Fall Into His Stride

"Now devote your heart and soul to seek the Lord your God."

I Chronicles 22:19

I had to laugh when I came back into my office a few minutes ago. The light on my printer was blinking "Reload" at me from across the room. I chuckled at God's sense of humor because that's exactly what I needed to do!

This morning when the house was empty except for me and my two cats, I thought I'd had the whole day figured out. There was much to accomplish so I dove into the day all on my own with both feet planted firmly underneath me. From one task to the next my pace picked up speed and before I knew it, my "to do" list was half done. "This is great!" I thought. "I'm off to a great start. Now, what's next?"

As I settled into my office chair to make some phone calls, my eyes caught a glimpse of my prayer journal and Bible on the corner of my desk. "Oh yeah," I breathed and then justified, "But, God's not on my list, today. I've got so much more to do. I'm sure He won't mind if I just squeeze Him into my day here and there."

So, as I continued to ignore God's voice to focus in on with Him, I felt like I was wading through a pool of molasses! My network was slow and kept crashing. Skype kept dropping my calls. My laundry wouldn't dry. My crock pot dinner wasn't cooking evenly. The whole afternoon ended in a crescendo of frustration.

Finally, I stopped and opened Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest and read, "Getting into God's stride means nothing less than oneness with Him. " My heart was convicted. My mind wasn't talking to itself all day long...it was God calling me to spend time with him first and to leave the tasks for later. God further made His point when I opened His word to 1Chronicles 22:19, "Now devote your heart and soul to seeking the Lord your God."

I'm not saying that "to do" list isn't important. Those tasks do have to get done. We may plant our feet firmly beneath us and start the race but we may find our pace is way off to have a successful run. When we hear God calling us to his side, we need to go and fall into His stride to finish well.

Home Coming

"Then all the people left, each for his own home, and David returned home to bless his family." I Chronicles 16:43

In the 1970's the show "The Waltons" was part of my weekly line-up of T.V. shows. It was an endearing story of a large, extended family and their West Virginia mountain community set in the late 1920's and early 1930's. Every week my mother and I would watch this together. I guess for my mother it was a trip down memory lane but, for me it was a celebration of family!

The joy of watching "The Waltons" wasn't always the drama of solving a problem but it was the ending. Every week before the swell of the theme song and the scrolling of credits, the camera focused on the Waltons' moonlit homestead. Then, one-by-one each family member would say goodnight to each other, like they were reading Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown! "Goodnight Mary Ellen, Goodnight Erin, Goodnight Jason, Goodnight Jim Bob, Goodnight John Boy, Goodnight Grandma, Goodnight Grandpa..."And so it went until either Mama or Daddy lovingly hushed their ramblings with their own "Goodnight!" No matter how difficult the problem they faced each day, the Waltons' always ended their day together and at peace.

King David gave us a great example of this too. In 1 Chronicles we're told David spent days maybe even weeks of planning the return of the Ark of the Covenant to the City of David. He sent word out for all of Israel to gather in the city. He delegated responsibilities to the priests and musicians. Finally, the parade of worshipers began and David joined them in song and dance. He worshiped the Lord with sacrifices and prayer. He fed the people and blessed them. Finally, when the celebration was over, King David gave his last orders to the priests and made sure everything was in order for Israel to worship God properly, according to the Law of Moses. Then, after everyone had returned to their own home, David returned to his home and...collapsed from exhaustion...grumbled on his way in the door...demanded dinner right away...asked to be left alone...shut himself in his room and didn't come out for an hour...NO! The Bible says, "David returned home to bless his family!" What did THAT look like?

How many of us can say that after a day of work, let alone weeks of work, we feel like coming home and blessing our families? It's so much easier to unload the daily frustrations on them than it is to unselfishly put aside our own concerns to bless them. It sounds so counter cultural to even think this way that it's hard to imagine what a homecoming of blessing would look like. But, let's imagine it for just a minute.

As you enter your home, you take a deep breath and greet your family with a warm smile. You wrap your arms around your spouse, who's making dinner and tell them you've missed them. Your spouse returns the embrace and says, "I missed you, too." You then give a warm "hello" to your kids, ask how their day was at school and listen to their answers. There's a give and take of responsibilities after dinner and you finally wind down with your spouse for a few stolen hours together after the kids have settled into bed. You both share the frustrations of your daily grind and encourage each other to be the best you can be.

