Don't Just Wait!

I remember during college, I attended a play called Waiting For Godot https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_for_Godot . It was so boring!!! I was waiting for it to end. I spent my time thinking of other things and and my mind wandered to many other things. As I looked around, I was kind of surprised I was the only one not intrigued by the two characters throughout the play. I never understood what that play was even about as it took soooo long to get to the point!

Today I thought about the disciples waiting in the Upper Room as Jesus instructed them to not leave Jerusalem (Acts 1:4). I wondered how they felt sitting there together waiting. Did it feel like the time spent waiting seemed like forever? Were they excited? Clearly, they understood that Jesus did not tell them to wait and do nothing. They prayed (Acts 1:14) as well as got busy picking a new disciple as the Word tells us in Acts 1:26.

No doubt it was a highlight of their entire lives when the Holy Spirit descended upon them (Acts 2-1-4)! Can you even imagine it? No doubt they paced, but they were praying too. They were preparing. They were purposeful - and productive.

During our August Springs For Life https://springsoflife7.wixsite.com/john414 Tuesday evening time of prayer, my sister in Christ Fay me of Ecclesiastes 3. It is so good I have to share it here and now!

A Time for Everything

1For everything there is a season,

a time for every activity under heaven.

2A time to be born and a time to die.

A time to plant and a time to harvest.

3A time to kill and a time to heal.

A time to tear down and a time to build up.

4A time to cry and a time to laugh.

A time to grieve and a time to dance.

5A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.

A time to embrace and a time to turn away.

6A time to search and a time to quit searching.

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

7A time to tear and a time to mend.

A time to be quiet and a time to speak.

8A time to love and a time to hate.

A time for war and a time for peace.

9What do people really get for all their hard work? 10I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. 11Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. 12So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. 13And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.

14And I know that whatever God does is final. Nothing can be added to it or taken from it. God’s purpose is that people should fear him. 15What is happening now has happened before, and what will happen in the future has happened before, because God makes the same things happen over and over again.

The Injustices of Life

16I also noticed that under the sun there is evil in the courtroom. Yes, even the courts of law are corrupt! 17I said to myself, “In due season God will judge everyone, both good and bad, for all their deeds.”

18I also thought about the human condition—how God proves to people that they are like animals. 19For people and animals share the same fate—both breathea and both must die. So people have no real advantage over the animals. How meaningless! 20Both go to the same place—they came from dust and they return to dust. 21For who can prove that the human spirit goes up and the spirit of animals goes down into the earth?22So I saw that there is nothing better for people than to be happy in their work. That is our lot in life. And no one can bring us back to see what happens after we die.

---

Footnotes:
a3:19 Or both have the same spirit.

Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 

by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 

Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

Bible Hub

In this recent past season of my life, God had been allowing me to have a struggle with hot flashes. I know, I know, this is part of Perimenopause! However, I had been managing it with supplements quite well but unfortunately had tried a different supplement which did not work so well for my thyroid. And so, my hair started to fall out and worse than that, I was restless every night with hot and cold and just sleepless nights. The second week into this "season", I just surrendered to trying to sleep at all. With my 8 animals snoring around me and my hubby deep in sleep, I determined instead of being upset that I was awake and alone, I prayed. 

I prayed for so many needs and when I ran out of people to pray for, I asked God to bring needs to mind. I actually fell asleep about 4:30 every morning after being woken just about the same time every night at 2:00 am. The funny part is that when I initially went to bed, I slept soundly for about 4 hours. Looking back, I see God was giving me enough rest to wake me up so that I could lift others up. I also realized I was not praying for myself. Yes, I prayed for everyone but myself. In the wee morning hours one day, God taught me that I must pray for myself as well as others.

Now having good sleep, looking back - I know that this was a blessing. For I had been waiting to go back to sleep every night for two weeks without thinking of anyone but myself. And how I would be tired in the morning. Instead I learned to actually pray for myself and others. And I was never tired in the morning after that but fully refreshed and with a pep in my step!

I encourage you if you are in a season of waiting on God for no matter what - - that you get busy praying. Talk to God out loud even if you can. Like a friend. But He is so much more. And He will share with you in the waiting How Wonderful, How Magnificent He is! Yeah, counting sheep sounds like the solution, but really - - so much more can come out of spending time in prayer - - - while you wait.

Dear God,

Thank you for teaching us while we wait that we can be focused on others in prayer. Thank you for allowing us to be excited about seasons of waiting - whether it is waiting to fall asleep, waiting for a bus or waiting for something which is not fun to end. So many of us struggle while we wait when You have given us waiting as a time to reveal  Your handiwork in each of our lives. That we would not waste time but redeem the time - no matter in the early am hours, in college or in the days of old in Pentecost as in Acts. We love you Lord and are so grateful You love us right back! In Jesus Name, Amen. And Amen.

Please consider joining Springs Of Life (S.O.L) for monthly prayer. We meet via Zoom.us monthly on the second Tuesday of each week for 30 minutes beginning promptly at 7:00 pm est. For more information please visit www.bluewaterbro.com and see the Springs Of Life link on the homepage or visit us directly at https://springsoflife7.wixsite.com/john414

The Shirt Off My Back

Almost 20 years ago, I found the Lord at a small church in Pompano Beach, Florida. Because it was a traditional hometown church, I was encouraged to join the Women's Bible Study. I showed up that first morning and was embraced by one woman who had cut out a bunch of Bible verses and had magazines and papers for me. At the end of the Bible Study (almost everything went right over my head because I had very little understanding at that time), one elderly woman announced that their dear sister who had just passed had instructed in her last will and testament that she wanted the women of this church to enjoy her possessions.

I did not know this woman who had passed, but I was the first to approach the mountain of clothes. So many colors and beautiful accessories! I do not remember much about that day except the itens I was given. I do remember one woman commenting that their friend would have been happy knowing that I had joy in seeing all of her wonderful blouses, sweaters, scarves and handbags. I did take several items home that day because this woman knew how to accessorize!

The gifts that day long ago made an impression upon me not just in a materialistic way but because the event became less about the clothes and more about the character of the woman that had passed. I watched as the women cried and laughed and then laughed and cried as they held each item up. They remembered different events in which this saint had worn these items. These women remembered!

This memory caused me pause today as I packed up our mountain of Christmas ornaments (yes - Christmas was 2 months ago and this mountain represented procrastination!)

I realized today that I can also give my items to the women in my Bible Study. Check. I can see their faces now! Laughing about this and that and just having fun being alive. My friends are much younger than the women were at my first church. Those women were a bit reserved but got a bit rowdy at times and they also were enjoying my vim and vigor (I was the only one without gray hair) at seeing all of these fun items in one place there for the taking.

I felt good knowing this would be possible for me to arrange as well. However, I began to brainstorm about other areas of my life in which I could bless someone long after I entered Glory. Imagine opening my box of Christmas ornaments and seeing a Scripture and a note about the item! Imagine a note to the person opening the box! Inviting them to enjoy the items and passing them along to their children! A note about the $14.00 (including shipping) artificial Christmas Tree that I bought on Ebay one year and proudly decorated on into my 70's!

