Jesus’ earthly father. He was of noble character and faith. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In contrast
to Mary who actually sees an angel, Joseph is led by an angel in a series of
dreams over the next several years. Joseph listens and obeys. He submits his
doubt and concern to the Lord, and follows the instructions provided. The
relief that Mary must have felt had to have been great. He immediately takes
Mary from her father’s home to make her his wife, and they begin their travel
to Bethlehem. They really haven’t spent any time with each other up to this
point, so this trip provided them plenty of opportunity to get to know one
another. Don’t you know Mary had to be so relieved when Joseph told her about
his dream!? Surely they compared notes about what they had been told. I wonder
if they dreamed dreams for Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We don’t
know if Mary walked to Bethlehem, rode a donkey or a cart. The Bible doesn’t
say. Check it out. But by the time she would have made it to Bethlehem, she had
to have been exhausted. Then Mary and Joseph had to go door-to-door looking for
a place to stay. Think of a woman, late in pregnancy, hormones coursing through
her body having traveled 90 miles or so, and now there’s no place to prop up
her swollen ankles and feet or rest her back. Do you think you might have a
woman on the edge of collapse? If she isn’t crying, she is on the verge. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finally they
are led to the area where the manager of the inn keeps his animals. A lot of
times, this was like a cave or in the cleft of a rock. It’s not a nice barn or
something like that. It’s dark. It may be dank. It certainly smells, and this
is where she has to give birth. Nothing sanitary or sterile about this place.
We don’t know how long they were there when she finally gives birth, but don’t
you know that was an eye-opening experience for Joseph and Mary. Think about
the first time you were in the delivery room – what you saw, heard, smell. Mary
gives birth to the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords and is placed in a manger.
My daddy pointed out that while it seems like the most unlikely place for Jesus
to be born that it was the only place He could be born because the King of
Kings came first to be the bread of life for mankind. Just as the animals went
to the manger to eat and get nutrients, so do we go to Christ to get our
sustenance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do you know
that Luke never references the star? We get that gem from Matthew. We know it’s
been in the sky for about two years when the Magi arrive, so we know it was in
the sky when the shepherds came. It’s an assumption that people make, but I
doubt they know why. I would have loved to have seen Joseph’s face when the
shepherds told them of the angels and the star. You know he had to go out and
see it immediately. I wonder how many times Mary took Jesus out at night and
pointed at the star.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-77932803203706311562013-12-20T00:30:00.000-06:002013-12-20T00:30:02.103-06:00Lessons Learned in Mary's Shoes
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">LESSONS LEARNED IN MARY’S SANDALS:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I confess
that Mary is not one of the women in the Bible that I was dying to study or
teach, and yet that is what I’ll be doing. How many times have you heard her
story especially at Christmas time? You hear the same story year after year
after year. People have preconceived thoughts and ideas about Mary; some of
which are not biblically based. While my blogs are biblically based, they are
not the Word of God unless in italic. I study customs and traditions. I consider
what people might have heard and thought and felt by putting myself into their
sandals, so my perspective is colored by the life I’ve walked. But it is my
goal that as I sit down, praying for wisdom, that God reveals a little
something for me to chew on, something new and fresh. So, let’s dive into the
lessons I learned while wearing Mary’s sandals.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mary is old
enough to be betrothed, so people estimate her age anywhere from 15-17 years of
age. Girls back then didn’t go to school. They learned life skills at the hands
and feet of their mothers and grandmothers. These skills would be needed to run
their own homes, and these lessons would have started when they were quite
young. For Mary to stand out above the rest of the girls her age in order to
find favor with God, He must have seen something special about her. But then
again, He did create her, and He created her for this life. God’s name, El Roi,
the God who sees, was given by Hagar another poor pregnant woman who had run
away from Abram and Sarai. When it seems like the choices you make are
inconsequential, think again. God is watching. Does your behavior, attitude and
actions give God a reason to find favor in you? He created you for your life.
Are you living up to the potential that He created in you?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then the
angel appears. After 500 years of no communication from God, Mary is the second
person to receive a personal visit from an angel of God. How significant is
that!? A poor, humble, young virgin visits with an angel before the head of the
priests, before leaders in government, before her fiancé. I would have to think
the fact that the angel called her by name had to be as alarming as it was
comforting. She does not doubt what the angel says, but can you imagine how
difficult it was to process? I love the fact that Luke chronicles the fact that
Mary does try to process what she’s hearing. And even when she can’t completely
understand everything, she says, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Let it
be as you have said</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How often has
God attempted to communicate to you or lead you in a different direction just
for you to balk or go the other way because it is comfortable or a known path?
Have you ever just trusted God and followed allowing the chips fall where God
allows? That’s what Mary did at 15 to 17 years of age. It may be one of the
reasons she was chosen for this role in history.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I also
notice the things God didn’t say. God knew not to give Mary all the details of
the big picture because had she known how cruelly Jesus would have died, she
might not have enjoyed his babyhood, childhood, or teen years. She wouldn’t
live the life of being Jesus’s mom or a mom to her other children. He also
doesn’t explain about the kingdom that Jesus will rule, when that will be or
what it will look like. He doesn’t tell her all the things to come because it
would simply be too difficult to understand and appreciate and it would be so
overwhelming. Instead, God shoulders that responsibility and gives Mary just
enough to make her way for the day, for the moment, knowing she will trust Him
for the rest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I
thought about the Holy Spirit hovering over her, my mind went to Zephaniah
3:17, and how God sings over us with rejoicing. I wondered if she heard God
rejoicing because if there was ever a time for rejoicing, this would be the
time. How awesome that experience must have been for Mary! It’s not the first
time in Scripture that the Spirit hovered. If this peaks your interest, it
would be a great study.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At some
point, Mary has to tell her family about the messenger. We don’t know if she
tells them about the angel or of a messenger. Either way, we know that she
leaves shortly thereafter to go and visit Elizabeth. Most likely she would have
needed a letter from her father or male relative to travel abroad without
chaperone. I find it highly unlikely that Mary would have done a lot of
traveling by herself prior to this excursion. She would have had to spend the
night along the road or in an inn. It could have been a frightful time if she
didn’t believe what God had set into motion. She had to know that God would
protect her and her unborn baby at all costs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mary enters
Elizabeth’s home and greets her. Elizabeth is about 6 months pregnant and is
full of the Holy Spirit as is her baby, John, who leaps. I wonder if Mary’s
voice is the first voice that John heard while in the womb. Either way, he was
already testifying to the existence of a Savior while in the womb. Elizabeth’s
greeting to Mary confirmed what the angel had told Mary. I love to see women
encouraging women, affirming one another. Elizabeth was not jealous. She was
thankful for her own blessing. She didn’t need to covet Mary’s. Elizabeth’s
greeting is met with Mary’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Magnificat</i>.
You can see how she worships the Lord. You can see her heart. She is
overwhelmed by the idea that generations to come will know of her and call her
blessed. When something amazing happens to you or on your behalf, what is the
first thing that you do? Do you give God the glory?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-69920448767389623982013-12-19T01:00:00.000-06:002013-12-19T01:00:10.146-06:00In Her Sandals -- Mary on the Move<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> We head back
to Bethlehem to the little home we’ve rented. I’m a little nervous because this
is the first time I’ve been with Joseph. We’ve already been through so much
together, and he’s been so patient in waiting as have I. Even though he’s not
Jesus’s father, he loves Jesus as his very own. I see the way he looks at
Jesus. I watch him when he holds Jesus and talks to him<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>and wraps Jesus’s hand around a toy he made for him. When most men
would have abandoned me and divorced me, he stayed. When I could have born such
shame from those around me, he took me and made me his wife. That act alone
gave me a place, a standing in this world. He leads by following what God gives
him in dreams. How can I not love this man? How can I not give myself
completely and wholly to him? We are husband and wife in every sense of the word.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We get settled into a routine in
Bethlehem, and even though everything seems “normal,” the star still shines at
night. I love staring up into the night sky. I doubt that Jesus can see it, but
I show it to him anyway. I tell him that’s his star. God is giving a sign, a
big, bright sign. Jesus is toddling around, getting into everything, curious as
to how things work. He’s constantly banging things together and stacking his
blocks. He jabbers as he lines up his blocks, and I wonder what he’s saying.
He’s such a sweet baby and such a joy. One night around Jesus’s second
birthday, there’s a knock at the door. Joseph answers as I clean away the
dishes. There are men from the East saying they are kings, Magi, who have come
to worship the king. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Really!? This hasn’t
happened in some time. I am surprised. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. </i>They
were so excited and filled with joy. Come to find out, they’ve been searching
for Jesus for a long time. They bowed in front of Jesus and laid down gifts:
gold, frankincense and myrrh. Jesus warms up to them quickly grabbing their cloaks and garlands, and they are
thrilled when he allows them to pick him up. I’m hesitant. They’re Gentiles,
but Jesus is safe, so I just try to take it all in. When they leave, I consider
the gifts they gave. The gold is for royalty. I smile because he is the King of
the Jews. He will reign over the house of David. That’s what the angel told me.
Frankincense is for deity. They don’t realize just how significant this is. He
is Immanuel, Jesus, Son of God. It’s the third gift that gives me concern –
myrrh. It’s what they use to prepare a body to be buried. Jesus is just a baby.
He has a long life ahead of him. Why would they give him myrrh? I pack them all
away knowing that one day a long time from now I’ll give them to Jesus to do
with as he sees fit. I lay Jesus down in his crib. I kiss Joseph goodnight, and
I go to bed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I don’t know how long I’ve been
asleep when Joseph begins tossing and turning in his sleep and talking in his
sleep. I place my hand on his chest, and he calms down. I roll over, and as I
begin to drift back to sleep, Joseph wakes me gently saying, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Get up. God’s given me a dream. We have to
leave, and we have to leave now. </i>I roll over and look into his face, and I
know it’s time for action, not questions. I get out of the bed, pack Jesus’s clothes and a few
toys, a bag of food and flasks of water. I grab the gold, frankincense and
myrrh. Whatever I can throw quickly into bags, gets loaded onto our donkey. I
pick Jesus up and put him in a wrap and secure him to my body. He’s warm and safe.