Does this sound too good to be true? Maybe it does for some of us. Is it attainable? I believe it is if we employ David's example to "return home to bless (our) his family!" Although our technology and family structures may have changed a great deal since the time of King David or even the era of "The Waltons," I do believe we all still have the need to gather in our homes and end our day in peace. The secret is to put others needs before our own and serve them rather than be served. The funny thing is, when they're needs are met, they WANT to meet our needs as well!

It's A Boy!

"You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus." Luke 1:31

"It's a boy!" Those lovely words rang through the phone today when my son and daughter-in-law called with the results from the ultrasound. What music to my ears! Oh, I'd have been just as thrilled to hear "It's a girl!" but there's just something about your son having a son that makes a parent glad. It's like you're assured that your name, your family legacy, your place in history will hold it's place for at least one more generation.

Upon our living room mantle and piano, I proudly display our generational story with old black and white photos of great grandparents I've never met. Intermingled are more current family photos and I wonder, what will the stories be that my grandchildren tell? What snapshots of our times together will spin a yarn around their family table? Will they be proud to wear the family name?

And then I think of Mary. You know, the mother of Jesus? Her family wasn't so thrilled to hear the words, "It's a boy!" uttered from her lips. There was no celebration or public announcement or shouts of joy. There were only murmurs, accusations, hiding and tears. And, when Jesus was born, what legacy could Mary and Joseph ever offer him? Joseph was just a carpenter, and nothing they had or did could ever match to the riches and glory he left in heaven!

But the thoughts of leaving a legacy grew dim as the "now" of 2 a.m. feedings, kissing skinned knees and raising a growing family took precedence. Their family probably acted like any other family except for maybe those few times when Mary or Joseph lost their temper. Picture it. Mary's scolding her second-born and says, "I just don't know what I'm going to do with you! Why can't you just be more like Jesus?!" Oh man! Talk about second child syndrome and sibling rivalry! Or think about when Jesus went missing for three days and his parents finally found him in the synagogue. When they try to discipline Jesus for making them worry, Jesus says, "Didn't you know I would be in my Father's house going about his work?" (my paraphrase) Can't you just see Joseph standing there speechless except to say to Mary, "He's YOUR son!" But Mary, one hand on her hip, points towards heaven with the other and snaps, "Oh NO he's not!" I bet neither one said a word to each other on that long journey back home!

When all was said and done, Mary and Joseph had no legacy to leave Jesus. It was Jesus who left his legacy for them...for all of us. He took our punishment; hung in our place so that we might accept his eternal inheritance. He offers us life if we only believe so that in the end, "The King will say to those on his right 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world." (Matthew 25:34)

Raise My Banner High

"We will shout for joy when you are victorious
and will lift up our banners in the name of our God." Psalm 20:5

After 9/11/01 it seemed every home in town was mournfully, yet proudly adorned with an American flag. If I recall correctly, I believe department stores sold out of them. Americans even painted flags on their roof tops, stuck them on their cars and wore them as symbols of their love of country. It was an emotional time when patriotism and anger were at their highest levels. It was a time when we were all forced to take a hard look at our country, the value of our freedoms, our families and decide if it was all worth fighting for.

About three weeks ago in the middle of a worship service at church, God planted this phrase in my heart, "Raise my banner." Now, there are banners (flags) in the back of our church sanctuary for people to use as an expression of worship so naturally, not wanting to step out of my comfort zone, I ignored what I was hearing. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, especially since I can't even chew gum and walk at the same time let alone wave a flag and walk...gracefully.

Since lightning didn't come out of the ceiling and strike me, I figured I was in the clear. But, honestly I haven't been able to shake this phrase. It keeps coming back to mind. So, I've had some candid discussions with God of late asking, "What is up with this?!" No answer. I was even willing to take up a worship banner during church this past week if the service leaned toward that type of expression. But, it didn't.

So, feeling like God is obviously trying to get my attention, I did some research on the word "banner" in scripture to see what the message could possibly mean. To my surprise I found that the word banner is only found in the Old Testament (Exodus 17:15, Psalm 20:5, Psalm 60:4, Isaiah 18:3 and Jeremiah 51:27). Much like today, banners symbolized a tribe or a nation and were used to rally their people together. But, when it was raised and placed on a mountain or lofty place it was a call to war. Once the flag was positioned, the war trumpets were blown and the flag served as a source of encouragement for the troops below. It signified what they were fighting for and why.

In Exodus 17 after a battle God instructs Moses to record the battle and to build an altar. Moses called it "The Lord is my banner" or "Jehovah-nissi." Moses wanted Israel to know that it wasn't by his own power, his own arms that they fell into victory, but it was God who raised the banner of His protection, presence and aid that brought them victory. (Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary, Hitchcock's Bible Names Dictionary).