I thought about other areas of my every day living. And my pondering led to the Lord's still small voice convicting me of my procrastination with my paperwork and cluttered areas of my closets and my office. Do you live every day as if it is your last? Do you live every day as if your legacy would give joy if someone stumbled upon these things? Do you spend time in making your day count?

Ahhh Lord! I do not. I do not act when You prompt me to act. I do not knock on that door when I feel like being a couch potato. I avoid that situation because it may become painful. I do the comfortable lazy things and put off the To Do's for another day. I am truly sorry. Please change, mold me and make me more like You.

Relief. Cleansing. God's Holy Spirit shower of love....

After confessing this, I remembered another situation in which someone had blessed me almost 20 years ago as well. I had spoken to my neighbor Linda about not having silverware or dishes. I am not sure why I didn't have these items but I mentioned this to her. I opened my front door the next morning and there were stacks and stacks of plates, a box of silverware, mugs, monkey dishes and little knick knacks and fun things! She did not even tell me that she left those items there but I eventually found out and was blessed in so many ways by her kindness. She told me that the very next day after I had mentioned this to her these items came to her. I remember seeing the excitement in her eyes as she shared how she came upon the very items that I had told her I needed and she knew these items were for me. I understand now that she had seen God in this situation and so in faith she followed through and delivered these items to my front door. I get it now.

She was a Christian. She seemed like such a kind person and  yet I did not engage with her too much as I was in transition stepping closer to the Lord and not yet aware of the legacy she had left me. I still have the white monkey dishes in my cabinet. Every time I use them I smile because these dishes represent Linda. Her act of kindness continues today because of the memory she gave me!

On a more somber note. Some would pity me in not having children to leave my items to and I understand this. I lived a pity party every day for many many years. But, I have overcome this sad reality and am now choosing to live a life of blooming where I am planted. I will bless others because God has planned this for me to do even before the foundation of the world. I am no longer kicking and screaming at the goads because of not having children, but dwelling in obedience. Had to kick the goads first tho!

I take so much joy in knowing that God had me go into my garage today and decide to plow through the mountain of ornaments. I am truly going to make a special blessing for someone who opens that box. I have other inspiration plans in motion now as well.

One day I will give not only the shirt off my back, but my shoes, my handbags, all of my jewelry, my home, our car, our animals and so much more! I hope whomever receives these worldly possessions will take joy in the gifts I plan to give. I hope my legacy will ignite in someone else the same legacy which that woman I never met did and the same joy my neighbor Linda did. You just never know who you will affect by living your life for God. Giving the shirt off your back and so much more will leave marks on hearts you may never meet and on neighbors you will never run into again! Do it! Joy is to be shared.

Gotta go now and tackle that mountain of paperwork in my office (no one will want me to leave them my bills and accounting paperwork to file). Hmmm possibly I can leave a note on each year's tax return about God meeting our financial needs. The possibilities are truly endless....

We Can't All Be Monarchs!

Oh I am blessed! I have available to me two hours every other week in which I volunteer at Sugar Sand Park in Boca Raton, FL. I am a Butterfly Garden Guardian! Who would have ever thought this Jersey girl turned Floridian would dig and plant, re-plant and chat away with flowery faces in a garden all year round?

Growing up, I had a dream one day of becoming a Horticulturist. But that did not happen. I became a Culinary Arts/Hospitality major instead.

I remember the white metal plant card my Grampop gave me one year for Christmas. My dad assembled it mumbling that it was a waste of time because he assumed I would soon tire of this gift like I did with all the other childhood toys I had acquired in my young life. When most 7-year-olds were listing Barbies and plastic mini kitchenettes on their "I've been good" list for Santa, I was begging for a watering can and plant cart.

The plant cart was set up. I did not receive potting soil for Christmas, though. I remember going out into our backyard, with  my winter coat and mittens in search of some dirt I could dig up from the frozen ground. I stabbed at that lifeless Terra-firma until a few caked pieces of dry dirt encased in ice were placed into my black plastic pot. I placed a saucer underneath, plunked the pot down on the cart and went back out in search of another pot, saucer and spot of land in which to repeat the arduous task.

I did not have seeds, plants or anything to place in these pots, which now sadly sat (sans plant life) on the white metal cart in my bedroom. And so, I cut a piece from the hanging Wandering Jew plant (which my Grampop mostly likely bought me!) that hung over the doorway to my alcove on the way to the attic. I snuck a glass from the kitchen (later got caught and had to replace that glass with a pickle jar) and patiently waited for that Wandering Jew to root. And it did! I propagated many plants from that one sickly Wandering Jew hanging basket. My white metal plant cart soon held many black plastic pots with dusty hard caked mud with Wandering Jews. As I sit here now and think back about those days of carefully tending my "garden", I am slightly regretful. I had done everything alone. I could have learned so much about the plant which held a name which I now know had Biblical significance. Alas, fast forward to today.....

I am standing in the middle of Sugar Sand Park being given a beautiful gift and card signed by staff members of the park. These three special people made up an international holiday which they called "International Butterfly Garden Volunteers Week" (or something like that) in order to bless me and show appreciation for my time in the garden volunteering. They gave me a purple shirt (my fav color) which listed "Advice from a Monarch" on the front along with a picture of a Monarch. The advice was so good but my favorite was the very last line, "We can't all be Monarchs!".

And so, I was convicted. God, I was never created to be a Monarch. I was instead made to be a White Peacock Butterfly or Yellow Sulphur! I was set apart for Your purposes to do Your work. Whether I am alone or with wonderful people like those as Sugar Sand - You see me. You give me JOY. You put a song in my heart and a smile on my lips and the voice I hear in stillness is Yours. As I weed and water and wonder - - as I sit and look up into the Slash Pine hammock overheard, you send Zebra Longwings and even Banana Spiders to intrigue me. I do not see the possibility of a sting when I see the deadly creepy crawly creatures (or bees pollinating two inches from where I prune), but instead I observe an intricately woven crystal dew drop design - a glimpse of the beauty of my Creator - - who wants me to see the magnificence of His design no matter where I am.

After moving to Florida, I remember walking one day through my neighborhood. I was quite shocked to see an entire lawn of Wandering Jews! There were even variegated varieties!!! I took a picture. I could not even believe my eyes and I did say aloud, "You are too funny, God. I spent how many arduous days and nites trying to keep one tendril of a Wandering Jew alive in a pot filled with caked lifeless dirt - - and here these grow as weeds. Ha ha ha God!"

If I were a Monarch, I may have missed God's humor. I may have just blindly followed the leader all my life and just migrated through every season without being rebellious and then not being the prodigal and missing out on so many miracles because I left and then came home. I would no doubt have become boring. My nickname would not be "Flower Child" and my favorite color would possibly be black! But it's not. I bucked the system. I flew above flowers I could have easily landed on. I took a different flight....