I don’t get to tell anyone good-bye. We just disappear into the night, skipping
out on our rental lease.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m so exhausted by the time we get to stop, and we don’t get
to stop for long. Joseph is emphatic that we keep moving and get out of the
region. Several weeks later word comes, and I hear about all those innocent
baby boys that were murdered per Herod’s instructions. My heart shatters for
those mommas and babies, and to know that God protected us is overwhelming. I
know that even now God sees me and is protecting Jesus and myself. When I couldn't have protected my baby, God was. Who would
have thought that a poor, young virgin like myself would ever play a role in
history like this? Certainly not me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-10664440355783872842013-12-18T01:00:00.000-06:002013-12-18T01:00:12.098-06:00In Her Sandals -- Mary Sees the Face of the Son of God<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We arrive in Bethlehem, and it is busting at the seams.
People are everywhere. Everyone from David’s lineage is here. Talk about a
family reunion! We have no place to stay, and I start to get a bit discouraged
and a little weepy. I find myself getting weepy from time-to-time. Inn after
inn manager tells us they are full and beyond capacity. We finally find an inn
manager who says he will let us stay with his animals. I know he’s being
compassionate because he doesn’t have to do it, but he sees my swollen belly,
feet and legs, and he knows I could drop this baby at any time. Neither he nor
his wife can live with that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We make our way to a cleft in the rock where they keep their
cow, sheep and donkey. I am so tired that I don’t even care how badly it
smells, but the wife comes and mucks out the stalls laying down fresh hay. I
try to help, but let’s face it, I can’t get up on my own once I’m down. I rest
as much as I can, and I sleep as well as one can when there are animals around
you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Joseph makes his way around town finding out where he has to
go to register and what is required. He doesn’t wander away often or too far.
He also knows at any moment Jesus could come, and he asks the manager’s wife to
check on me when she can.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The time came, and Joseph was there, right by my side the
whole time, holding my hand, stroking my hair as the manager’s wife helped me
deliver the Son of God. He cries. I cry, and we clean the baby up. He’s wrapped
tightly in the swaddling clothes that are prepared for him, and he’s put on my
chest. His sweet puffy eyes and pink skin. I stroke his face, and Joseph holds
us both. I kiss Jesus on the forehead and begin to nurse. This is a moment I
will treasure – the three of us with the animals in the cleft of the rock. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Night falls, and I know I can’t hold him all night. I’ve held
him all day. I didn’t know what the Son of God’s face would look like as a tiny
baby, so I’ve studied his features while I held him in my arms. His eye brows,
his nose, his lips, his ears, his hair, his eyes. This is the face of God’s
Son. I’m holding God’s Son, and while I know I need to put him down, I just
hold on for one moment longer before Joseph takes him and lays him in the
manger Joseph prepared with fresh hay and blankets. I've protected him for nine months inside my womb, but now He's here, and I'm a little overwhelmed that now I protect Him with the fiercest mother's love I've ever known.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even though Jesus was placed in the manger, the animal’s
trough for food, none of them bothered him. There was a curious lamb, but they
never got close. When it was their feeding time, we removed Jesus and his
blankets so they could feed. I knew this arrangement was not permanent. I knew
at some point in time we would be living somewhere else, but in the meantime,
my baby would share his bed with the animals. It was the best we could do, and
I wonder what kind of place is this for the future king.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is well past meal time when we hear a commotion outside
our makeshift home. Joseph goes to check it out and meets some shepherds who
are heading in our direction. They keep looking up into the night sky. They are
so excited and animated and loud. They are talking over each other in their
excitement. One runs ahead of another as they jostle to get to Joseph. They ask
Joseph if this is where the Christ child is. Surprised, Joseph tells them
“yes.” The shepherds come in as Joseph stands there stooped by what’s going on.
That’s when I saw Joseph look into the sky. He stared for a moment, looked at
me, and grinned. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To be honest, I know shepherds are typically smelly people,
but I couldn’t smell them over the other smells in our little place. They were
just so excited. We hadn’t told anyone about Jesus being born. I doubt the
manager’s wife went and told them, plus we didn’t tell her that I had just
given birth to God’s Son. That’s when they told us about the angel and the
singing angels. They told us how the sky exploded with a bright light and the sound of angels singing, announcing the birth of the Messiah. They said people had to hear it from miles around. They were compelled to come. They were drawn to find him. They
had nothing to offer the Savior. Their clothes were soiled, and they smelled
from living with the sheep. They had nothing of value to offer, but what they
gave was the purest form of worship and adoration. It was so beautiful. I again cried.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t remember how long they stayed, but when they left,
Joseph walked me outside to see the star beaming proudly above our humble
beginning, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in the night
sky. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jesus was circumcised on the eighth day as is custom and outlined under
the Law, and we would have to wait a little longer to complete the Redemption
of the first born and Purification Offering and Ceremony. We travel to the
temple in Jerusalem for that. The trip wasn’t as difficult as I thought it
might be. Jesus travels well. We consecrate Jesus and make a sacrificial
offering in his place. We also complete my Purification Offering with two
turtledoves. As we are in the temple, a man named Simeon approaches us. He took
Jesus from my arms. Normally, I’d be a bit taken aback, but when he starts
speaking, I know it’s of the Lord. Simeon says,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation
which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to
the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> Simeon said, then he blessed Joseph
and I. Looking me in the face, he says, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This
child is destined to cause the failing and rising of many in Israel, and to be
a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be
revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That is a lot to process. I do my
best to remember everything he’s said when a woman comes over. I discover her
name is Anna. She is very old, but I see a light in her eyes. Her eyebrows
raise as do the corners of her mouth. She started thanking God and bringing
strangers over saying they needed redemption. This is the baby that was born to
redeem them. She was filled with such joy. Joseph and I were amazed by the
people who knew about Jesus already when we hadn’t said a word.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That night as I nursed this sweet
baby, I thought about what Simeon had said. My baby is salvation, and a light
for Gentiles. I understand that Jesus has come to reclaim the throne of David,
but what do Gentiles have to do with anything? I wonder who will fall and who
will rise because of my son. I’m concerned that people will speak against him and my mother's instinct already kicks up a notch. I can’t help but wonder what he meant by, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a sword will pierce your own soul too.</i> I’m not concerned for me,
but rather, what does this mean for Jesus? Protecting the Savior. That’s my
job. I’m his mom. He's a baby. The task seems too daunting and overwhelming, and he’s not
even two months old yet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-34877896196770412562013-12-17T01:00:00.000-06:002013-12-17T01:00:09.424-06:00In Her Sandals -- Mary
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My journey to Elizabeth’s home was uneventful. I know God is
protecting me. He won’t let anything happen to the baby I carry. I see
Zechariah and Elizabeth’s home. I can’t wait to see her. I haven’t seen her in
a long time. I knock on their door and enter their home greeting Elizabeth
whose pregnancy is clearly in full bloom. As I speak to her, this look comes
over her face, and she grabs my hand and puts it on her belly. The baby within
her is kicking and actively moving. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Blessed are you among women, and
blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of
my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my
ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that
what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished! </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I step back to listen because Elizabeth is so loud as she’s
telling me these things. I haven’t even told her I was pregnant. How could she
possibly know?! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 1in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My soul glorifies the
Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the
humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me – holy is his name. His mercy
extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed
mighty deeds with his arm he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost
thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the
humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away
empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham
and his descendants forever, even as he said to our fathers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And this is how our visit began. I cannot tell you how
relieved I was to hear Elizabeth testify and prophesy to me. It affirmed my
feelings and thoughts, and it confirmed what the angel had said. Not that I
doubted, but the reassurance was a blessing. Elizabeth knew I was carrying
God’s Son without my telling her, maybe others will too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Elizabeth shared with me the miracle of her conception which
explained while Zechariah was mute. I’m not really sure what to make of all of
that, but now I understand why Elizabeth was thankful for my instant belief
that God was able to do the impossible. Apparently, Zechariah hadn’t believed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love being here for her last trimester. I’m helping to take
care of her and her home, helping her to prepare for John’s birthday. Elizabeth
is so patient with me on those days that I’m fighting morning sickness or fatigue.
We are a pair. That’s for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am there for John’s arrival. How amazing! What a little
miracle. I know it’s time for me to head home, so Elizabeth can get used to
being the mother she always wanted to be. I head home carrying Jesus in my
womb. He’s always with me. That fact alone is so comforting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not showing yet, but I know the day is coming, and people
are going to start asking questions. Here’s the thing. I left right after the
angel visited me. I left to go see Elizabeth, so I know there will be those who
think I got pregnant while I was gone, and that I was unfaithful to Joseph.
Joseph knows he hasn’t been with me. He will know the baby isn’t his. I’m able
to keep my pregnancy hidden for some time, but eventually, someone notices the
change in my body. My family has a sit-down. I tell them about the angel and
what the angel said. I tell them about what Elizabeth said. I can see the doubt
and confusion in their faces. I ask them to trust me. I’ve never given them any
reason to doubt me before. Trust me for the unbelievable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Someone has to tell Joseph. I’m not sure who is chosen to
tell him. I wouldn’t do anything to shame or hurt Joseph, but this isn’t about
him. This is about God. It’s about His plan, not mine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We wait for Joseph’s response. He could publicly disgrace me
and divorce me, and then no one will want to marry me. He could divorce me
silently, but men rarely choose that option. He could marry me is the last
option. That would be a miracle. If Joseph does either of the first two, my
family will make the next choice regarding my life and Jesus’s life. So, I
wait, and I pray. Boy, do I pray!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Word comes from Joseph that he has to go to Bethlehem for the
census because he is of the house of David. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">As
soon as I hear that Joseph is of the house of David, my mind goes back to what
the angel said. My baby, Jesus, was to reign over the house of David. It’s a
very little piece of the puzzle. </i>He tells my family that I am to get my
things together and go with him. He intends to marry me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh how I love that man!</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I started packing the few things I have for myself and the
clothes I have for Jesus are so small and soft. I pack a few personal things
because I really don’t have much, and Joseph and I start our trek. It’s the
first time that Joseph and I have been alone, and the silence is a bit awkward.
We begin talking at the same time, grin, and he tells me he knows that I
haven’t been unfaithful and that I’m carrying God’s Son. I just want to break
down in tears, and as a matter of fact, I do. What a relief! Relief washes all
over me. I breathe deeply and feel the tension in my shoulders slowly melt
away. Since he knows, I don’t have to tell him about the angel’s visit or what
happened at Elizabeth’s, but we have about 90 miles of walking and plenty of
time, so I do. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know I’m moving slower than a herd of turtles, but when you
are eight and a half months pregnant, walking on cobble stone streets and dirt
paths make for some very swollen feet and ankles, not that I can see them, but
I can definitely feel them. We take frequent breaks and occasionally I can
ride, but truth is, that is uncomfortable as well. I don’t complain though for
I know it won’t be long before this little one that I’ve protected inside my
womb will make his entrance into this world, and everything will change.