So what does "raise my banner high" mean for me? Since I do fear the Lord and in light of what I "see" playing out in my life right now, it means two things. First, I must constantly remind myself that "the Lord is my banner." If I experience victories, it is only by God's grace and favor; not my own abilities. Second, I think God is calling me to rally around Him; to look toward Christ as my banner, my sustainer, my encourager, my protection, my Victor as I face any battle before me especially as I walk obediently with Him.

What does it mean for others? I'm not sure. But as I worship corporately on Sunday, if God calls us to battle, if He prods my heart to make Christ known as our banner, I will raise a worship flag. May God guide my clumsy feet with grace!

Giving Birth to My Second One

For me, the creative process is like being pregnant. I have a moving experience, I hear an inspiring story, or something strikes me funny and suddenly I'm in love with a story idea. In a rush of inspiration I grab a pad of paper and a pen as soon as I can and write that idea down while it's fresh in my mind. If I wait until the next day or the next minute, sometimes, the passion is gone and the story is lost. But, once the thought is written down, it sits in my journal, spins around in my head and germinates. I think about it every day. I play with scenarios, dream about it, and let it just rattle around for awhile as I live life.

For awhile it seems there's nothing happening. The ideas I have are disjointed. The words aren't clear. Then one day, a few phrases or sentences are formed. I keep repeating them to myself or write them down hiding them away in a folder marked, "WIP" (work in progress). Every now and again, I take out that folder, look at the words I scribbled on the page and pray something strikes me. If it doesn't I file it away and go on with life.

But then, in the midst of wondering if the words will every flow; if the story will ever take form, it does. It usually comes after discussing the story, out loud, with someone I trust. There's just something about speaking the words. It's like breathing life into them and suddenly, the story becomes real. It takes shape and form and matures until it's ready to be birthed on paper.

Today was that day! I'd been waiting since August to see the story on paper. Having spent some time down south this summer, I gathered some great ideas. They've rattled around in the cobwebs of my upper room just waiting to get out. Finally today, one of those stories eked out. I can't tell you the relief to finally see printed words on a page; the beginning of another children's story in black and white!

I can see an end in sight. There's the pain of laboring over words and form but I know there will be overwhelming joy when I hold my new baby!

Well Done!

"His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'" Matthew 25:2

Anyone who has spent any time at all with a young toddler knows how much they crave attention and praise. They understand that if they do something that pleases us adults with a smile or a belly laugh a round of applause will follow along with "Hooray!" or "Great job!" or "I'm so proud of you!"

My granddaughter and I have shared so many of those moments recently. She's just at that age when she's accomplishing something new every day: walking, talking, singing or counting. Whatever the task, she's sure to look for praise and I'm sure to offer it bountifully whenever we're together! And if she thinks I'm not watching, she cheers for herself with a clap and a "Hooray!"

Even now, as adults, doesn't it feel good when someone gives us a compliment or notices a job well done? It's even nicer when it takes us by surprise, isn't it? This week I was blessed with such a surprise. As I set up for my first Big E author signing of "Auntie's House" last Thursday I was told that CT's governor, Jodi Rell was looking for me the previous day. She told my fellow CT authors that my book was her granddaughter's favorite story! On the outside I humbly said, "Awww...that's so nice to hear," but on the inside I was like a toddler jumping up and down, clapping and shouting "Hooray! Hooray!"

In reflecting on this today, I thought of my pastor's teaching this Sunday on the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25. Two out of three servants did a great job. They were faithful with what they were given; multiplied their efforts and affects. To them the master said, "Well done good and faithful servant!" And, he increased their area of influence. Yet, to the third servant who did nothing but bury his money for safe-keeping, the master scorned him and took everything away from him.

We're like those servants. God has invested in us freely. He's given us a mission and equipped us to accomplish great things for His sake. What we do with those abilities; wether we decide to use them or bury them out of fear or false humility (my idea, not the pastor's) will bring about praise or disappointment from our heavenly Father. What we do will either bring us greater influence to bring about change in our world (big or small) or we'll just be that person watching life happen all around them, not through them.

God's sphere of influence through me comes by writing. It happens to be my passion (hint, hint). God has equipped me to use the written and spoken word to influence my world. Did I ever imagine it would be through a child's story book? No. But, I followed (and continue to follow) where God led without hesitation. I obeyed and did my very best.