Yes, though I volunteer at a butterfly garden, I have also expanded my personal "white plant cart" a bit. My garden has grown.  The soil is no longer depleted or chemical laden. I actually have delved into Vermiculture and have worm friends that rely on me for food. We have Gulf Fritallaries, Yellow Sulphur, Giant Swallowtail, White Peacocks - - and of course we always have Monarchs. My neighbor came over recently and as she held the baby Milkweed sproutlings and baby Monarch catepillar I was sending her home with- she looked at me and exclaimed, "You are like a Buddhist!"

I looked at her and said, "I was not a Monarch in a former life and certainly have not and will not come back as a Monarch in my next life. This is my one and only life this side of Heaven. Not a Buddhist. I am a born again Christian. I realized my need for a Savior when Eve in the Garden made a very bad choice. It all started in the garden. Sin. And now I realize just because sin entered man in the garden, the garden does not have to be a place of death. Instead, we bring life to the garden. The Master Gardener is God."

She had questions. We sat in the shade. I continued the conversation by asking her if she would like to hear about my white metal plant cart. She did. She also listened as I shared my Wandering Jew crusade. I didn't have any Wandering Jew to send her home with, though. Those plants are everywhere by the roadside here in South Florida.Some consider those plants weeds. I like to think of them as humble beginnings for greater growth.

There is relationship in the garden. God knew what He was doing when He created the very first garden. He also knew what He was doing when He made my Grampop buy me that white metal plant cart. I am grateful - - even though I will never be a Monarch!

Isaiah 58 (NLT)

1“Shout with the voice of a trumpet blast.

Shout aloud! Don’t be timid.

Tell my people Israel^a of their sins!

2Yet they act so pious!

They come to the Temple every day

and seem delighted to learn all about me.

They act like a righteous nation

that would never abandon the laws of its God.

They ask me to take action on their behalf,

pretending they want to be near me.

3‘We have fasted before you!’ they say.

‘Why aren’t you impressed?

We have been very hard on ourselves,

and you don’t even notice it!’

“I will tell you why!” I respond.

“It’s because you are fasting to please yourselves.

Even while you fast,

you keep oppressing your workers.

4What good is fasting

when you keep on fighting and quarreling?

This kind of fasting

will never get you anywhere with me.

5You humble yourselves

by going through the motions of penance,

bowing your heads

like reeds bending in the wind.

You dress in burlap

and cover yourselves with ashes.

Is this what you call fasting?

Do you really think this will please the Lord?

6“No, this is the kind of fasting I want:

Free those who are wrongly imprisoned;

lighten the burden of those who work for you.

Let the oppressed go free,

and remove the chains that bind people.

7Share your food with the hungry,

and give shelter to the homeless.

Give clothes to those who need them,

and do not hide from relatives who need your help.

8“Then your salvation will come like the dawn,

and your wounds will quickly heal.

Your godliness will lead you forward,

and the glory of the Lord will protect you from behind.

9Then when you call, the Lord will answer.

‘Yes, I am here,’ he will quickly reply.

“Remove the heavy yoke of oppression.

Stop pointing your finger and spreading vicious rumors!

10Feed the hungry,

and help those in trouble.

Then your light will shine out from the darkness,

and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.

11The Lord will guide you continually,

giving you water when you are dry

and restoring your strength.

You will be like a well-watered garden,

like an ever-flowing spring.

12Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your cities.

Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls

and a restorer of homes.

13“Keep the Sabbath day holy.

Don’t pursue your own interests on that day,

but enjoy the Sabbath

and speak of it with delight as the Lord’s holy day.

Honor the Sabbath in everything you do on that day,

and don’t follow your own desires or talk idly.

14Then the Lord will be your delight.

I will give you great honor

and satisfy you with the inheritance I promised to your ancestor Jacob.

I, the Lord, have spoken!”

Sprinkled

Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, 

having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water. 

Hebrews 10:22 (NIV)

I had just finished Day 3 in Week 3 of an amazingly anointed women's Bible study Gideon by Priscilla Shirer. After reluctantly closing my workbook, I looked up at a bright yellow Post-it I had slapped on my desk "who knows when", on which I had scrawled the above Scripture. My gaze at that 3" cubed piece of paper took on an intensity which I clearly knew was incited by God's presence hovering low. 

My eyes locked on the word "sprinkled". Read all of it. Huh? Read all of Hebrews 10. Okay God.

And I did. Hebrews 10. And I understood. Ah God, you truly are here with me right now and your presence is not to just impress me, but to impress upon me what I need to share. 

It was no coincidence that my homework assignment in my lesson today (before I looked up at the Post-it with Hebrews 10:22 on it) covered Judges 7:3-6. I was quite impressed with how God thinned out Gideon's army so that the men would fully rely on God. The fearful and weak and then the men who were not vigilant were sent home. I'm not going to be a spoiler and tell you the outcome (but if you read all of Judges 7, you are making the same hand gestures and in awe of what the Bible brings to us to help us realize that even when we are the underdog - - there is always hope). That is - - hope as long as we are obedient to God's marching orders, His direction, His stripping of people, places and things from our lives, etc.

Hebrews was written to the Jewish believers who were tempted to abandon all of Christ and the fullness of life Christ embodied (and still does). These people were tempted to go back to a life of religious emptiness. 

Today, too many believers, like Israel in the OT, are kneeling at the water where death and decay beckon. They have become more focused on fulfilling their fleshly desires and turning their backs on their enemy -the devil who seeks to devour and destroy. They cup their hands and vigorously attempt to hold all the water they can before again digging deeper into the water of sin until they bring with it the miry clay. Rather than spit out the dirt of iniquity, they keep drinking because they are thirstier than ever. Their palate has sought out the sensation of wetness rather than recognize the grit that will ensue.

Lord, I sit and read your Word.  I have a bottle of purified water next to my study book and not just one Bible, but a commentary as well. These resources have not collected dust on a shelf, or been used to press flowers for an art project I will never make. Instead, these resources are the tools for the beginning of my heart to be "sprinkled" from an evil conscience. 

Thank you God, for Your graciousness. You have allowed me to continue to represent you in the army and the battle ahead. I will remain vigilant. I will give You my fear when it comes (2 Corinthians 10:5). My body will be washed with pure water. I have my armor on (Ephesians 6) I am wearing my steel-toed shoes of peace. But don't be deceived. I will kick  Genesis 3:15 Satan in the head. I will be the last woman standing. I am ready for the battle ahead.

As I look off into the wilderness behind me, I sadly take in the scenery. Friends I worshipped with and prayed with, those women whom I had prepared a meal for and spent time with in the Word - - - we laughed, we shared, we cried, we danced. And now they don't even notice me. They kneel in the mud at the edge of the water. Some cup water, and some stick their faces into the murky depth. They only see what they want. Their armor lays unworn sprawled across the dead grass behind them. They don't even notice or even care that close by a pack of lions have gathered, and are patiently waiting to attack.

With a quick prayer on my lips, I wipe a lone tear from my cheek and then look ahead at the mountaintop above. I draw near to my Savior - my Lord Jesus Christ with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having my heart sprinkled from an evil conscience. I have a mission. I don't look back.I have a mountain to climb.