Everything.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-48352173787850426962013-12-16T01:00:00.000-06:002013-12-16T01:00:14.292-06:00In Her Sandals - Women of Christmas
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m really a
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nobody</i>, but I am content. I live with
my parents, but I’m betrothed to a carpenter. One day, I’ll have my own home.
I’ll move out of my parents’ home into his home and make it our home. In most
ways, I think I’m ready. I’ve been under my mother’s feet since I was old
enough to walk. I was sweeping the floor by three and helping to wash dishes. I
began learning to bake and cook at a young age as well. When I was young, I
used to love mashing the dough between my fingers. As I grew, I learned more
things like washing clothes and sewing. I was happy to learn. We didn’t have
much, but we shared what we could. Like I said, by the standard around here,
I’m really nothing special. I know a lot is expected of me when I become a
wife, so I do my best at whatever I put my hand to do. That is the best I can
do, as I live unnoticed around here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I really did not expect to live any
differently than the way I was raised, poor and humble. I never expected to
wear fine linen or eat rich foods. That’s just not my lot in life, and while
some may be striving for those things, I don’t. I’m happy. My needs are met. I
need nothing more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There are some days that draw longer
than others. There are days that become monotonous, but in the big scheme of
things, my life could be so much worse. There’s comfort in monotony. You know
what to expect. Life is predictable, but my life was not destined to be
“normal.” When I thought I was unnoticed, El Roi saw me. When I was doing my
daily chores, Yahweh observed me. Then one day as I was working on my handwork,
I was startled so badly. I about jump out of my skin. It’s not like he knocked
on the door or anything, and when I’m by myself, I tend to be deep in thought.
So when he appeared you can imagine how my heart jumped into my throat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Greetings,
you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you (Vs 28).</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Oh my word! Is he an angel? He’s got to be an angel, but he
must be a LOST angel. I am not highly favored. I am a poor, young woman. Plus,
the Lord doesn’t speak to someone like me. As I’m trying to process and all
these thoughts are running through my head, he speaks again, and once again,
I’m a bit rattled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do not be afraid, Mary, you have
found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you
are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of
the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of David, and he will
reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ummmm, he KNOWS my name, and we have NOT been introduced. My
mind is in a whirlwind of thoughts. I have found favor with God. How? My eyes
tear up. How is this possible? And I’m going to have a baby? I’m a virgin. I
know I’m young, but I know how babies are made. I struggle to find my voice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">How will this be, since
I am a virgin?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Holy Spirit will come upon you,
and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born
will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a
child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month.
For nothing is impossible with God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I pinch myself. This is really happening. How exciting! I’m
so excited for Elizabeth, and I truly believe that nothing is impossible with
God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am the Lord’s
servant. May it be to me as you have said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I fall to my knees and bow my head, and I feel the Most High
hovering over me. Is that singing I hear?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m still trying to process everything that the angel told me
when my family begins arriving at home. I tell them a messenger came and that
Elizabeth is pregnant. They are surprised, and I tell them that I am to go to
her. At first there are some concerns about my going alone because this is the
furthest I will have gone by myself, but I convince them that I’m ready. With their
blessing, I go. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I pack a few things and a little food and water, and I head
out the next morning. It’s in the evening when I’m alone with my thoughts that
I think about what the angel said. I never really knew that God was watching me
and that even when no one else appreciated the hard work I did, He found favor
in me. I’m so unworthy of this honor, but if God trusts me to do this, then I
trust He will deliver me. Who is going to believe me? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes, I’m still a virgin. Yes, I’m pregnant. No, Joseph’s not the
father. No, I didn’t sleep around. I wasn’t unfaithful to Joseph.</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The father? The Holy Spirit, God. He’s the
Father of my unborn baby. </i>I think it sounds too good to be true. I’m
thankful for the opportunity, but I know there will be many who won’t believe
me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I put my hand on my flat belly and grin. One day, there will
be a full-grown baby in here, and he will rule. The angel said Jesus will reign
over the house of David and that his rule will have no end. I’m not really sure
what all that means. But wouldn’t it be neat to live with the king?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-67938373536098444972013-12-11T03:00:00.000-06:002013-12-11T03:00:14.108-06:00Lessons Learned from Wearing Anna's Sandals
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">LESSONS LEARNED FROM WEARING ANNA’S
SANDALS:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Anna’s story is in three verses in
the Bible found in Luke 2:36-39. From those three verses and a little digging
in the Old Testament, Anna’s story is extrapolated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If Anna was around 15 when she
married as a virgin to a man for seven years and she was a widow for 84 years,
then this puts her around 106 years old. We don’t know if she had children in
those seven years of marriage; we just know that she never remarried. I
wondered if she had children, did she outlive them and that is why she was at
the temple all the time serving God? It’s a possibility. Otherwise, she
should’ve been with her children and grandchildren. Regardless, God had a
purpose for her outliving those she loved. God had a purpose for her life to
continue on serving Him. She was focused on God. She was determined in her
praying and fasting and serving. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I cannot help but think that when
Anna prayed that she was praying for God to move, praying for God to send the
Messiah. I bet she was relentless in her prayer. I bet when she started praying,
God would smile and think, “Yes, Anna, I know you are ready for the Messiah.
I’m working on it.” She was fierce in her prayers, pounding on the doors of
heaven and on the ears of God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It says Anna was a prophetess, but
she didn’t become a prophetess until she was 106 because God did not speak
through prophets during the Dark Ages. It wasn’t until God sent an angel to
speak with Zechariah that God broke His silence. Do you get how huge that is!?
She was 106 when she fulfilled one of her purposes God had laid out for her.
How old are you? I dare say that you aren’t 106. If you are sitting on your
assets or laurels, that is a luxury you can’t afford. Discover what God’s
purpose for you is and get doing what He has called you to do. Time is short,
sweet friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I bet Anna was desperate to hear
more and learn more once she heard about Zechariah’s encounter. This was the
temple in Jerusalem. You know word got around. Have you ever anxiously waited
on news about someone? Maybe someone was in a bad crash or deathly ill or maybe
someone was serving in the military overseas and you were desperate to find out
any news whatsoever about your loved one. Have you ever been there? Have you
ever felt that sense of desperation just wanting some piece of news? I can’t
help but think that Anna felt this in her inner most being. So when she finally
sees Joseph and Mary holding a baby and Simeon huddling over them praying, Anna
become filled with the Spirit. She burst in praise and prophesying. How could
she not!? Her enthusiasm and excitement cannot be contained. It was infectious.
She was telling those who needed redemption and grace that Scripture was being
fulfilled. The time had come. The great I Am was here, and she was blessed to
see the face of God. WOOHOO! That right there will preach!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So here are my questions to you: How
desperate are you to see the face of God? How infectious is your faith, your
enthusiasm over the things of God, your joy at God’s handiwork? Are you so
excited about what God has done that you can’t help yourself, you have to tell
others? Is the excitement just pouring out of you? And don’t you know that she
told some people more than once? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did I
tell you I got to see the face of the Messiah? I can’t remember who I’ve told,
but did I tell you? </i>When was the last time you felt the Spirit? When was
the last time you saw God move or answer a prayer? Are you relentlessly
pounding on the door of heaven, bending your Father’s ear, telling Him what is
on your heart?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>1 Timothy 3:5, “Now she who is widow
indeed and who has been left alone, has fixed her hope on God and continues in
entreaties and prayers days and night…” In a time that Anna could have wished
to have died having outlived her loved one, she was still serving God, and she
was rewarded for her faithfulness. There is no doubt that Anna’s hope was on
God and in God, and the Scripture verifies her praying day and night. What a
testimony she has. Life does not end when a status in your life ends. Your
purpose does not die just because you grow older and outlive loved ones. Whatever
season of life we are in, may we pray without ceasing and seek God for that
purpose He has for us in the season in which we find ourselves. The time is
growing near, sweet friends. Christ’s return is inevitable. Will you be like
Anna looking for Christ? Are you excited about His return? Are you telling
people about it? Will you know the Scripture? Will you be praying in
anticipation of His return? This is what Anna was all about. She wasn’t all
caught up in her status of widow or in her late-in-life age. She was all about
serving God and telling others.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m just telling you, I can’t wait
to meet Anna in heaven. I bet she still has an infectious energy and would love
to recall how she met the Savior face-to-face while on earth. I’m going to tell
her I really enjoyed wearing the sandals she wore during this period of her
life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-10457390298893090912013-12-09T02:30:00.000-06:002013-12-09T02:30:07.766-06:00In Her Sandals -- Women of Christmas
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My story is
a story of how dreams change over a lifetime.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like any girl, growing up I wanted
to marry and have my own household, and for a very brief time I had that dream.
You see, my husband died after we had only been married for seven years. Seven very
short years. What happens next is really not important. I never remarried. Now
I’m so old the detail are a haze anyway. So, please forgive me if my mind is
hazy on the past. I am, after all, 106 years old, or somewhere thereabouts. My
once eternal youth beauty has been exchanged for gray hair and wrinkles. My
naiveness has given way to hard won wisdom. My will, well, my will has long
since come under the way of the Almighty. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There comes a time when a widow
comes to the realization that her true husband is Yahweh. He alone can protect
and provide. He’s the One I serve now, and I am content and happy in doing so.
