Stuffing a sock in it

A few mornings ago, I felt cold air pouring into the entryway. I couldn’t figure out where it originated. I had pushed a towel in front of front door to cover gaps between door sweep and threshold, but my feet still felt a horrendous cold spot. I searched for the source and found that the door frame had slightly warped next to the north sidelight. The warping had left about an 1/8-inch gap between bottom of door frame and sidelight frame. Gap narrowed as it went up before closing about a foot above the floor.

I cut up some of my old socks and shoved them into this gap with a metal ruler. I could feel the cold retreat as I plugged the hole. I was determined to stuff enough socks into the hole to completely plug it. This process took about half an hour. Oh, the perils of owning an old house!

As I shoved the socks into this hole, I thought of Ezekiel 22:30: “I [God] looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none.”

What a sad verse! “… but I found none.” What an indictment!

As I considered this verse, I thought about my gap-plugging tools. Is anything less glamorous than old socks from the rag bin? They appeared to be at the end of their useful life, only to be used in a very critical role, keeping subzero temperatures outside instead of inside. Their role is no longer as public as covering my feet, but still very useful to keep us warm.

Do we ever think that we are too worn out for God’s service, languishing in the rag bin, one step from the landfill? Maybe we’re on the shelf and maybe feel that we’ve been forgotten. Then our new role opens and we are used again. God plugs us into the gap and uses us again for His glory. What a privilege!

Whose gap do you stand in?

The Gift of Christmas Is Jesus

My friend Martha is amazingly creative. To decorate five of our church’s windows for Christmas, she found a theme, then asked me to design each window using that theme.

The local lumber yard cut foam insulation sheeting to size for her, then she affixed 1x1 boards to each end for hooks. She wrapped the boards in Christmas wrapping paper. Once I emailed her the designs, she printed them on transparencies, projected them on the wall and cut out the silhouettes from a different roll of wrapping paper. She and Kim glued them on according to my design.

Martha bought white contact paper for the letters. I cut the letters with a Cricut machine and placed them on the wrapped board. Even using a yardstick, I couldn’t lay them exactly straight. I was frustrated. Hubby asked, “Do you want them to look handmade or as if some machine had made those posters?” I felt better.

We hung them with a chain from hooks in the ceiling.

Wendy had made beautiful, lighted flower arrangements for the entryway. Our church building is still under construction and the ugly construction materials were visible behind those arrangements. So Martha brought backdrops and hung fabric on them to hide the ugliness.

Our tree looked ready for the landfill, but she rescued it, too. Winding garland between the branches filled in the tree, vastly improving its appearance.

I love her ideas.

We are conveying the true message of Christmas to passers-by in a beautiful fashion. Jesus is the true Gift of Christmas. All other gifts are shadows of His great Gift to save us all. We only have to accept that gift, the gift of eternal life.

Among the innumerable stars

The stars were very numerous and bright at Stone Cottage Farm. Even in our small town, the street lights obscure the stars. But there, nestled in the hills miles from any town, the stars shine unimpeded by any man-made light.

J.R.R. Tolkien’s words in The Silmarillion
came to mind while I was looking upward: “…the Kingdom of Earth amid the innumerable stars.” I was seeing the stars somewhat like Abraham did when God promised to give him descendants like the stars in the heavens. “‘He (God) took him (Abraham) outside and said, ‘Look up at the heavens and count the stars — if indeed you can count them.’ Then He said to him, ‘So shall your offspring be.’” - Gen. 15:5

Because the house’s thick stone walls drown out most noise, staying there is an oasis of quiet.

I sat in that lawn chair in the picture for awhile and read. I could feel myself unwinding.

Beautiful scenery, interesting books and innumerable stars: A recipe for relaxing. Next time we stay there, and I intend to have a next time, I look forward to laying in their hammock to stargaze.

Abraham and J.R.R. Tolkien make good company.

Through a glass darkly

For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been fully and clearly known and understood [by God]. – I Cor. 13:12 (Amplified)

I caught my dim reflection in window laying on the floor in an abandoned house.

According to I Corinthians, this dim reflection is what we understand about ourselves, each other and our lives. We see only a miniscule bit of the big picture. Our lives are like a giant tapestry of which we only see a infinitesimal slice. And we only see the underside of that slice.

Only God sees “the big picture”. Only He knows “the end from the beginning”.

Tony Snow, George Bush’s late Press Secretary, wrote “…God relishes surprise. We want lives of simple, predictable ease — smooth, even trails as far as the eye can see — but God likes to go off-road. He provokes us with twists and turns. He places us in predicaments that seem to defy our endurance and comprehension — and yet don’t. By his love and grace, we persevere. The challenges that make our hearts leap and stomachs churn invariably strengthen our faith and grant measures of wisdom and joy we would not experience otherwise.…”

Just like Tony Snow, I’d greatly prefer a straight, level, predictable road through life. A road where we can see every step far into the distance. No dark valleys. No tortuous inclines. Plenty of money, perfect health for me and those I love, no grief, no pain, no frustration.