Salty

Finally! I am back to my keyboard, allowing the thoughts to fly onto the page. I had been super duper busy since our move in August. Although I had time while I sat in a temporary apartment until our short sale purchase came through, I just did not "feel" like writing. Writer's block? No, not even that, as I had not attempted to write. I just decided to read instead.

One of the best features of our new home is an in ground pool. I have never owned a pool before. But, in our search for a new home, a pool was the first item on my wish list. I was so specific too. I wanted a saltwater pool, as I did believe the salt would be better for our skin, and easier to maintain.

Boy was I right on the first count but so very wrong on the second!! We inherited a green pool with dead frogs and an unknown frothy substance on the surface. While our short sale close date kept getting pushed back, the previous owner had shut off the pool pump. As a result, the pool looked and smelled like a toxic waste dump.

Pinch a Penny up the street offered to analyze the water and help us get the pool back to good health. However, just before taking on the task, my husband met the neighbor and was delighted to know she took care of pools as a part time business. And so, the battle began of shocking the pool, sucking out the debris and balancing the salt levels. No easy task even for a pro. The previous owner did something mysterious which drastically affected the salt levels.

Three months later, the prognosis is better. We can swim in the pool, but are still draining and adding water because the pool is just still too darn salty. The goal of the perfect number on the pool pump machine eludes us still three months after trying to get to "normal".

And so, as I always do, I thought of God and His Word and what He would say about saltiness. I Googled  'salty scriptures' and found a great site http://www.openbible.info/topics/salt The very first verse got my attention. Matthew 5:13, “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet." Yesterday's directive from the pool technician, "You need to drain a foot from the pool again and refill it. There is still too much salt." And my response, "But the salt turns the grass a funny yellow color and I feel bad discoloring the neighbor's front yard." But the pool won out over being neighborly.

This morning I resignedly hooked up the blue rubber hose to the pool drain, dragged it to the end of the driveway and sighed as I watched the salty albeit clear (sigh) water travel down the road to form a (yes, you got it) salty puddle in my neighbor's driveway. Too much salt.

God's Word speaks of having much salt as a good trait and lacking salt problematic. Salt was and still is used as a preservative as well as so much more! I enjoyed watching the above YouTube and learned how to make salty nail art. Great for Christmas and any other glittery event in which I would like to don beautiful nails. 

Fun, yes, but I wanted to know more about what God's Word had to say about salt in regard to my character, my life, and my Christian walk.What type of "balance" of saltiness is "normal" in God's economy? As I pondered this, I allowed myself a bit of a trip back in time...

Having enjoyed many icy winters in New Jersey, I could not forget the big round bucket of salt that my dad would dive into with a shovel just after an icy event. He would scatter the salt on the front porch, stairs and walkway to the car. There was a method to his salting of the ice. He would wait until the sun peeked out just a bit, then those chunky salt pellets would perform magic it seemed. I remember the rug in the hallway would have a new design as the outline of our shoes would drip salty water onto the rug and our shoes would actually "draw" themselves onto the rug.

Those days, the salt was used for safety. It prevented us from a nasty fall. I also remember gargling with saltwater after getting my wisdom teeth out. Used in this way, the salt prevented disease from making its way into the places where teeth had been. 

Today, I don't dare make my hubby pasta without a heavy dose of salt in the water. The pasta would be bland just as potatoes without salt would be - well - blah.

This guy knows a thing or too about salt - and potatoes in the form of fries....
Good, huh? But God impressed upon me as He always does, when I think I am in control, Christina, , "What about the verse after the salt verse???"

Well, he didn't exactly say that, but led me to Matthew 5:14, "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden."

Yes Lord. Of course. What good is salt if it has lost its flavor? What good is a light if I never turn on the switch? If I never let the glorious glow of my front porch light shine so that others may find me? 

If I do not share the light that God has given me to share with others, then I have wasted my saltiness and my life's purpose has no seasoning and I am well - blah - or like a cold french fry. And nobody wants to be a cold fry. It may be salty, but it has lost its appeal.

My salty experience yesterday with the pool technician had led me into this time today. My pool is drained. I now await the success or failure of the numbers on the pool computer. Too much or too little salt. That is the question. But God's directive to His children (that includes me)  in Matthew 5:13&14, one day my pool will be "normal" and I won't have to test its saltiness or lack thereof, for it will be maintained and kept at a "normal" level on its own.

I now offer a first to all of you. Homework! Yes, I am giving homework to you today. Read all of Matthew 5. And if you rolled your eyes and said no and decided to contact Preposterous above for some free fries, I won't judge you. I will take your disregard for homework with a grain of salt - or possibly go for a lap in my saltwater pool! No worries. Life is full of good choices!!

She Survived!

There in sunlight descending in the west she stood. I could see her standing next to her husband as I realized mine was there holding the cash I needed to buy my organic produce for the week.

I walked over and was stunned by her beautiful, short-shirred silver hair. Her eyes I remembered as blue now met her hair in a shade nearer to silver blue as if her eyes became a silver shadow of blue with a sheen of brilliant bluish gray. Her perfect-for-South Florida tank top embellished with bluish-gray rosettes adorned her pale skin in a way that accompanied the slowly-fading sun.

She did not see me as I approached happily, and humbly hugged her.I rejoiced in seeing her standing there. For it was not long before that I heard she was very very sick and very weak. She had been sick with cancer for so very long. I had made chicken soup and waited - received a thank you card and celebrated the very fact that she was even able to eat the meal and have the ability to recognize the giver of that chicken dish. I prayed for her many a day. I shed many tears for this wonderful woman. Now she stood there casually for which I smiled ear-to-ear I will admit.

Thinking back - we waited so very long and rejoiced with every good report. We refused to give up hope. She was too young and full of life. We hoped for a miracle.

Nothing compared to seeing her today as she was truly resplendent in her silver. I hope she knows what a blessing she is - how her courage and ability to struggle and survive has touched my life let alone many. She shared she wished she were still blonde. But today she was silver. Short haired silver but beautiful and so full of God and new life. Nothing compares to the beauty that comes from a life of hope and new beginnings.

She survived. She smiled. She is silver. She is beautiful.

Thank you Lord for new beginnings. For hair that grows back even after cancer. Though that hair may grow back silver and be short for many seasons, that new hair symbolizes life. She survived. Thank you Jesus for this miracle!

She survived. She stood in the Farmer's Market today.

Ministry of Presence

This past Sunday our Pastor spoke of the "Ministry of Presence." I was already listening intently to the sermon, but my mind locked on those three words. Something clicked. Ahh...mercy, serving a meal to the sick, helping the elderly with laundry. All of these ministry activities so important. As Pastor Bernard continued, those three words cleared the confusion in my head. So there is a ministry where I need say nothing, solve nothing, do nothing but be there??? I always thought I had to be a Super-hero, a Mother Theresa born in the good ole' USA - - why try? Usually I would just make a meal and have someone deliver it as I felt inadequate to minister face-to-face.