The years of looking for a husband have long since gone. Yahweh’s the only One
I serve. I’m guessing somewhere in my sixties, I started coming to the Temple
daily and serving God. I figure if I’m still here on this earth, there’s a
reason, so I better be about my Father’s business. The Temple is my favorite
place to be. It’s my happy place. I love seeing people come with their
families. I love ministering to those in need, those who are discouraged, those
who just need a hug. I can be found here anytime night or day. Let’s face it,
when you get to be my age, we take frequent naps during the day, go to bed with
the birds and up with the rooster. Anytime I’m awake though, I’m at the Temple.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Some things you should know about me
is that my name means <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">grace</i>. My
daddy’s name was Phanuel. His name has an alternate<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- Penuel, which means <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">face of God</i>. Wouldn’t that be awesome to see the face of God!? I’ve
heard people of old having dreams and visions, but it’ been over 400 years
since God made His presence known. I have heard tell though that Zechariah saw
an angel or had a vision when he was in the Holy of Holies. I cannot tell you
how excited that made me. Then I’ve also heard that God sent an angel to a
young woman. I cannot wait to meet her, to hear what she was told.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pray for the day that I can hear her speak,
the truth she will say. I want God to move. I want to feel His presence, to see
a sign or something for myself. I know that’s selfish, but I’m an old lady give
me that one indulgence, okay?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My family and heritage
is important to me. I am of the tribe of Asher. It’s not a well-known tribe. No
one famous ever came from Asher. We don’t have any famous musicians, judges,
kings, rulers or warriors. Asher means <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fortune
</i>or<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> happiness. </i>My tribe is
mentioned all throughout the Old Testament and is even in Revelations. You see,
my tribe started with Jacob’s eighth son was born to Zilpah (his concubine) because
Leah couldn’t have children. Jacob blessed Asher saying that Asher would have
rich food that he would give a king. In the wilderness marches we numbered
53,400, and when we were given our assigned portion of the promise land, we
couldn’t drive out the Canaanites and had to live among them. I think we were
absorbed into their culture. It happens.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fast. Trust me when
I say, I won’t die from fasting. I don’t do it every day, but I do it
regularly. I tell you this, so you understand my devotion to God and that even
I get my attention drawn off of what is important. Fasting draws me closer to
God. Fasting requires me to put down the things that I desire or think I need
or want and put God first. He does not deny me what I need. I have fasted from
speaking and meditated on the Scripture I had memorized. I have fasted certain
foods or wine. Whatever God calls me to fast, I do, and I do it willingly and
happily. Sometimes I fast on behalf of someone who needs a miracle, but most of
the time when I fast, I’m pleading for the Messiah to come.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I pray. I pray without ceasing. When I see someone walk into
the Temple, I say their names to God, and if I know their need, I raise it up
in prayer. If I don’t know their name, sometime I give them a name or I point
them out to God. He knows for whom I pray. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some of my most favorite times in the Temple are when
families bring their babies in to make a purification offering. The baby boys
are brought a month and ten days after they are born, and his parents make a
sacrifice on behalf of the mother who gave birth. It’s also a time that the
first born son is consecrated to the Lord. What an honorable time in a new
parent’s life in dedicating their baby to God. I no longer watch the ceremony.
I watch the parents’ faces, and from time-to-time, the baby upstages the whole
show by doing something unexpected. Such sweet memories as the life of a family
truly begins. Sweet, sweet, sweet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are other people serving in the Temple as well. There’s
a man named Simeon. I got to see him filled with the Spirit of God. HOW
EXCITING! Simeon is a great godly man. He said the Spirit told him that he
would see the consolation of Israel. That kind of thing gives me goose bumps! I
keep a close watch on Simeon. I want to know when God keeps His promise to
Simeon in the hopes that I too will have that same blessing. I cannot compare
my anticipation of the Messiah to anything I’ve ever known. It just wells up in
me, and I cannot contain it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was during one of these welling-up times that I feel the
Spirit. I get so excited. I start looking. I don’t move as fast as I once did,
and I’m not as stable on my feet as when I was young, but the Spirit is urging
me and moving me. If I had a beautiful singing voice, I’d be singing at the top
of my lungs. I see Simeon talking to a young couple holding a baby, and he’s
praying over them. I move as quickly as my feeble legs will carry me, tears of
joy running down my face, this overwhelming Spirit causes me to speak. I move
in, and I see the face of the Messiah! I raise my hands in worship. I have seen
his face! Hallelujah! I’ve seen the face of the Messiah. Phanuel’s daughter,
tribe of Asher, Anna saw the face of Jesus! I can’t help myself. Before hearing
Simeon speak, I knew this infant in arms was the Son of God. My enthusiasm and
excitement could not possibly be contained. People are looking at me. Once they
make eye contact, it’s too late for them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started bringing them over. People who
needed redemption and grace. I told them this was the long-awaited Messiah.
Long after Joseph and Mary left the temple with Jesus, I was still telling
people about looking into the face of Jesus. I told them to keep an eye out, to
keep tabs on him as he grew up that he would do great things. I told them to
expect it. I won’t live to see it, but they need to know that he’s here. He’s
actually here. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you, thank you, thank you, God, for allowing me the
blessing of seeing the face of my Savior. I am truly favored and blessed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-1828868463052804672013-12-06T01:30:00.000-06:002013-12-06T01:30:00.782-06:00Lessons Learned in Elizabeth's Sandals
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">LESSONS
LEARNED IN ELIZABETH’S SANDALS<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In over 500 years God had not moved or stirred among His
chosen people. He made His plan known to Zechariah first, a man. While
Zechariah had prayed and prayed for a son as well as the coming of the Messiah,
I wonder why he didn’t believe when things started happening. Humility?
Skepticism? Lack of faith? Regardless, God’s plan was God’s plan, and He set it
into motion on His time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The women reacted differently. Elizabeth was the first
person to experience being filled with the Holy Spirit and uttering words only
the Spirit could give. Mary, while in her young mind couldn’t understand the
“how,” her heart was that of a servant and trusted God to work it out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To know that God cared about Elizabeth’s shame, to know
that He was going to bless her beyond her wildest dreams but couldn’t give it
to her when she wanted it most, to know that God was working it out for her
good even after decades of wishing and hoping and praying, Elizabeth story
resonates with so many. Trust in God and faith are partners. You can’t have one
without the other. And to see her character as described as having lived
“honorably before God, careful in keeping to the ways to the commandments and
enjoying a clear conscience before God,” sets a high standard for those who are
living in disappointment that God hasn’t answered their prayers the way we
think is best. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even in Elizabeth’s excitement of being pregnant, she was
also humbled that the mother of the Messiah had come to visit her. She wasn’t
jealous. We don’t read that she envied Mary in her heart. That’s not the kind
of woman Elizabeth was. If she had been that kind of woman, God might not have
chosen her. How often do we miss the full joy of a blessing because we see what
someone else received and decide theirs is better? It’s childish and immature.
Elizabeth knew that God had a special calling for John. She might not have
known that he would eat locust and honey and be covered with camel’s hair, but
if God was faithful to give her this son, He would be faithful to lead her son.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Elizabeth and John were set apart. They did not drink
anything from the vine. Some have said that he may have been a Nazarite which
is a person consecrated to God who cannot eat anything non-kosher, touch
anything dead, cut their hair or drink anything from the vine. This is not
documented in the Scripture that I could find. But they were set apart
nonetheless. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">She chose to remain in seclusion for the first five
months of her pregnancy. Some have speculated that she stayed hidden in case
she miscarried. Her shame would have been replaced by pity. Some have said she
stayed hidden because of the stigma and embarrassment that might have been
attached to a late-in-life pregnancy. I have lived in fear that God would take
the child He had given me, but I don’t see that fear in Elizabeth. The second
option may be more viable, but what if there is a third option? Elizabeth knew
this was ordained from God. She knew that God hadn’t moved or spoken to His
people in about 500 years. I think she knew there would be a lot of questions,
excitement and concern wondering what it all means. What if she stayed removed
from society because she wanted that time for herself to enjoy the pregnancy
and to enjoy God’s blessing? She was resting up for the excitement to come.
It’s something that I’d like to ask her when I see her in heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Think of her testimony. Her neighbors watched Elizabeth
live out her faith when it appeared that God wasn’t listening. Her marriage
survived 9 months and a few days of silence. God surprised her with a pregnancy
when she was past the age of fertility. Her neighbors watched her testimony
bloom as God showed his overwhelming mercy on her giving her a healthy son who
was the forerunner of Jesus Christ, the Messiah. God removed her shame and
blessed her for her faithfulness. How liberating that must have been. God never
forgot about her. He wasn’t surprised when she struggled, and don’t you know
that God thoroughly enjoyed blessing her with a baby. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>James 1:17, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down
from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of
turning.</i> I think God enjoys surprising us with good and perfect gifts
because that is just the kind of God He is. Sometimes we just have to wait for
it making the gift that much sweeter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are people watching you: your children, your friends,
your coworkers, your classmate, your relatives, your spouse. What do you
actions, your words, your belief or lack of belief tell them about God? You are
a living, breathing testimony either for God or against Him. Which are you?
Elizabeth leaves big sandals behind to fill in this area. Can you wear them?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-38757031040679632992013-12-04T02:30:00.000-06:002013-12-04T02:30:02.327-06:00In Her Sandals -- Elizabeth
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">NOT FORGOTTEN AND FULL OF SURPRISES</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">John. I rub my hands over my belly and call his name and
smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Five
months in this house with a man who can’t talk or hear. Think about it. Could
you do that with your spouse? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Honey, I
need some wheat. We’re out. </i>Instead I walk to him, look him in the face and
mouth my words. For some unknown reason I speak very loudly and slowly as if
that is going to help him to hear me or understand me. Isn’t that hilarious!? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">HONEY, I. NEED. WHEAT. GO. GET. SOME.
PLEASE.</i> Then he gets that confused look on his face, and I show him the
empty wheat bag. Ding, ding, ding. The light goes on, and out he goes. We also
play charades a lot. Why he acted like he was taking out the garbage, I don’t
know, but I come to realize that he’s trying to tell me something about the
laundry. I giggle. He gets frustrated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t think that just because he can’t hear me
that means I’m not talking. Some days drift by without a word being uttered in
this house, and then there are days, when mine is the only voice bouncing off
these walls. I tell Zechariah all kind of things. Of course he’s deaf and can’t
hear me, but it doesn’t stop me from talking to him. I love him, and I’m happy
in my position, but I confess there are days that the walls begin closing in.
And then in my sixth month, I get a visitor. Never have I been more excited to
receive a guest! A person who can hear me and talk to me. What a gift! What a
blessing!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mary, my young sweet cousin,
Mary. She greets me, and I am beyond excited. As a matter of fact, there is a
feeling that washes over me that I’ve never felt before, and I know it is the
Spirit. And my baby, John, leaps in my womb. He leaps so hard that if I had
been sitting, I’m pretty sure he would have knocked me off my seat. Something
is stirring in him as well. I can feel it. Oh the excitement! There is
something powerful going to happen! God is moving again. He’s speaking again!