And then I’d think I could live life on my own terms, that I didn’t need God or anyone else.

Adversity could be called “growing pains”. Faith does not grow on level roads. It grows in dark, tight, mountainous places. Places where the glass is indeed dim and God’s purposes are beyond opaque. Places that I can only navigate by the grace of God.

What need would we have to trust if we could see everything? What need would we have for grace if we could walk alone?

Someday I will stand in the blazing light of Heaven. I will “know as I am known”. Until then, God intends to build my faith muscles through struggle and adversity.

It'll Do

We thought this was a great name for a motel. Yes, it’s no five-star Ritz Carlton, but it’s shelter and a bed. Sometimes, shelter and a bed is all we’re going to get.

“But godliness with contentment is great gain.” – I Tim. 6:6

Stay on the track

We have a wayward sprinkler. That tractor often jumps the guiding hose and goes wherever it pleases.

The last time I watered, I caught it heading straight for the street, not once, but twice. Blessedly for everyone, it had gotten the tip of an arm caught on an obstacle both times. I would hate to think of the liability we could incur if our sprinkler ran into the street.

Didn’t it listen to its mother? “How many times have I told you not to play in the street?”

I just want the sprinkler to follow the very clear path I’ve set for it and do its job on this planet. Just spread water on the grass and gardens — not the sidewalks, not the street. That’s all I’m asking it to do. It has all the direction, all the power and all the equipment necessary to do its job, but it tends to be wayward and disobedient.

I get so aggravated when I have to rescue it and set it back on the proper path. I want to tell it, “Can’t you just follow the path I’ve lain out for you?”

The last time I picked up that sprinkler and replaced it where it belonged, I realized that I am often just like my annoying sprinkler.

My Savior tells me, “This is the way; walk in it.”

And I do – for awhile. Then I get alarming tendencies to jump the guidance hose and wander willy-nilly. How many times have I been saved by an obstacle he has placed in my path to stop me from going headlong into catastrophe? How many times has He had to pick me up and put me back on the right track? How many times have I missed an opportunity to spread Living Water in the right place because I was wandering instead of working?

Does He get as aggravated as I do when my sprinkler does what it shouldn’t be doing? Does He sigh in exasperation as I do when I find that my sprinkler has taken a useless path instead of being of service?

He must have a lot more patience with me than I do with my sprinkler. I’m so grateful for that. I’m so thankful that His mercies are new every morning and that His faithfulness is unbounded.

So next time I see that my sprinkler has jumped the track, I’ll try to examine myself to see where I’ve jumped off track.

Solomon and the lilies

As I looked at my blooming lilies, this passage came to mind: "Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!" (Luke 12:26-28)

I confess to being a worrier. Faith and trust come hard.

Looking at my lilies reminds me that my Father cares for me just as I tend my flowers. I weed and water them, mulch and fertilize them. Their welfare is my responsibility. Flowering is their responsibility.

So it is with my Father. He tends me so that I may flower and produce fruit.

Why am I borrowing trouble and carrying responsibilities that are not mine to bear?

My Heavenly Father beckons me to give my worries to Him.

I wish I only had to do that once, that all concerns would vanish the first time I confessed my worrying. Such is not the case. I must repeatedly hand over my worries. Just as I build physical muscle through exercise, I build spiritual muscle through exercising discipline over my mind.

Worrying makes my flowers diseased and wilted. I want to produce beautiful flowers, so I must turn over my worries to the One who cares for me.

Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you. (I Peter 5:7)

Absalom's hair

My hair caught on a branch as I was mowing under a tree this morning. That hurt! I had to struggle to escape. I tried shaking off the branch, but it wouldn't release me.

I didn't want to let go of the mower because I didn't want to restart it. Wasn't that ridiculous?

I must have looked ridiculous, too. Hanging by the hair in a strange, very uncomfortable crouch while hanging onto the mower. Not a pretty picture. I hope the homeowner wasn't looking out the window.

Finally, I let go of the mower and used both hands to untangle my hair. I could feel my hair standing up on top and in back. I must have looked as if I'd seen a ghost. I had no comb to undo the knots.

When we returned to headquarters, I hurriedly put on my hat to cover up my frightful hairdo.

While hooked to the tree, I felt like Absalom in the Bible when he rebelled against his father, King David.

II Samuel 18:9 and 14: "Now Absalom happened to meet David's men. He was riding his mule, and as the mule went under the thick branches of a large oak, Absalom's head got caught in the tree. He was left hanging in midair, while the mule he was riding kept on going.