How often do we not go to a sick person's room, someone losing their hair after chemo because we do not know what to say? We rationalize that we do not relate as we have never been in their situation. Someone else is better able to minister in that capacity. How often have we avoided a funeral service because we felt awkward and unsure about how to approach grieving family members?

I have to admit I am a "No Show" far too many times because I feel inadequate, unprepared and just downright at a loss in the "what to say" and "how to say it" department. So I just don't show up.

But God had a lot to say about "just being present" this past Sunday as our Pastor continued his sermon on "just being there". The Ministry of Presence is sitting quietly and not trying to do anything. You become a human being and not a human doing. A sort of Mary in a Martha world and just as Mary sat at the feet of Jesus and was enjoying His presence we can sit with others (or stand or lie down - no matter!) and be that sweet silent presence to them. For we are there because we care. We are there not to solve their problems but to pray over them and beseech the Only One who can solve their problems and heal them in the first place (physically and spiritually) - the Lord Jesus Christ.

Ahhh! This Ministry of Presence - such a peaceful concept. Where did it begin? I think of John 20:19, "On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" John 20:20, "After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord." John 20:21 Again Jesus said, "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you."  John 20:22 And with that he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit."

The disciples no doubt were comforted and encouraged - actually overjoyed no doubt  (I would be! How about you?) when Jesus's presence was apparent. For they had been fearful up to that point, most likely asking "Why?" "What happened?" "What now?" I can envision the Apostles pacing in the room - back and forth - back and forth - back and forth - dirt flying into the air as feet already caked with mud become dusted with more dirt each second.... Then in enters Jesus and all is suddenly well again.

We true believers in the Lord Jesus Christ have the power of the Holy Spirit in us that Jesus left the disciples with.We can share Christ's enduring presence in the lives of others. It is an awesome responsibility to go. To be there as we know we are called to do (Matthew 25) and just be present. But the going need not consist of problem-solving, deep counsel or a To Do list as long as your arm. Just go. The Ministry of Presence, the first time I heard it ever this past Sunday - intrigues me and calls my name. I will never be the same! The yoke of doing that I put on myself has now been flung off and I feel free!!!

I don't have to perform. I don't have to be perfect. I don't even have to participate. I just need to be present. The Gospel must also be present in the Ministry of Presence. For if not, consoling and comforting through this silent ministry will not be possible. Christ's powerful presence will shine through a servant in this ministry of mercy, allowing light to overpower the darkness of fear and questions of the future. Perfect love casts out fear and we must invite the Lord in when we minister in this capacity.

A Ministry of Presence helps victims become survivors, which is necessary to recovery and renewal. After all - - there is only Victory in Christ.

How many party invitations have I sent out that I have scribbled at the very bottom, "No presents. Your presence is all we ask." Yet, when we are at our lowest whether it be physically ill, spiritually low or emotionally hurting - - why do we not ask for the presence of others? For the presence of others bringing the sweet perfume of the Lord is exactly what we need at that time. We may receive a bowl of soup but it may be the very hands of the giver of the meal that we need in prayer beside us reaching out to the Lord.

I am so grateful to have heard the sermon this past Sunday. I am excited for what the Lord will do with this Ministry of Presence. There truly is freedom in knowing our present is our presence. True mercy in silence. Sign me up!

Is There A Single Jewish Person Here?

"Elizabeth, I am heading to Publix to pick up the Seder cookies I signed up to bring tonite."
"Yeah, I gotta go too. I signed up to bring macaroons."
"Hey, I signed up to bring macaroons too. I don't know what they are but Publix has everything. So I might get you a box too because I know how you are going to be short on time tonite." My friend and I laughed because we know it is quite important to bring the food to church that we committed to bring. We hung up and I headed out to Publix.

The reason I was headed to Publix was for our church's Seder Dinner. I was excited to learn about the Jewish tradition of Passover and the Seder Dinner celebration that Jewish families share every year. I heard the symbolism and evidence of Jesus Christ being introduced into what the Pastor referred to as "The Fifth Cup" intrigued me.

However, when I entered the bakery section at my local Publix Supermarket, I was quite surprised to be told that "Kosher" food for Passover would not be available until the next week. In broken English, the Haitian lady pointed me to another table in the middle of the bakery in which she stated, "There are other bakery goods that Jewish people eat." I looked at boxes upon boxes of sugary cookies, bow ties, croissant muffins, merinque cookies. I took a deep breath and knowing the answer asked this dark-skinned well-meaning woman a fifth time, "But how do I know it is Kosher and I can bring to Seder dinner tonite?"

I didn't wait for her to answer. Throwing my hands up in the air, and in an exasperated tone, I loudly growled to no one in particular, "Is there not one Jewish person in this whole Publix who can tell me what I can bring to Seder Dinner tonite?" A woman, the only woman who had been listening to my rant, touched a box in front of her, took a step back and then decidedly dove in to help. She said, "I am Jewish. How can I help you?" I was not surprised actually. My faith dictates that often these types of encounters are part of a divine plan that only the Lord ordains.

This sweet grandmotherly woman agreed with me that nothing on that table was Kosher for Passover. She took control immediately and stated, "There must be a Kosher aisle in this store. Come on honey, we will find it. You will bring something to your Seder Dinner tonite even if it is not macaroons." She touched my arm and steered me to the heart of the store. She interupted a clerk and asked where the Kosher aisle was located. She was on a mission for me - a total stranger - a Gentile no less!

As we were turning down the Kosher aisle, I mentioned I was a Christian and my church was having a Seder Dinner to teach us Gentiles about Jewish tradition. My new friend stopped in her tracks. She planted both feet directly in front of me and asked, "Do you know what Passover is?" I smiled because I did indeed understand Passover was the celebration of the Angel passing over the homes of the Jewish faithful who had painted blood over the lintels of the doors to protect them from death. I also shared that she as a Jew was the chosen one and that I as a Gentile was "grafted in". She was quite pleased with my understanding of Passover.

I was touched by this woman's desire to mentor me in what was appropriate to bring. We decided on a jar of Gefelte fish. I said no to Matza toast - after all everyone would know to bring that! Before I knew it, we were plucking a jar of horseradish off the cooler. I confirmed it was Kosher for Passover and my mentor was pleased that I had made it a point to check for Kosher status. At that point there was not much else to say. I thanked her again. I must have thanked her ten times as I was grateful that she took so much time to teach and share her tradition with me.

I looked at her one last time and I knew it was farewell. I would never see her again. The scavenger hunt was over. Macaroons forgotten. She said to me, "You might come over to the other side. You might become Jewish." Wanting to please her, I did not dive into a salvation message but instead told this kind hearted woman, "You never know - you might see me at  - - at Temple is it?" Grinning from ear to ear, "Yes, yes it is Temple. Maybe I will see you at Temple." I thanked her again and headed to the register. I was still smiling but inside slightly sad.

That wonderful woman knew everything there was to know about Jewish culture, tradition and Old Testament. However, she did not know the Fifth Cup in the Seder Dinner was for available for her to partake of today. Her people still await the return of the Messiah. If only she knew for me to become Jewish was to go backwards but for her to become a Messianic Jew was to have it all!!!