Hallelujah the dark ages are lifting. My thirsty soul is being fed by the
Spirit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You know
that someone had the nerve to ask me if I was jealous of Mary? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Lord may have answered our prayers for a
baby, but Mary’s son is the Messiah.</i> Are you kidding me!? I don’t give
those people any place in my head much less my heart, mainly because they are
both so full that they are overflowing. I’m just humble by the fact that the
mother of the Messiah came to see me, an old pregnant woman. I can’t help but
smile when I say that. Plus, she needed encouraging. Bless her heart, she’s 15
and only betrothed. There will be people who won’t believe her. There will be
people who will want to stone her, and who knows what Joseph, her fiancé, will
do or say. So, I encouraged her. I am so proud of her for believing the angel
and trusting God. I’ve seen what it’s like to live as a result of lack of faith
in what God can do. Zechariah hasn’t spoken a word since.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I help
Mary during her first trimester. You know all the things that go along with
that – morning sickness and fatigue. She may be pregnant with the Messiah, but
she’s still human. And she helps me in my last trimester when I can’t see my
feet, and I waddle everywhere. Word is slowly getting out, but it won’t be long
before John is here, and I’ll have to share my miracle with the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The day
comes that Mary has to go home. I will miss her terribly. I’m old enough to be
her grandmother, and yet, we have bonded in a way that I will never be able to
bond with another woman again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Zechariah still isn’t
speaking. I’ve almost forgotten what his voice sounds like. He stubbed is toe the
other day. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. While it has been funny
at times, it does get old. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Oh my! I brace myself.
Contractions. Water breaking. Tears. More contractions. John wastes no time
getting here. It’s as if he already has an agenda. I know he has a special
calling on him. He’s not to drink of wine and to live a life set apart, but I
can’t help what else is in his future. I hold my baby swaddled in a soft
blanket. I fall in love with the smallest thing in the world. I knew it would
feel like this. I look up into Zechariah’s face. He’s overcome with emotions as
tears stream down the traces of his wrinkled face. His face that I’ve memorized
is an open book. No words are necessary. The sweetest of moments, the softest
of times and it has been so worth the wait. It has been so worth every monthly
torture and every year of waiting. I am so full. My cup runneth over.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Zechariah opens his mouth,
but nothing comes out. When will God release him from this? He should be
shouting it in the street like he always said he would. It’s time for John’s
circumcision. The leaders start trying to name my son, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Zechariah.</i> I inform them the baby’s name is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">John.</i> But <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">John isn’t a family
name, </i>they say. I say again, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">His name
is John.</i> And as if I don’t know what I’m talking about they ask Zechariah
the baby’s name. Of course, they are acting all of this out looking like a
bunch of monkeys. Zechariah is watching their antics, and I catch a glimpse and
start to chuckle. Someone is rocking a pretend baby in their arms and pointing
at it, and speaking very loudly and slowly, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WHAT’S
THE BABY’S NAME?</i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>For a minute I
think Zechariah was going to mess with them, but instead he writes down our
baby’s name, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">John.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Zechariah started speaking.
I heard his voice. I hadn’t forgotten it after all. He stood up. He was full of
the Holy Spirit, and he started prophesying. I sat there in awe. I was so proud
of my husband, and I was even more ingratiated to Yahweh who chose to bless us
so richly, so completely, so lavishly. All those years, feeling like I wasn’t
being seen or heard by Yahweh only to realize that God had surprises planned
for me all the way. A surprise pregnancy. A surprise name. A surprise
affliction for Zechariah. A surprise visit from Mary. A surprise visit by the
Holy Spirit. A surprise restoration of Zechariah. God had never forgotten me. I
realize that now. He was just working His plan out in His timing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I could not want more for my
son than to hear what the angel told Zechariah. My son will be filled and
controlled by the Holy Spirit. He was to be the forerunner of the Messiah. I am
blessed beyond measure.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-42516733646939613512013-12-02T02:55:00.000-06:002013-12-02T02:55:00.269-06:00In Her Sandals -- Women of Christmas
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not
Forgotten and Full of Surprises<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s
that time of year again. I’ve washed his clothes, packed food for his trip,
kissed him goodbye, and watched him walk out the door headed to Jerusalem. I
giggle a little because it feels like I’m sending him off to school, not that I
know how it feels to send a little mister to school, but I can imagine. He will
be gone for a good week. It’s his turn to serve in the temple. He goes twice a
year to serve. This is nothing new to us. He comes from a family of priests,
and my family of priests go all the way back to Aaron. This is the only life we
know. He loves serving. It’s his heartbeat, his passion. He loves studying
God’s Word, and he loves coming home to tell me what all he’s learned. The
weeks that follow his return are some of the best conversations.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We are
followers of Yahweh. I can’t remember a day when we weren’t. It’s not easy
either. For years, no, decades we have prayed for one thing, and we have been
denied it over and over and over again. People think because we don’t have
children that we must have some sin in our lives, most specifically me. I
remember weeping every time someone in our community became pregnant. It got to
where people avoided telling me that they were expecting. I can’t say that I blame
them. There was a time when I was just so tender. I didn’t understand why God
would deny us a child, but I trusted that God had a plan. I didn’t know if His
plan included children for us or if He had another way He was going to take
care of us in our old age. We are His servants, and we humbly serve Him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now I’m
at an age that no one expect me to become pregnant. For years I was blamed for
not being able to conceive. It was my fault that we didn’t have a little
Zechariah running around our home. Life happens. People have said some mean and
heartless things over the past decades, but I realize they have no idea what
I’m going through, and I don’t bother to tell them. I don’t tell them how I’ve
grieved every month for the baby that wasn’t there or how my heart and arms
feel so empty and bare. Barren. Infertile. Sterile. All labels I disdain but
wear because my Lord has entrusted me with this in my life. I choose to keep my
eyes looking for the Messiah. I choose to learn the Scriptures, so I can know
the signs of His coming. Won’t that be simply amazing!? There has been almost
500 years of silence from God. No prophets. No stirring among the people. What
we do have is the Scripture. People are pouring over them thirsty, craving, and
desperate for a Word from Yahweh. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s
funny that after all these years, I still have a desire to be someone’s mom.
It’s still on my lips in prayer. To look down into the face of a gift from God,
to wrap his fingers around mine, to kiss his forehead, to nurse him, to hear
him and feel him against my skin – Those desires haven’t left me. Do you think
that’s silly?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So, as
the husband of my youth now the husband in my old age ambles toward Jerusalem,
I realize just how quiet our home is, and I wonder what it would sound like to
have a small voice, a small life living inside these walls. I just want to know
what that’s like. Just once before I die. Just once.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sorry I
rambled on so. This is a very tender part of my heart that I just exposed.
Please don’t judge me like those around here have.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The week
drags on, and I get word that Zechariah has been selected to go into the Holy
of Holies. How exciting! I’m so excited for him. This is a once in a lifetime
experience. As a matter of fact, many priest die never being permitted to go
into the Holy of Holies. On the other hand, some priest have died going into
the Holy of Holies. Zechariah and I have talked about what to do if he ever
gets the call to go in. We’ve heard stories about what it looks like. They burn
incense at 9 AM and 3 PM. When they are burning incense, there is smoke going
up, and people stop what they are doing to pray. All these prayers going up.
Surely Yahweh will respond. Surely he won’t keep his back from us forever. I
cannot wait for Zechariah to get home. I want to hear all about it. I have so
many questions. I’m just so excited.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally,
I see Zechariah returning home. It appears there is someone helping him, and I
wonder what has happened. In no time we put some of the pieces of the puzzle
together. Apparently while Zechariah was in the Holy of Holies an angel of the
Lord came to him. That makes me so excited. I have chills, goose bumps. I’m on
the edge of my seat. The angel told Zechariah that I was going to have a son
and to call him <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">John.</i> There’s more to
the message, but it’s unclear. The angel did something to Zechariah and now he
can’t speak or hear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Is this
the trade-off? A baby for Zechariah’s speech and hearing? I don’t question it.
I know God has his reasoning. But I have to tell you I’m dying to talk to my
husband, to ask him questions, to hear the details from his own mouth. The
biggest news of my life and my husband can’t answer my questions. To say that I
am filled with joy would be the biggest understatement ever. There are no words
that can convey to you what I’m feeling right now. I’m shocked. I’m surprised. I’m
in awe. I’m humbled. For once, I cry a river of tears in shear utter delight and
joy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And to
know that Yahweh after 500 years of silence, broke His silence to speak to my
husband. The only word for that is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">humbling</i>.
Of all the priests, in all the years, in all the times incense was burned in
the Holy of Holies, God controlled the lot that selected my husband for this
specific time. My sweet, godly husband. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And as
the angel told Zechariah, I did become pregnant. I became pregnant when women
my age don’t get pregnant. I wasn’t sure those parts were even working still.
As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure they didn’t. I stayed at home for the
first five months of the pregnancy. Because while I am excited about the
pregnancy, someone would find some reason that this should be shameful. Haters.
Nothing is going to rob me of this joy. The two words I’ve wanted to say all my
life, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m pregnant,</i> are now the words
I hide in my heart. I’ve wanted for so long to shout it from the mountain top
that I was indeed going to be a mom. I’ve wanted to tell people in the market
about the upcoming arrival of my baby like all the other girls did, but
instead, I keep this treasure for myself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>John. I
rub my hands over my belly and call his name and smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-85530261233076253292013-10-10T00:30:00.000-05:002013-10-10T08:30:56.542-05:00Lessons Learned in Rahab's Sandals -- Love this story<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How often do you stereo-type someone? I can tell you as
being a young woman starting out in my field of insurance fraud investigations,
I was stereotyped – A LOT. It used to grind on my nerves when some body shop
owner would talk down to me, call me “honey, “ “sugar,” or “sweetie.” By the
time I was through with them they had realized their mistake in underestimating
me, and that I was definitely NOT their “honey,” “sugar,” or “sweetie.” I
wonder if Rahab was underestimated because of her profession. People saw her
and immediately say, “Rahab, the prostitute.” They didn’t see a wise,
discerning woman. They didn’t see a woman of courage and faith. They focused on
the negative.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do you judge someone you see pan-handling? What do you think
when you see someone whose arms are covered with tattoos? Do you make
assumptions about the kid with pink hair? The body is a package that contains a
soul, a soul that God created and loves. Did God want Rahab prostituting
herself? No. Does God want us having sex outside of marriage? No—He literally
spells it out in His Word. But as for us as humans, we should really get to
know a person. Rahab was smart, wise, discerning. She was intuitive and took
care of her own. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s something else about Rahab. She and her family went
on to live outside the camp of Israel. She stayed with the Israelites. She
believed in Yahweh, and Yahweh blessed her. Rahab got married and settled down,
and she had a baby, a baby boy that would grow up to be one of my most favorite
men in the Bible. Rahab married Salmon and gave birth to Boaz. (Matthew 1:2).