My challenge to my readers: ask God to reveal His mission for you. Take the first step, in faith, knowing he has fully equipped you to accomplish great things. Then, get ready for an amazing journey!

Mindful of Us

"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" Psalm 8:3,4

Do you remember laying down, face up in the soft green grass of summer with your children naming all the funny cloud sculptures before they drifted out of sight? Lately, I've realized how little time I spend looking up. I've been so focused on the minute details of life that my perspective has become a bit near sighted.

Then, while watching the evening news one night last week, this photo (above) filled my T. V. screen. This image is a shot of the Globular Star Cluster Omega Centauri taken from the Hubbell telescope. There are 100,000 stars at its core which is 16,000 light years from earth and 100 times more brilliant than earth's sky!

I literally choked-up when I saw this image and thought, "Who am I, Lord that you should even care for me?" Why would the God who created the universe, with all of its beauty and complexity want to know me?

As my eyes took in the breath-taking images God readjusted my vision. He took my nearsightedness and adjusted my lenses to view my world (His world) from His perspective. I felt very small and yet very loved.

With all the beauty that abounds in the earth; in the depths of the seas, throughout the skies and in every galaxy, nothing compares in the light of God's love for us! NOTHING! He cares about the details of our lives, the substance of who we are, the depths of our hearts and the breadth of our thoughts. Not one star, nor even an entire galaxy, not one angel commands His attention more than you and me.

Keeping that in mind today, take a deep breath and look up! His eyes go to and fro in the whole earth, looking for those whose face is looking up and seeking Him. God is mindful of us!

Hope For a Future

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" Jeremiah 29:11

Opening week of deer hunting season hadn't allowed much time to connect with my husband. So, Saturday as I rode shot-gun in the passenger seat of his truck on our way to the Destiny Africa Children's Choir concert, I started to run through the list of things we needed to talk about.

By the time we arrived at the concert, I was starting to hyperventilate, my heart was heavy, aggravated and worried. When you got right down to it, I wasn't sure God was big enough to handle everything that was on our plate. We took our seats, made small talk with those around us and waited for the show to begin.

Finally, the African drumbeats filled the air. The most beautiful parade of smiles began and the sound of pure joy flooded my ears! With jubilation and glee these children filled the auditorium with hope for the future as they shared their dreams of becoming teachers, doctors, nurses, journalists, aerospace engineers and the president of Uganda!

Each child, from ten to fifteen, had experienced more tragedy than anyone in the room would ever know. All of them were orphans by disease or war but all by death. They witnessed horrible things, unspeakable things. Yet, they were full of joy. They were full of hope. They were full of dreams and they believed in their dreams.

These children had lost everything; suffered much. Yet, through Christ they had everything! Through Christ, everything was possible. How many times had I heard that but really never believed it?

As I sat there, tears flowing uncontrollably from my eyes, I felt ashamed that I had doubted God at all. Who was I to worry about anything? Who was I to think God was too small? Who was I to be burdened...burdened about what? I prayed, "Lord return to me the joy of my salvation! Return to me the joy!"

Tonight, on the eve of my first television interview for my book, "Auntie's House" God has reminded me that I, too had a dream. My heart's desire was to become an author, to spend my days forming words into pictures and speaking hope and encouragement into the hearts of those who needed to hear my message. I never imagined it would take the form of a children's book but, God did. I'm just following His lead.

What greater joy is there than having a dream, a heart's desire and watching God bring it to fruition? What greater hope can you give the world than to show that through Christ, ALL things are possible? Just follow his lead.

Angels With Fiery Swords

"...and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around..."

2 Kings 6:17

When my children were very little sometimes their fears kept them from sleep. They were normal fears that strike the imagination of all small children; fears of the boogie man, monsters under the bed, strange noises from outside and such. These fears, although born of their imaginations, seemed very real to them.

One particular night, I remember one of my children was especially anxious. As we closed the book of his chosen bedtime story he grabbed my arm and asked me to stay a little bit longer. It wasn't the normal request that led to talking past bedtime. There was an uneasiness that his little mind could not express but only a mother understood as fear. No song or story or night light, no peek under the bed, in the closet, or any hug and kiss could calm his heart. He was afraid of something he couldn't see but only imagined.

Finally, I said, "Let's say our prayers." That night (and every other night of his childhood) we prayed something like this, "Dear God, please send great big angels with fiery swords to protect our house. Please put two at the front door and two at the back door so we will be safe. Amen." With a kiss good night planted on his forehead, he pulled up his covers and fell fast asleep.