Next blog I will share the Seder Dinner that my church presented that night. It was so amazing to understand the symbolism of the elements and the love for the Word.

When I got home from the store, I called my friend Elizabeth just to let her know I would not be bringing macaroons. I didn't want to let her down! We giggled about my encounter. She told me she had just gotten back from her Publix and she found plenty of macaroons! She had even picked up a box for me.

Needless to say, that night the Gefilte fish remained in my refrigerator. The next day I returned that jar of never-to-be tasted fish. That jar was destined to grace another table for another celebration. Possibly that kind warm and friendly Jewish woman's table or another well-meaning Gentile like myself who had been taught by a loving mentor to properly participate in Passover Kosher-style. It never was about finding macaroons anyway. It was about a Jew and a Gentile enjoying a chance encounter that will stick with both until the Rapture or the last breath either take. I pray this Jewish woman's last words will be "Here I come Jesus my Lord and Saviour". I pray she will embrace Yeshua before it's too late.

No, it never was about the macaroons!!! It was a divine appointment. Happy Passover one and all...

Secret Sisters Reveal

This fall, I dipped a toe into the "Secret Sister" waters for the very first time. The result? A soaking. I was drenched in God's humor and washed anew by a special sister's Grace.

Before unveiling my adventure, here is a link describing what Secret Sisters is all about in case you don't know. http://www.creativeladiesministry.com/secretsisters2.html

Secret Sister Adventure Begins
"Yes I would like to participate". I am handed a half sheet of pink paper with the standard questions: name, birthday, anniversary, likes, dislikes. I go home and fill out the first part. I put the pen down and ponder the rest. Favorite foods? Hum. Not enough space. Hobbies? Definitely need to finish on the back - not enough room on the front. Favorite Scripture verses. Could write a book - a very good thing indeed. Done. I place the form in my lesson book. Note to self: hand in next week at Ladies Group.

The next week I pick a half sheet of pink paper with someone else's info on it out of a box and someone mysteriously picks my name out of the box. It's all a surprise! Shh - don't tell anyone who your Secret Sister is. But I can't let rules be rules. So I begin to believe I know who picked my name. Don't ask me details (listening to the wrong voice in my head now) but I convinced myself that my Secret Sister is the same Secret Sister I have been assigned to. Still with me?!

Days passed into weeks and at Church on Weds and Sundays gifts are secretly placed at the back of the Church. The fun had begun. I received an anniversary card in the mail from my Secret Sister. What a surprise! I had forgotten I was even asked my anniversary date on the pink paper. I compared the handwriting on the card to the handwriting on the half sheet of pink paper I picked from the box and was further convinced I knew who my Secret Sister was.

In the next three weeks I excitedly plot and plan gifts and surprises for my Secret Sister, all the while concentrating more on what my Secret Sister is wearing, just so I can match her gifts to her color palette. Yes, I address her spiritual needs through Scripture presented in a compilation book which I send her. I knew she would love this book because she is writing a book of her own and this book will give her that quick jolt of inspiration in the morning or be that quick pick-me-up in between morning devotions and dinner preparations.

Did I pray for her? Yes. In the first few weeks I did. I knew she was new in town, new to Cornerstone Church and adjusting. I knew we had a lot in common and that she and I would be life long friends. How could we not? After all, we were forming such a bond. At least I thought we were. I stopped praying for her after those first few weeks went by.

I began listening to the wrong voice in my head.
I was listening to my own assumptions. I was hearing what I wanted to hear. I was listening to me. No, I did not hear the still small voice of the Lord which was insisting I pray for the "Secret Sister" who was most likely praying for me though not buying me gifts or sending me cards to let me know she cared. The same still small voice that was saying, "Be quiet."

And I ignored God's chastening and my husbands godly advice. See, what I have not explained yet, is the fact that the Secret Sister designated to send me gifts, letters, etc. had not sent anything since the anniversary card. And that was the reason for my discontent. It was right about then that my prayers stopped ascending heavenward for a Secret Sister that had not even been revealed yet.

And since I was steadfast in my assurance that I knew who my Secret Sister was, I became bitter because I had not heard from her in awhile. There were no gifts for me, no cards in the mail. Instead of praying for my Secret Sister and seeking the Lord about how I could serve her, I decided to sin. I didn't stop buying presents for my Secret Sister, but I did become bitter and wrongly disappointed in many ways. I questioned the Lord as He continued convicting me during my morning devotions, "Why should I buy her gifts if she doesn't take time to acknowledge me? Why doesn't she share her trials if that is the reason for her absence in my life?" Again, I thought the Secret Sister I was buying gifts for was the same person that was supposed to buy gifts for me. Still with me?

I was so wrong. So terribly wrong. And I regret my sinful fleshly behaviour.

In preparation for our annual Women's Fellowship, I volunteered to send email invitations to all the ladies and requested they RSVP with the type of covered dish they would bring. So I got a call from a girl in the group named Lisa two days before the party. She asked me what she should bring. I simply said, "A vegetable dish". Then our conversation flowed and we began talking about Church and other things (we had gotten to know each other pretty well in a previous conversation so we had lots to chat about).

Soon, our conversation moved to the Secret Sister experience. Ugh. A floodgate opened and I shared my disappointment about my Secret Sister. I justified if my Secret Sister was having a hard time or sick or having a financial problem, didn't I need to know so I could pray for her? I felt my Secret Sister owed me that much consideration. Just like sprinkling confectioner's sugar on a cake, I dusted my words with a tiny bit of compassion for my absent Secret Sister. And you know how sometimes the sugar wafts a bit on the air and a small hint of it lands on your lips? And you lick it? And it tastes good. And so in the same way, I licked my lips as I experienced a tiny bit of sweet justification for my "being forgotten".

However, the flavor of my intentions was anything but sweet. That which I had not swallowed was my pride. Complaints announced. Gossip created. The fallout begins. The stench of my words and the foul intention of my heart no doubt filled Christ's nostrils. A spirit of pride in me spewed, ejected, and vomited while the demons smiled. Attending Cornerstone Bible Fellowship for seven months and making leaps and bounds in my faith has just come to a screeching halt. The angels in Heaven no doubt began a prayer vigil.

Lisa listened and in her wise manner guided me back to Scripture. For one ember of sin is often the start of a bonfire. And wise Lisa held high the candle snuffer because she knew the Word of God puts every fire out.

"Lisa, are you my Secret Sister?" I suddenly asked her. I don't know why I asked her that, but suddenly I was experiencing paranoia! She didn't answer, and then I asked three times in succession. "You shouldn't ask who your Secret Sister is!" That was the last thing she said before she changed the subject. "Christina, my Secret Sister has not sent me anything, not even a card." Silence. The saying I complained about not having shoes until I saw the man that didn't have feet hit me between the eyes in that split second. I felt really stupid. And sinful.