If you don’t know who Boaz is, he is the kinsman redeemer of Ruth in the book
of Ruth. Rahab is listed in the genealogy of Jesus. She was one of Jesus’ great
grands. And in Hebrews chapter 11 where it talks about heroes of the faith,
Rahab is mentioned in verse 31. James 2 notes how Rahab took action in her
faith. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tears well up in my eyes as I think about Rahab. What a
great story! Her life took so many twists and turns, but when she believed in
Yahweh and acted in faith on her belief, the best twist, the best turn in her
life was made. You might as well slip a glass slipper on her foot. From
prostitute to great – grand of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. God can
redeem you no matter where you are in life. God can take the mixed up, sick
world you find yourself stuck in and make something beautiful from the ashes of
your life. He can make something of value of your life. God is giving you the
opportunity to act in faith and believe in Him. Confess to Him that He is Lord
and ask Him to forgive you and save you. He is so faithful. Then as you grow in
Christ, as you learn to follow Him and make the right choices, God will bless
you. It won’t be easy, but it is so worth it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are many women and children in the sex industry around
the world. If you’ve never walked in their shoes or sandals, if you’ve never
gotten to know them, then you are not to judge. What you should be doing is
praying for them and finding ways to get involved if this burdens your heart. A
friend of mine volunteers in Thailand at RahabMinistries.com. This ministry is
set up in the middle of the sex industry in this town in Thailand. They rescue
women and teach them to make jewelry which is sold online. If you are in NW
Louisiana, I recommend you contact Cassie at the HUB Urban Ministries at
318-200-0517 or </span><a href="mailto:serve@thehubministry.com"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: Calibri;">serve@thehubministry.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">.
Cassie has a ministry called Purchased that ministers to women in the sex
industry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-38879624228960272522013-10-09T00:30:00.000-05:002013-10-09T00:30:04.888-05:00In Her Sandals -- Rahab
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I told the men I knew that their Lord, their Yahweh had
given them this land. Otherwise, people in the city would not be in such a
panic. People running around like a chicken with their head cut off. I really
had never seen it at this level before, almost frenzied. I had heard the
stories about these Israelite people walking on dry land through the Red Sea
and about how they destroyed other kings. I knew these things by listening to
the men who came into my home and from people in the market place. Some people
were skeptical about the walking through the Red Sea on dry land, but I wasn’t.
How amazing would that have been! I wonder if that’s how God is going to get
this group of people across the Jordan. I mean if He did it once, He can do it
again, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted to make sure that my family would be preserved and
safe when the time came for them to conquer my city. So I asked them to swear
to me by their God that they would spare our lives. “A life for a life.” I
promised to keep their secret, their mission under wraps and to preserve their
lives, and they would save my family’s lives. I couldn’t ask for more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is so scary but also so exciting. I lower the spies
outside my window outside the city wall. It’s the same crimson cord I’m to hang
in my window to signal the attacking army that my family is to remain unharmed.
I told them to head to the hills for three days until the searchers returned to
the city, and the spies headed in that direction. I knew I had at least three
days before anything would happen. What would I do in those three days that I’m
waiting for the inevitable to happen?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">None of us wander far from home. We secure what we can to
get us through the battle. We draw extra water and store inside the house. We
keep the animals close by because at the first sign of attack we are bringing
them in the house. I have boards to cover the windows. Grain that has been
milled and some that needs to be milled. There were times that my family just
sat in the quiet and the dark. I did not entertain any guest or have any
company. The door was bolted anytime someone left or re-entered. I can’t help
myself. I have to do something. I start sweeping and cleaning. All of my family
is with me just waiting. Tick tock. Tick tock. The hours just slowly go by. One
of my family members has chewed her fingernails down to the quick. We’re all just
waiting. I AM NOT GOOD AT WAITING, and then word comes that the Israelites are
on the move. I run to the window to make sure the crimson cord is still
prominently displayed. I see them! I see them! They’re coming. Oh my goodness,
they’re coming! Bring in the animals. Bolt the doors. Get in your spot by the
wall and under the tables. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I see a lot of warriors marching. I’m a little giddy. I’m so
excited – a nervous type of excitement. Then what appears to be priests blowing
trumpets. Then I see what must be what is called the Ark of the Covenant. Some
things you hear about. You never dream that one day you’ll actually see it. How
beautiful! And then there’s the rear guard. Well, that was kind of a letdown.
They marched around the city once. We waited for them to storm the city walls,
but nothing happened. What in the world are they doing? We keep the animals in,
and the door bolted just in case, but we can hear people panicking and yelling
outside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day two and once again in the early morning hours, they are
marching and blowing trumpets. For those who are not early morning people,
these trumpets fray the nerves. This time while I watch I wonder about Yahweh.
I know that He is able to do anything. I’ve heard the stories, but I wonder
what it would be like to hear from Him or worship Him with the others. What is
He trying to prove with all of this marching?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day three. I have to tell you things are starting to get
ripe up in here. We clean up every day getting rid of waste and all, but
there’s no air circulating, and people are starting to smell fragrant much less
the animals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day four. Is this the day they will do something more than
just march? People inside the walls are going mad, crazy. We are sleeping in
shifts, sharing beds and taking turns with watches at the window and on the
roof. Every time they march by, I’m swinging my crimson cord. I think to
myself, “Please see this cord. Please see this cord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day five and day six. I’ve lost any sense of what is going
on outside my home. Sometimes it’s loud. Sometimes it’s eerily quiet. And the
warriors of Yahweh march. Someone once told me Jericho is only about seven
acres with a circumference of 650 yards (1). I wonder if that Ark gets heavy. I
wonder how much the Ark of the Covenant weigh. Their march is so precise and
exact. It really is very impressive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day seven. Up again early and they are marching. Wait. I
start to walk away from the window, but I see that they’re marching again! At
the third time the noise outside my home has reached a fevered pitch. It’s
about to get all sort of real in here. The fourth and fifth times. We all get
into our secure places. No one is sleeping. No one is cleaning. I make sure the
crimson cord is in place. The sixth time around. Then the seventh is a cacophony
of sounds. Trumpets are blowing. People are yelling from outside the walls,
from inside the walls, and I think I may have yelled too. A wall to the city
collapsed, and the fighting had begun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When it was over, someone came and pounded on our door. I
have to admit I was fearful. Before I opened the door, my stomach was in knots,
the men identified themselves as the spies. I was immediately washed in relief
and cried tears of joy. My family had been spared. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My joy was short-lived as we carried our
things outside the city walls stepping over the corpses of acquaintances and
friends, animals and babies. Then we watched the city burn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-3974855597564611892013-10-07T00:30:00.000-05:002013-10-07T00:30:01.164-05:00In Her Sandals
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Let’s just get this out of the way. I know you stand there
judging me for what I do, for what I am, but you know what? It pays the bills,
and I didn’t have a lot of other opportunities here. Yes, I am a prostitute, a
hooker, a whore. Of course, when you say those labels it’s in hushed tones, and
you do that goofy thing with your eyes. You think you are whispering it to your
friend, but I can hear you. I can feel your eyes glaring a hole into me except
when I turn to look at you, you won’t look me in the face. You think you know
so much about me, but you don’t know me at all. And truth be known, I probably
know more about you, your home life and your man than you do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry for being so frank and brash, but
without even knowing me or my story, people judge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What you may not know is I have my own home. Some may even
call it an inn. And part of my house is actually built inside the city wall
fairly close to the city gate. If I see someone in need, if I think they’ll
accept my help, I extent my hand to help. I am a problem solver and a quick
thinker, and I’m wiser than you give me credit for. Never underestimate me. I
take care of my own. Not every person who enters my home is entertained as a
paying guest. Not every paying guest gives gifts. There are some who are not
allowed in my home. I have standards. Like I said, I’m a smart business woman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Right now, people around town are in a panic. Word on the
street is that we are going to be attacked in the near future. I’ve been trying
to buy up as much dry goods and things I’d need to survive the attack. I hate
battles. They’re gruesome and trying to find things to eat during and
afterwards is almost impossible. So I stock up on as much as I can. Whatever
gold or fine jewelry I have, I hide or sew into the clothes I’ll be wearing. I
try to keep my family close. There’s a lot of uncertainty. People are anxious
and with good reason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I listen to the people who enter my home, hear about what
they’ve experienced or heard. There is one story though that went down in
history. I opened my home to two non-paying customers. Did you catch that?