I don't know how long exactly, but soon after we prayed our first angels-with-fiery-swords prayer, one of our angels showed up in the Sunday paper! There he was, in the Rose is Rose comic strip! Rose was fearing her trip to the doctors and called on her guardian angel for company. The angel first appeared as a little fairy-like angel but Rose said, "I'm still a little scared. Would you mind?" The angel says, "Not at all" and proceeds to pump himself up 10 times his size until he looks like "our" angels, with a fiery sword and all!

Chuckling out loud I proceeded to snip it out of the paper and call the kids over to see. "Hey look at this! One of our angels is in the paper!" And there he was in living color! I hung that comic on our fridge to remind me and my kids of God's protection.

Elisha prayed a similar angels-with-fiery-swords prayer in 2 Kings 6 for one of his servants who was fearful at the sight of their enemy. Elisha prayed, "Oh Lord, open his eyes so he may see." God opened this servants eyes to see the Lord's army of horses and chariots of fire that way out numbered those of his enemy.

Rose Is Rose stills hangs on my fridge almost 20 years later...a bit yellowed and faded. I leave it there to remind me of God's protection even when I can't see it. "If God is for me, who can be against me?"

A Double Portion, Please.

"'Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,' Elisha replied." 2 Kings 2:9b

Food is probably on my mind way too much, especially in the fall. When the thermometer registers a decline in temps my kitchen stove gets fired up. Although I'm not a great fan of cooking a gourmet meal, I do enjoy whipping up a delicious dessert, especially a home-baked pie!

Pies are easy to make with very little fuss or mess and their aroma is a welcomed delight on a nippy day. It's one of those scents that wakes me from a sound sleep or reminds me of happy family gatherings. In fact, I'm always the one who volunteers to make the pies for Thanksgiving.

More so than baking pies, I love to eat them! My family has heard me say on many occasions, "I'd rather you bake me a birthday pie (especially blueberry) any day than a birthday cake!" To me, pies are perfect. They're not too sweet. They're never dry. They come in lots of flavors and beautiful colors inside. They can be served hot or cold and a la mode!

So Saturday, when my mother served dessert at her table, guess what we had? Pies! Not just one...but two! What's better than a pie for dessert? Two pies! What's better than two pies? Two different choices of pies! Now what's a woman to do when she's watching her waistline and she's faced with such a dilemma? The answer is simple! She asks for a double portion!

As three generations of our family sat around the table enjoying my mother's dessert we all had stories to share. Some were stories of what's happening now. Some were memories of by gone days when my parents were children while others were reminders of times us grown up kids had just forgotten. I love listening to all the stories, especially of times before I was born or before my memories began. It ties my family history together and fills in the blanks of how things once were or why things turned out the way they did.

Most of all, it makes me wonder what stories or memories my children and grandchildren will share about their childhood or family times.

Elijah was like a father to Elisha in the Old Testament. Elijah spiritually raised up Elisha as his successor as prophet to Israel. I'm sure Elisha spent many days at the side of Elijah learning all he could, like a son would with his father. When Elijah knew his time on earth was coming to an end, he asked Elisha "What can I do for you before I am taken from you?" (2 Kings 2:9).

Think about it. That was an open ended question. Elisha could have asked for wealth, possessions, rank, position, honor...anything. But, he replies, "Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit." (2 Kings 2:9b).

When I think of some of my relatives, I certainly would not ask to inherit their spirit, their personality or their habits! Elijah, however, was someone whom God's Spirit rested. He honored God in everything he did, how he carried himself, how he served people, how he spoke. God oozed out of every pore so much so that Elisha desired a double portion of his spirit for himself.

My heart is brought into check this morning, as I reflect on my spirit. May God fill me with His Spirit to overflowing that the aroma of my life will be more delicious than a fresh baked pie. And in the end, may my children and grandchildren ask for a double portion for themselves.

Change Comes

I wish summer would ease its way out gradually, allowing its warm caress to linger just a bit longer. But not so. As I sit here, close to midnight, searching for words of wisdom or encouragement to share, the winds of autumn rattle the leaves outside my office windows. I haven't much to say. No inspiration here. The only thing I know, change is coming.

Change is everywhere: the bright colors of leaves, the coolness of air, the south-flying birds, the timing of night. As hard as I may wish, I cannot stop the change. It comes.

It's Time

I want to twirl and dance and sing at the top of my lungs! I want to laugh and giggle from the tips of my toes! That long awaited moment in time when everything is right! And yet, I fear my joy be misunderstood for pride.