I should have stopped talking then but I forged ahead,"Lisa, aren't you going to be embarrassed to meet your Secret Sister at the party? What are you going to say?" Lisa replied, "I am going to be glad to know who my Secret Sister is. I am praying for her." Conviction. I tell Lisa she is a better person than me. Because I have not arrived with that type of grace or kindness yet. I was wrong. I was selfish. But I was honest. Painfully so. But honesty never does right a wrong. And so I still dwell in the lie I have created. And again, I ignored the voice of the Lord, "Be quiet."

On and on I droned. I was disappointed in the person who picked my name and who chose to participate but was not responsible in following through with their commitment. I felt justified in judging. I felt worthy of putting my standard of performance on someone who I did not even know. I continued to plead my case that I understood that that person may be having issues but I wanted to know so I could pray for them. I lied to myself because it was all about me and nothing about them. Yes, I would have prayed. But my real motive was to be acknowledged. Guilty. So very guilty.

We hung up and then she called back while I was in the kitchen and she told my husband, "I changed my mind. Tell Christina I am bringing a meatloaf."

I am telling you about the meatloaf because it was not really important what she was bringing in the eternal scheme of things - but - I found this out later. My husband Vinnie answered the phone when Lisa called back the second time. He told Lisa, "Lisa, I love you. Please encourage Christina about this Secret Sister thing. She really needs prayer." But Lisa had already been doing so.

Believe me, the Lord was working. That was so out of character for my husband to respond sensitively to someone he does not really know that well. It was the Lord's love conveyed in that second phone call. God was preparing my heart through the phone for a confrontation and a spiritual bath for me.

That nite in bed my husband and I talked about my bad attitude. He told me God was going to allow me to have the proverbial "egg in my face" splayed for all to see unless I confessed my unlovely behavour about this Secret Sister thing to Him in prayer. I listened. I began to feel the stirring of conviction for sharing my disappointments with Lisa. Then fell asleep.

Secret Sister Reveal
We were told to bring a Christmas gift for our Secret Sister and we would introduce ourselves at the party. Ugh. I admit I did not care. During the worship music I determined to hold my Secret Sister accountable and confess my sinning against them. I felt sure the person I would hand my gift to would be that person. I felt sure this person would hand me a gift and make a lame excuse for not being a part of my life since the anniversary card.

However, God worked me over during the Christmas songs and "Breath of Heaven" brought tears to my eyes. The Lord was in that place as my Secret Sister's granddaughter Mercy danced in circles to the music, with her hands held high until she fell from dizziness. She then got right back up and spun and spun with a smile on her face. She smiled the entire time.

I was broken. I was so horribly ready to fall apart. The Secret Sister I had been buying gifts for all along is named Honor. And I felt anything but honorable as before my eyes her granddaughter danced the dance of joy. The dance of abandon to the Lord. The dance David danced. Honor. Mercy.

Soon after I approached Honor with her gift. She was so excited to know I was her Secret Sister. She had no idea I was her Secret Sister. None. Nada. Zilch. We discussed all the gifts I had given her through the weeks and how much she enjoyed them and then she left with her daughter Honor Jr and granddaughter Mercy. She was not the Secret Sister assigned to me after all! So who was? The question lingered as I walked back into the throng of women chatting amicably. The voice of my enemy, "So maybe Honor just blew you off after all. If not, your Secret Sister may be here and igoring you and you will never know who it was to begin with!" crashed into my heart. I accepted the lie. I figured I'd get my bags and go on home.

Lisa approached me gift bag in hand. "Hello Secret Sister!"

The room and everyone in it disappeared. Lisa again, "Hello Secret Sister!" "No! No! No! It can't be!" I thought she was kidding or just decided to take over that role to possibly - make me feel better? No. It was true. She was my Secret Sister all along. I was shocked and shamed. One big ball of shock and shame. My brain truly ceased to function for a full 10 seconds.

At once we both laughed. The awkwardness subsided. The Lord intervened. The understanding of God's precious gift of Sisters took center stage as we bonded in a new way. Realizations rose to our lips as we talked together loudly at the situation God had humorously allowed. The gifts in her hands were forgotten. The disappointment was forgotten and embarrassment took its place.

Allow me to share the irony. In our conversation two nights prior to this Secret Sister Reveal, Lisa had shared her journey of learning to trust the Lord for her financial needs since the Secret Sister Program began. Lisa and her husband have five kids. She had been trying to find a job. She was preparing to face the fact that they would not meet their rent that month and had even discussed with her husband the possibility that they may have to head to a homeless shelter. Not that the Church would allow that to happen, but it did enter her mind.

She shared that basically "in the eleventh hour" God gave her a job. She was surrounded by supportive behind-the-scenes saints. God answered their prayers in so many ways. However, she had spent many nights on her knees in prayer and had shed many tears while travelling through this financially challenging valley. All while wearing many hats - wife, Mother of five, job seeker, daughter, sister, friend. She was praying for me, though gifts were not purchased, cards not sent. Her prayers were the precious gifts I needed most. Her godly character humbled me. I apologized and she said I did not have to. I apologized anyway. Four or five times just to make sure she heard me - the first time.

Then we laughed. And laughed. And laughed. I ribbed her a bit because I pointed out that she had been sticking up for herself in our previous conversation! And we both knew how it felt to not receive monetary things from our Secret Sisters. But she already knew that the prayers were most important and I knew I would never be the same. Gratefully, I knew I was forever changed. The lesson learned that day was immense. Yes, I would have liked to have received a card from Lisa as my Secret Sister telling me she needed prayer. But, the lesson was, I should have already been praying for her. I confessed in my heart that in my pride I felt entitled to that knowledge, possibly as a way to excuse my love of self and love of things material. I was so sorry. So very sorry.

Lisa then presented me with a beautiful gift bag of yummy smelling lotions and gels. She said she had attempted to glean details regarding my favorite things from our conversation of two nites ago (she had lost the 1/2 page of pink paper with my details on it long before). She also bought me a smoothie maker which blessed me because it is something I had wanted for sometime but would not splurge on.

The True Meaning of the Season
There was a sweet fragrance coming from our end of the room and it had nothing to do with the vanilla sugar scented bath and body lotions that Lisa had given me. The fragrance was in the humble giving and accepting of those gifts. It was God's timing. He no doubt watched and laughed with the deep belly laugh that only comes with true comedy. We had entertained not just angels unawares, but assuredly the entire Kingdom of God was laughing with us. We were rejoicing then, not only because of the fact that Lisa had just landed a new job, but because Lisa had purposed in her heart to bless me despite the fact that I did not deserve it at all.

I don't know if she arrived at that decision to bless me easily. I will never know. I personally know myself well and know that I would eventually do the right thing, but not without kicking and screaming at the throne room doors of Heaven. My sinful, fleshly, self-absorbed personae is far too well known to me.

I am grateful and humble that Lisa had already forgiven me for my ungrateful heart - possibly long before the Secret Sister Reveal - or our phone conversation. I made Lisa promise that she would be the one to break the news to my Husband Vinnie. I knew he would laugh and eventually stop telling me, " I told you so." I wiped the egg off my face along with my tears which had fallen not from sadness, but from the laughter my Secret Sister and I shared in our precious time together that nite.