Non-paying. I was glad to. I could see they weren’t from around here. My guess,
which proved to be correct, was that these men were spies. Now, I’m used to
getting knocks on my door by all manner of people – military, law enforcement,
wives, spiritual leaders, and I’ve lied to them all at some point in time to
cover the paying client. I sent people on more goose chases than I care to
count. People are so gullible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was not surprised in the least that people came looking
for the two spies. That’s why I hid them as soon as they got there. I took them
to the roof where we were drying flax, and there we hid them beneath a pile of
flax. I have more than one job. I have to in order to provide for my parents and
siblings. I know it couldn’t have been the most comfortable place, but they
were not found. And that was the point. I got them situated when the knock on
the door came. After telling everyone to act natural, I put on my best face,
while I confidently answered the door. My heart was pounding. I knew they could
haul me in for treason and for harboring spies. Both of these charges would
cost me my life. After I listened to their proclamation from the king, I
explained that the men had been there but that I had sent them packing because
I didn’t know them. I gave them as innocent of a look as I could give.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told the soldiers that the men had sneaked
out the gate. I was so relieved when they left. I closed the door and bolted it
shut for the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once the men seeking
the spies had left the city to follow the lead I had provided, I went up to the
roof to talk to the spies. I have to tell you, there is something very exciting
about spies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I told the men I knew that their Lord, their Yahweh had
given them this land. Otherwise, people in the city would not be in such a
panic. I really had never seen it at this level before. I had heard the stories
about these people walking on dry land through the Red Sea and about how they
destroyed other kings. I knew these things by listening to the men who came into
my home and from people in the market place. Some people were skeptical about
the walking through the Red Sea on dry land, but I wasn’t. How amazing would
that have been! I wonder if that’s how God is going to get this group of people
across the Jordan. I mean if He did it once, He can do it again, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted to make sure that my family would be preserved and
safe when the time came to conquer my city. So I asked them to swear to me by
their God that they would spare our lives. “A life for a life.” I promised to
keep their secret, their mission under wraps and to preserve their lives, and
they would save my family’s lives. I couldn’t ask for more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-3304102367671478592013-10-05T00:30:00.000-05:002013-10-05T13:00:08.383-05:00Lot's Wife -- Lessons Learned in Her Sandals<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">WOW! Isn’t it so easy to get entrapped with the things of
this world? Prada, Gucci, Coach. Harley, Maserati, Corvette. Starbucks, top end
restaurants, and fine dining. The latest and greatest electronic gizmo, the
most recent iPhone/iPad, travel, concerts and venues. Some strive for it. Some
live for it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others envy from afar never
to achieve buying only knock-offs. Stepped on any toes yet? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lot and his wife had stuff. They had a lot of stuff. They
had so much stuff that they couldn’t keep track of it, and there were arguments
with Abraham’s servants as to what was Lot’s and what was Abraham’s. Lot chose
the prime real estate. Location. Location. Location. But the down side of the location
was the neighbors, neighbors, neighbors. The neighbors liked stuff too. They
liked all kinds of stuff. Stuff that Lot and his family had not been exposed to
prior to moving to that location. At first, they may have been shocked by what
they saw. Their skin may have even crawled at the things that they saw, but the
longer they lived around the sinful ways of these men, they began to accept it<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. I, personally, don’t do it, but who am I
to say that they shouldn’t live that way. They aren’t bothering me,</i> but
then the tables turn. They come and beat on your door and on your way of life
screaming to get at you, your children, your guests, at the holy ones. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Things/stuff and complacency is what tears this woman apart.
God spared this family for the sake of Abraham. This family was the only thing
that remotely resembled a righteous family, and their vision had been
obstructed and skewed by what they had allowed into their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It jumped out to me that the word “guests” was used when Lot
brought them home even though he knew they were angels. But the word “angels”
isn’t used again until they grab the hands of Lot and his family. I don’t know
if Lot’s wife really realized they were angels until then. We can become so
blinded or numb to the work of God that we don’t recognize it as such until He
has to lay his hands on us. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ever been there? YIKES! </i></b>What does it
take for God to get your attention? Have you become so numb and so blind to His
ways that you wouldn’t know them if they were banging on your own door!?
Seriously, it’s time for us to wake up. America is not a “BLESSED NATION.” We
are NOT God’s chosen. We are His redeemed but NOT His chosen. The gay lifestyle
is not okay with God. It isn’t something we should accept as normal and allow
into our homes and in the influence of our children. We also shouldn’t accept
extramarital affairs either or sex outside of marriage. God has spoken very
clearly on these things.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then there were the men beating on the doors trying to get
into the guests. These men were sick, sick, sick. They were dark spiritually
doing things that God had commanded them not to do, and when the time came, the
guests struck them blind. They were physically in the dark. Blind as a bat. The
door into the house could not be found by them. When Satan is banging on your
door wanting to come in, wanting to spread his darkness, you better be praying
that God hides the door. He doesn’t have to. After all, we put ourselves into
these predicaments most of the time, don’t we? Lot CHOSE to move his family
there. He knew before putting his family in the center of this degradation that
his family would be exposed, and yet, he chose it anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then there was permanent darkness. Fire and brimstone literally
fell from heaven like rain. Then keep in mind that sulfur is found naturally
around the Dead Sea near these towns and possibly in the towns as a solid. Fire
falling down like rain. Fire igniting up from the ground. In order for sulfur
to be a liquid it has to be 245 degrees and becomes acid rain. The gas alone is
toxic. The smell of sulfur permeates everything. It’s a smell that lingers in
the nose long after the sulfur has dissipated. The ash from all living things
being burned reminds me of what I saw on a movie about Auschwitz. Surrounding
towns may have thought it was snow there was so much coming down on them, but
it wasn’t. It was the remains of humans who died one of the most horrific kinds
of death. Everything consumed. Nothing was spared, not even a blade of grass.
There was no relief to be found. Ladies and gentlemen, that was hell on earth. The
sounds that must have arisen from that town must have been dreadful and
deafening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And here’s another point I want to make. The angel told Lot
to go to the mountains to be safe from all that was to come. Lot negotiated
what he thought was best, a little town near Sodom called Zoar. Zoar was
probably close enough that they could see Sodom from afar. The reason I think
that because they were able to walk there from right before dawn till sunrise.
The ash that fell probably poured down on Zoar. The smell of burning flesh and
hair, that rancid, disgusting smell would easily reach this town. Had Lot been
completely obedient to Yahweh, he would have been up in the mountains further
away. His exposure to ash and stench would have been considerably less. His
wife may not have heard the horrible, indescribable sounds, and maybe, just
maybe, she would not have turned around. Lot’s unwillingness to follow God’s
instruction to the letter cost him his wife and a closer exposure to the
atrocity that happened that day. OH MY WORD! Have you ever done that? Has God
ever told you or led you to do a certain thing, but you add your own touch to
it? Seriously!? I have, and then I wonder why it didn’t work out. DUH! God
knows what He’s doing and what He’s saying. His ways are higher than our ways
and His thoughts higher than ours (Is 55). He told Lot to go to the mountains
for LOT’S OWN GOOD.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then part of me wonders, was God turning Lot’s wife into
a pillar of salt an act of grace? He knew what she would have seen. He knew
what she saw would be something she would have to live with all her life. It
wouldn’t have been something she could’ve ever forgotten. As men who come back
from active combat in war. They never forget. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I apologize this is so long. There was just so much to
glean, and there’s really even more that can be learned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-406083903955640872013-10-02T00:30:00.000-05:002013-10-02T00:30:03.608-05:00In Her Sandals -- Lot's Wife (2nd blog)
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The
conversations that ensued that night were some of the strangest by far. Of
course, I wasn’t part of them, but I could hear what they were saying – not
that I was ease dropping. The guests told my husband that he needed to get his
family together and leave because Yahweh had sent them to destroy this place. Why
would Yahweh send them to destroy Sodom? Sure, they got a little out of hand
tonight, but really? He’s going to destroy the whole city? Then Lot went and
spoke to our future sons-in-law and told them the town was about to be
destroyed, and they would need to get their things together so we can leave.
Those bone-headed men thought Lot was joking! Who jokes about something like
that!? I mean it’s still hard for me to believe, but I would never joke about
such a thing. Lot and the guys talk most of the night, but he can’t convince
them to leave. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It had been
a sleepless, fretful, stressful night, and as the sun started peaking over the
walls of the city, it became evident that our guests were really angels. Why
had I not recognized that before? Lot had brought home guests who are really
angels, angels of the Most High God. I’m trying to process everything, but
nothing is making sense. I’m so confused. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, stress,
but why didn’t I see it before. They are telling us to go because they have a
job to do, and they can’t do it unless we are safely out. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Say what!?</i> One of them grabs my hand and grabs one of my daughter’s
hand. The other grabs Lot’s hand and our other daughter’s hand, and forcefully
leads us out of the city just as the sun rises from the east. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They tell us
to run. They tell us to go to the mountains because it just isn’t Sodom they
are going to destroy. It’s the whole Jordan plain. Run. I’m supposed to run to
the mountains, back to where Lot’s uncle lives. I can’t make it that far. I’ve
put on a few pounds since moving to Sodom. Sodom. There was this butcher who
kept his prime meat for me to buy on Wednesdays. My house servant made the best
bread. Today is Thursday. I’m going to miss my women’s league meeting. I look
down and realize I have on the same clothes as I did the day before. My stuff.
All my stuff is still in Sodom. The girls’ dowry is there. My heirlooms from my
mother and her mother. My silk tapestries. My designer shoes and bags and…It’s
all gone. Just like that. Gone. All these things are swirling through my head
at the same time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lot tells
the angels we just can’t make it to the mountains. I didn’t want to go running
back to his uncle anyway. Lot asks if we can just stay in Zoar. I don’t know
why but that makes me feel a little better. Zoar is a small community outside
of Sodom. Since we live on a plain, I will be able to make out Sodom on the
horizon. I can go back to Sodom in time. The angels instruct us not to look
back – do not turn back to Sodom. We enter Zoar, and the angels disappear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Morning has
come. We are safely in Zoar, this small, no-nothing town when we hear it. I
hear cracking and rumbling. Oh my heavens! The stench is rancid and so sudden. When
the wind blows, it’s horrible. I cover my mouth and nose with my clothes. We
aren’t far enough away. I hear them. It’s faint, but I recognize it
immediately, and I know my friends are in excruciating pain. All those people
in Sodom and animals screaming out in the most horrific sounds I’ve ever heard.
I don’t know that I’ll ever get that sound out of my ears. White stuff starts
flying through the sky. It’s ash. All my things, all of my life is going up in
smoke!? Really?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Why can’t we
turn back? Why can’t we see what’s going on? What’s going to happen if we do
take a peak? All these thoughts are bouncing around in my head at once, and I
hear a large collapse, and I turn…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the split
second that I saw Sodom, I saw the most horrific, gruesome thing. Fire coming
from heaven. Fire coming from the ground. People, babies, animals walking
around, dropping in heaps of fire. All the buildings were on fire. The trees
were on fire. There wasn’t anything that wasn’t on fire. I was hit by the smell
of burning, human flesh and sulfur. It was the quickest of glances, and then
nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-62288907573851716412013-09-30T01:00:00.000-05:002013-09-30T01:00:09.118-05:00In Her Sandals -- I Have the Top of the Line in Everything<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am used to having things, nice things, designer things,
the best of things. My husband has been blessed as well as his uncle. As a
matter of fact, we had to split the family business. My husband chose to take
our family to the best location. It is gorgeous and lush with waterways.