[Joab, David's general] took three javelins in his hand and plunged them into Absalom's heart while Absalom was still alive in the oak tree. And ten of Joab's armor-bearers surrounded Absalom, struck him and killed him."

Ironically, Absalom was considered to be the most handsome man in the kingdom and he was very vain about his long, beautiful hair. His vanity became his downfall.

Luckily for me, the tree was the only enemy. I didn't have an angry general who wanted to stab me through the heart.

As I was looking for illustrations to go with this post, I found this one on "One Year Bible Blog", a blog that features daily devotions and a one-year Bible study reading plan.

I don't know where the blogger found this image, but it reminds me of a still from a bad silent movie. Look at the heavy black makeup around Absalom's eyes! And check out the art deco costumes.

'Pesky ants' yield character

Peony: Could you please get rid of these ants that are crawling on me? Spray them with insecticide and kill them! I hate the way their feet feel on my buds. The feel of their mandibles crunching away on my pretty shiny bud coating is just grotesque. It makes my leaves crawl. Please do something before I die of the heebie jeebies!

Master Gardener: Silence.

Peony: Are you listening to me? I hate these ants. They are bothering me. Why won’t you do something?

Master Gardener: Silence.

Peony: Hello! Where are you? I’d like you to lose the ants for me. It’s not like I can brush them off or spray them myself!

Master Gardener: Silence.

Peony: I have so many buds this year. I’m going to bear beautiful blossoms – if I could only get rid of these pesky ants! How is a girl to make flowers when she’s being crawled upon?

Master Gardener: Silence.

Peony: My buds are popping open. Aren’t they beautiful? I just love the color and fragrance. I’m so pleased to make these beautiful flowers!

Master Gardener: You see, Peony, the nice shiny coating you had over your buds often keeps them from blooming. Those “pesky ants” ate that coating just as I intended them to do when I created you and when I created them. Your shiny coating is part of My provision for those “pesky ants”. And the “pesky ants” are part of My provision for you.
While you thought I was ignoring you, I was enabling you to be the plant I intended you to be. You were made to produce beautiful blossoms, but you couldn’t do it alone. You needed the trial of those “pesky ants” to open your blossoms.
Remember how I pruned you? How you complained! “That hurts! Stop that!” you cried. But I had to prune off the dead stalks for you to thrive this spring. I had to sprinkle you with that Bordeaux mix that made you sneeze.
But your life hasn’t all been ants, pruning and Bordeaux mix. Who watered you? Who put up a wire hoop to support those beautiful blossoms?
I did.
When you thought I was ignoring you, I was right there tending you.
And now you are fulfilling your purpose with your beautiful, fragrant blooms. Weren’t the pain and annoyance worth the price?

Peony: Yes, Lord, it was worth the price.

The servant's ear

My friend the nurse practitioner treated a badly infected ear a few days ago. The physician with whom she works examined it and said that the infection needed to be lanced.

Looking at the ear reminded the doctor of Luke 22:49-51 (New International Version). Roman soldiers and others came to the Garden of Gethsemane to arrest Jesus. "When Jesus' followers saw what was going to happen, they said, 'Lord, should we strike with our swords?' And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his right ear.

"But Jesus answered, 'No more of this! And he touched the man's ear and healed him."

Doctor said that not only did Jesus heal the man’s ear, he preserved the servant’s job. Lev. 21:17 and 22-23 say, "Say to Aaron: 'For the generations to come none of your descendants who has a defect may come near to offer the food of his God. … He may eat the most holy food of his God, as well as the holy food; yet because of his defect, he must not go near the curtain or approach the altar, and so desecrate my sanctuary. I am the LORD, who makes them holy. ' "

Because of this command, a man with a missing ear could not have come near the altar of God.

Jesus restored the servant’s ear to preserve his position, but he has done so much more for us. We serve the High Priest, Jesus Christ (Heb. 21-22): [H]e became a priest with an oath when God said to him: "The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind: 'You are a priest forever.' "Because of this oath, Jesus has become the guarantee of a better covenant.”

But not only do we serve him, we are also priests under him. I Peter 2:9-10: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.”

How can we, the imperfect humans that we are, become faultless priests?

Because our acceptance of Christ’s sacrifice has made us perfect.

Have you accepted that sacrifice?

If not, please do so today.

Windows and doors part II

The few strands of wood hanging down from this frame make me think of strands of hair falling into the window's eyes. The sky dominates the landscape here on the High Plains. Many of the early settlers felt oppressed by the sky's vast expanse. The shed and window frame humanize the sky's scale, but only slightly.

Beneath our vast dome, we can find it easy to feel like ants on the cosmic scale. And I suppose we are. But our Heavenly Father finds us unbelievably precious.

Precious in His sight.

Precious enough to send His Son to die for us.

For those who have a relationship with His Son, Jesus Christ, the universe is a friendly place, no matter its vastness.