In Summary
There was joy abundant in Lisa's giving the nite of the Secret Sister Reveal. Joy but also with that joy a blaring reminder to me that I did not deserve those gifts at all.

However, the giver decided in her heart that she wanted me to have them because of love deeper than a human heart can express. That love Lisa displayed was only possible because of the Lord.

The Lord came to this earth for the same reason. 1 John 4:9 states, "By this the love of God is revealed in us: that God has sent his one and only Son into the world so that we may live through him".

Lisa chose Christ. Yes, she was saved by faith (Christ) but she is also living by faith (Christ). I am glad my Secret Sister was revealed. Some believe secrets are meant to be shared. Others feel secrets should remain secret. I choose the former in this case.

The morning after the Secret Reveal, as I was still contemplating the events of the night before, an email landed in my Inbox. It was a Max Lucado daily devotional which ended with this verse: Phil 1:6, "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus".

God's comfort through His Word always makes me smile. And His timing perfect. Always. For He knew when I accepted the Secret Sister adventure, I would not just dip my toe in those waters. No, He knew I would be showered - from head to toe. A shower of blessings from my Secret Sisters. And a shower of God's mercy for Sisters standing on God's Word. God honors His promises. And today I stand on the promise of Phil 1:6. Wash us afresh O Lord I pray!

And so Merry Christmas. And happy, joyful New Year Secret Sisters one and all. For we truly have been drenched by the love of God. We are fully immersed in our passion for Christ. The water's warm...don't just dip in a toe Sisters - Get Wet!

I'm glad I tested the Secret Sister "waters" this winter for I will never be the same. And that is something to celebrate! Merry Christmas!

The Potato Vine

My friend Debbie was recovering from a hysterectomy. I went to her house to visit. Of course I brought her cut flowers from my garden. See, Debbie is the original flower child. She loves all living, breathing things. She truly enjoys gifts others have enjoyed ie. books read with missing covers, blankets with holes from many warm winter nights, thrift store finds such as sweaters with mismatched buttons sewn on by an unknown wearer, threadbare curtains that still sway. You get the point. My friend Debbie is a rare find and I treasure her joi de vivre and "down to earth" style.

After giving Debbie the cut flowers, I assumed in her weak physical state she would merely ask me to put the flowers in a vase. However, she clutched them in one fist and proceeded out the back door into her garden. Debbie's garden is fun! She tells stories of who gave her which seedling and which plant she found curbside and nursed back to health. Literally, every plant has a story. After taking a quick breath as a short pain made its way through her midsection, she asked me to go back inside and get the scissors. I came back and she was on her knees in the dirt, smelling a flower's face that had peeked out to catch a ray of sun. Debbie made me smile. Seeing her on her knees reminded me that even in her weakened physical state she loved to be in the garden!

Debbie cut a long vine and handed it to me. She had cut the only vine with a fuschia lavendar mix of flowers at the very end. She had given me the best cutting. I remember her calling this particular clipping a "potato vine". I put it in water when I got home but did not hold much hope because my thumb was anything but green. But the flowers sure were pretty. That is, until they turned brown and died.

Needless to say, that glass sat on my kitchen counter for many days doing absolutely nothing but forming a slimy green layer around the mouth of the glass. I kept adding water to it when I remembered to do so and the rings formed many times around the glass as the days passed and the water level went up and down as I added water and as the water evaporated. I never did think of cleaning the glass.

I got sick of looking at that ugly lifeless vine. It was not beautifully flowering and was no longer even green. It became a sad shade of greenish black. I decided to plant it in a clay pot. I set it in the dirt outside the patio. Out of sight and out of mind. Two hurricane seasons passed and our yard was pummeled by high winds and heavy rains. However, that potato vine was unaffected. It was not giving up but it was not really growing at all. I did not have the heart to give up on it. Somehow it seemed an affront to Debbie to lose hope on ever seeing it bloom again. So I just left it there.

A year ago, I looked out the same kitchen window where the vine had sat in a glass on the counter. I was quite surprised to see a tendril of the vine reaching heavenward. The vine was making it's way up the patio screen up into the eaves! It was so pretty with the northern sun lighting up the green leaf from behind. I appreciated how fast it was growing. I smiled every day as I did dishes. One day fuschia lavendar flowers bloomed. The flowers dangled just above the window. Just a whisper of wind would cause them to move slightly back and forth. I had fun pretending they were dancing! Debbie came over one day. She looked out the kitchen window and saw the flowering vine. She said, "I love your garden! You have such pretty wildflowers and so many different colors." When I pointed up at the potato vine she exclaimed, "It's so pretty!" but did not remember giving it to me. We laughed. Debbie is such a blessing. She gives so much all the time it is no wonder she forgets giving. She remembers who gave what to her but not who she gave what to.

Just recently, after the flowers bloomed, the vine got a bit messy. Dead leaves began to form. I toyed with the idea of getting up on a ladder and trimming the dead leaves. I had good intentions to do so, but never did get around to it.

This morning, with cup of coffee in hand, I walked to the center of the patio and for no real reason, looked up at my vine. When I looked up I immediately spotted a bird's nest in the highest part of the vine - in the dead leaves where the vines twisted and became messy. I had seen a cardinal playing in the vine for a few days up til today, but not a nest. I was so glad I did not clean up the vine, because I most likely would have ruined this creatures plans! The nest was perfectly formed. It securely sat amidst dead leaves and vines.

I stood in awe as I realized what that vine represented. What I had seen as bothersome and ugly many times over, was truly an amazing work of art that only the Master Artist God could have created! Debbie had known the possibility that I would not take the vine if it did not have a flower. So from her garden she gave me the only vine with a flower. I had forgotten the potential of that vine to flower as it sat on my counter in a glass of water and became ugly and sadly, annoying to me. Then as it sat in a clay pot in the dirt out of sight for two years doing seemingly nothing. It endured two major storms and still refused to give up.

The vine had the potential to do many things even though it was not evident to me visually. Then today, as the three vines grafted into one leafy mass, it allowed for a safe haven for a family of birds. It did not matter that my cats sun themselves on the patio every day just mere yards from the nest or that I clatter pots and pans and make noise in the kitchen below. That vine always had potential and so many more reasons to thrive and exist in my yard. Its purpose is evident for now. I am glad I did not give up on it. I can't wait to see the cardinals there and watch their baby birds be born. I can't wait to hear them sing their birdsongs and chirp for worms. I can't wait to witness life and all the wonderful things in store....

My friend Debbie knew the potential of her gift. She is a wise wonderful woman. Even though she forgot she gave it to me that day, she gave it willingly. I am wondering what the vine will do next. If the birds decide to leave the nest, I just may decide to take a clipping to a friend. But I want to make sure it is a clipping with a flower. For I know it will get ugly. But the memory of that blooming flower will help to get it through the next seasons of it's viney life. The purple flower will help it make its way to the glass on the counter and the legacy of the potato vine will hopefully live on to house birds for many seasons to come.