BEAUTIFUL!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The downside, and there’s always a downside, was the
neighbors. There’s drama everywhere we turn. Drama with family that caused the
business to split. Drama at our new location – For crying out loud, we get
captured! We are taken as spoils of war. I’ll become a servant or slave. I was
not made for that kind of work. Everything we had was taken, and by everything,
I mean down to the last candlestick and ugly rug that went under my husband’s
work bench was gone. But good ole uncle to the rescue. While our family had to
separate the business, family is still the most important thing in our uncle’s
eyes. We were released. Everything was returned to us…EVERYTHING. All my
jewelry, servants, designer clothes and specially made sandals, money, animals.
ALL MY STUFF was returned…even the ugly rug under my husband’s work bench. The
fact that everything was returned was no small miracle at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In addition to everything I have, my husband sits at the
gate – you know what that means, right? He’s in leadership. He’s in the know.
People recognize me when I go to the market. And because he is in leadership,
he knows everything that’s going on in town. I love hearing all the gossip. There
are some crazy things that go on in this town.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We have guest over all the time and parties. Our neighbors
really don’t seem quite so bad after all. They just had to grow on us is all.
There ways of doing things is nothing like ours, but we’ve made adjustments and
understand their thinking. We respect our differences. Just because they choose
to live a certain way doesn’t mean that I have to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One evening, Lot brought home two male guests. It was not a
normal visit, and it was certainly no party. They brought no gifts at all, and
of course, Lot didn’t send anyone ahead of time to let me know that we would be
having extra at the dinner table. It’s not like it was leftover night, but I
would have fixed something a little nicer had I but known we’d be having
company.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">No sooner had Lot brought the guests into our home than men,
young and old, started pounding on the door of our home. What in the world is
going on!? They were so loud I could barely hear myself think. I realized the
men outside want our guests to come outside, so they could have their way with
them. These people have never inflicted their sexual orientation on us before.
I mean we’ve made allowances, but now they are beating down our door. I AM
MORTIFIED! Our poor guests! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Just as I think that the door is about to give way, it
opens! My husband goes out to talk to the men. He has got to have lost his ever
lovin’ mind. The crowd is getting louder in their protest. The door opens again,
and the guests literally pick my husband up off his feet snatching him back
into our home, all in one swooping gesture. As I’m trying to process what I
just saw, I hear the chaos outside changing. Instead of voices raised in anger,
there’s confusion and disorder. The guests tell us the men outside have been
struck blind, and they won’t be able to find the door even if they tried. No
one will be entering our home tonight. And then they tell us, we have to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-439756622893144872013-09-27T01:00:00.000-05:002013-09-27T01:00:10.643-05:00In Her Sandals -- Job's Wife
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have grieved and grieved heavily for a baby that would not
be, and I have momma friends who have outlived one of their babies, but I’ve <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">NEVER</b> known a momma who has lost all
her children at one time. Once again, this is a woman whose sandals I didn’t
want to strap on, and when I did, I’m amazed at her strength and fortitude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Job’s wife was put through the ringer, wasn’t she? She was
sifted and tested alongside her husband. In everything that happened, her
husband did not sin against God, but truth be known, in all those years,
there’s only one time when his wife gave into weakness, into temptation. Isn’t
it amazing how we remember how a person fails as opposed to all the things she
must have endured and the times she must have succeeded. These tests didn’t
just happen over a couple of days. The effects of these tests lasted for years.
I’ve been around women who mourn and grieve, and you know, on average it takes
about four to five years for them to really come out of the dark to the other
side to realize that life goes on and that it’s okay to have joy without guilt.
Not only that, but God restored. He didn’t restore immediately. Job’s wife
didn’t birth ten babies at one time. It was over a span of years that He
restored, and He didn’t restore with the exact same children. Job and his
wife’s future while in God’s hands changed from one course to another. They
probably had their first group of kids when they were young parents. Now they
are ten to twenty years older making them a different kind of parent, and not
only did their age change, but their wisdom and trust in God had grown
exponentially. This has to affect the way they parented. Job’s wife’s life did
not end when her babies died. She probably wished it had at times. But as we
see it, Job’s wife had several seasons in her life: a season of blessing, a
season of loss and grief, and a season of restoration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Lord gives and He takes away (Job 1:21). Some people
don’t like the book of Job because they can’t fathom a God who would allow one
of his children to endure such hardship at the hands of Satan, and all because
Satan wanted to prove a point which I might add that he failed to do. I don’t
believe for one moment that God used Job as a source of entertainment or as a
wager with Satan. God knew that Job could withstand the testing and would put
defeat Satan’s theories. You see, we don’t fight against flesh and blood but
against principalities (Eph 6:12). God knew that Job with God by his side could
handle this test, could endure the hardship. God filtered everything that Job
endured. Our spiritual warfare is filtered through God’s fingers. We have to be
equipped and wearing the armor of God outlined in Ephesians 6. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes good things happen to God’s people. Sometimes bad
things happen to God’s people. We live in a fallen world. Expect it to happen,
but when the bad comes, where is your shield of faith? When thoughts that are
against God creep into your mind look for the helmet of salvation because we
are to think on the things that are true (Phil 4:8). And when waves after waves
of hardship pound on you so you feel like you are going to drown, hold tight to
the Word of God which is the sword. Job held tight to his breastplate of
righteousness, and you know what? He never got the answer to the question,
“why.” Job trusted God, and his wife saw that. She witnessed Job’s trust in
God. She benefited from his trust and faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then there are people in our lives who should be there to
support or encourage us, but end up doing the exact opposite. They honestly
feel like they are helping or know what’s going on. They make judgments and
give advice on their limited knowledge and understanding. Job prayed for those
friends. By praying for them, Job was heaping ashes on their heads. He was
lifting them up to his God. It is a step in forgiving, and it was after that
prayer that God started restoration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s the thing about Job’s wife, she stuck through thick
and thin. There’s no indication that the second set of children was born to a
different wife. Wife is used singularly throughout this book. She endured some
crazy hardships. And while there was a moment she wanted to her husband to give
up and die, the point is she was still there with him and even after her moment
of weakness and defeat. I’m sure there were days when she herself didn’t want
to go on, to get out of the bed, or to put one foot in front of the other, but
she did. And she did so to take care of her ailing husband. That, my friend, is
a woman of strength…In Job’s wife’s sandals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4117108679090927688.post-5957518921685044922013-09-25T01:30:00.000-05:002013-09-25T01:30:04.387-05:00In Her Sandals -- Job's Wife
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you haven’t read the prior blog about the woman whose
sandals I’m wearing, please do so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not sure what day it is, but I remember seeing Job.
There was something on his face. I go to him and begin examining him, and these
sores have spread all over him. I don’t remember crying, but I remember the
tears running down my face. Job had boils, painful, oozing boils. We start
trying to treat his boils. They are so painful. I’m not sure where I got the
strength to get out of my bed or the courage to face another day, but my
husband needed me, so I put one foot in front of the other. I take one breath
at a time. I don’t remember the last time I ate. I don’t remember the last time
I smiled. I don’t even want to think about laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve struggled with the deaths of all my children at one
time. Why couldn’t God just have taken me? Why did I have to live? Why did I
have to endure on this earth when my babies are in paradise? These thoughts
flood my mind, and I do my best to push them aside, so I can focus on Job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Job’s not eating and getting weaker. It’s hard for him to
breathe, and his skin smells of rotting flesh. We cleanse him as best we can,
but every touch is excruciating, and sometimes the odors is so strong I become
sick. This has gone on for days now. He’s lost so much weight, and the fever
leaves him weak and aching internally. I’m not sure just how much more either
of us can take. I can’t bear to see him shivering, aching, and writhing in pain
or smell his open wounds, and then it all just hits me. I never see it coming
either. I just feel it welling up inside me. I get mad. I get so very, very
mad. My kids were good kids. They didn’t deserve to die. My husband is the
kindest, honest, God-fearing man I know. He doesn’t deserve this. And why on
God’s green earth am I still here! I want to be with my kids. Why am I healthy
and left to take care of Job by myself? I’m angry. There’s no rhyme or reason
to any of this. I can’t make sense of it. I try and try. I pray. I beg God. I
plead with God, but I get nothing. In my frustration and grief I blurt out to
Job, “Why don’t you just curse God and die!?” UGGGHHH!!! Have you ever felt if
you didn’t say something that you’d just burst. It’s like that. Just curse God
and die.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As soon as the words tumble out of my mouth, I knew they
were wrong, and so did Job. He said I sounded foolish. People judge me harshly
for those words. I was there for Job in the darkest of the dark, but I’m human.
I’m scared. I mean what would happen to me if Job died? I’m exhausted from
taking care of Job 24/7. I’m depressed and numb. I just don’t know how much
more we can take. I didn’t support Job as I needed to at this time, but I had
no more to give. I’m empty. Done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">People come to visit. They bring food, and all Job can do is
sit quietly in ashes. He won’t eat. He doesn’t speak. He’s in such a dark
place, and I go to my room to be alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Job has company that just sit with him and wait with him.
Eventually, Job does speak, and I am relieved. But then his friends start
telling him to repent. Really? Do they not know my husband? My husband who
makes atonement and sacrifices for himself and on behalf of our children just
in case we sinned and didn’t even know it. He wants my husband to repent. I
have to leave. Job will have to handle his friend because if I stay I will
probably say things that I shouldn’t – a LOT of things I shouldn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband was tested which means we were tested. We are
husband and wife. We are a team. We raised our children together. We lived life
together. Whatever happened to him, happened to me. That’s just the way life is
with us. When God blessed Job, He blessed me as well. When catastrophe hit, it
hit us both. We may handle our grief differently. We may be in different places
with our emotions and healing, but we are still husband and wife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My life was a fairytale. There isn’t a day that the name of
every child of mine doesn’t cross my mind or my lips. I will never forget them.
How can I? I gave birth to them. I weaned them. I nursed them when they were
ill. I disciplined them when they were in trouble. My arms have never felt so
empty nor silence ever sounded so loudly. We have our good days, and we have
our bad days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Job’s friends finally leavet. I know I need to forgive them
and their ignorance and doubt. After all, Job forgave me in my ignorance and
doubt. We are coming out of the dark, and although I’m scared sometimes about
what will happen next, I know that we can make it. I know now that I was never
really in control, and whatever happens will happen, but God is faithful. And
Job is faithful. He’s faithful to His God and to me. After all these years, I
have reason to believe I’m pregnant for the eleventh time. This baby will never
replace the ones I lost, but he or she will fill my arms, warm my heart, and I
will smile again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Train Up a Child -- Encouragement for Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16517029174039421850noreply@blogger.com0