When all is right in your world how can you hold it all in? Isn't it time to celebrate, to shout it from the mountain tops? I can't contain all that I feel so I start to ask the first person that I meet, "Join me, won't you, in the dance?" Yet, somehow my voice gets lost before it's found.

"What will they think? How can you speak?" my Accuser whispers in my ear. "Your pride is showing boldly, my dear. Speak not a word, skulk back behind the door and say no more."

So I run away. I fall silenced behind the door; the finger of my Accuser pointed straight at my heart.

But the One; the One I asked to dance, lifts my chin and speaks the Truth. "This isn't pride, my beauty. This is joy!"

Then suddenly with a strength beyond my own I turn the mirror of my Accuser on himself. Truth pierces his heart to the very core and drives him far away.

I stand accused, no more. I make my way out from behind that door of silence and shame. My heart is light. My toes start tapping. I start dancing. My voice is found. The words are flowing. My eyes finally meet the speaker of Truth. I ask once more, "Join me, won't you, in the dance?"

With gentle eyes and the softest voice the lifter of my chin says, "Yes. Yes, I will join you in the dance. It's time to celebrate! It's time to sing and shout from the mountain tops! It's time!"

A Wife's Words

"... And his wives led him astray." 1 Kings 11:3b

I learned very early in my marriage that a wife holds the power to breathe life into her husband or suck it all out.

When I was first married I had a bad habit of mentally keeping score with my husband. Every task I performed during the day, I'd make a mental tick mark in my head. At the end of the day, if my husband dared breathe one sigh or mention how tired he was I'd pull out my score sheet! If his tick marks didn't add up to mine or exceed them, then I'd let him know in no uncertain terms that he had no reason to be tired! In fact, I had EVERY reason to be more tired than he felt and I'd proceed to name off everything I did! Pronouncing myself the winner, my husband would promptly hand me his pulverized heart as my prize.

That was such a hurtful game to play. I don't know why I even played it. Maybe I felt the need to compete for sympathy? I don't really know.

Like the first woman, Eve, every woman holds the power to create at the tip of her tongue. Unlike the words from his mother that slide of his back into rebellion, the words of a wife sink deep into her husband's skin and soon become the definition of his form.

King Solomon was known as the wisest king that ever was and no other man has been made wiser since. He held the entire future success of Israel in his hands as long as he sought after God with all of his heart and kept God's laws. But, Solomon had an insatiable craving for women...women who worshiped gods...not God. We're told in 1 Kings 11:4 "As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the Lord his God, as the heart of David is father had been." With his change of heart, God tore the kingdom away from him.

If the wisest king who ever lived can be transformed by the words of his wives, how much more the lives of our husbands by the words we deliver or the scores we keep? I don't know about you, but I want to be a wife who breathes words of life into my husband.

Dawn's New Day

"...he is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after rain..." (2 Samuel 23:4)

Squinting the red, LED numbers into focus I pulled up the covers in frustration knowing there were at least six hours left to my slumber. Hour after hour, hard as I tried to bury myself deeper into my pillow, sleep still evaded me. My mind raced to the side of old fears. My mind wandered to thoughts that God and I had once resolved. I was restless and exhausted trying to figure out why I was battling with these thoughts again.

Soon, daybreak overwhelmed me and so did my prickly mood. Instead of sending my husband off to work with a kiss, I met his cheek with a grumble and stubbornly stayed wrapped in my covers of uneasy melancholy. Although I crawled out from them a while later and busied myself with my "to do" list my heart still felt heavy, uneasy, troubled. I just wanted to shake it off like a dog after a bath and dry off in the Sonshine. Each time I tried it seemed my efforts were thwarted by yet another reason to continue wearing a thick, syrupy, unwanted cloak of discontent.

Then, in the middle of the day, after finally accomplishing the simple task of sending out press releases for my Big E appearance with my book, "Auntie's House," I received an email from heaven! I received an invitation from a local network television producer to join her on her morning news show! My heart did the "happy dance" and I sent up a "Thank-you, Lord!" And yet, as soon as that gift came, my heart was covered in that thick syrupy cloak of discontent, again!

By evening, I threw up my hands and went to sulk by the pool. I watched the sun set behind the trees and felt my joy being swallowed like a bug in the mouth of the bats at dusk. "What's up with this, Lord?" I cried. Why can't I hang onto that joy you gave me? What's warring inside of me and why? With no clear answers, chalking it up as "one of those days," I retired early, praying for rest, hoping for a new day.

I woke the next morning, again before the alarm. This time it was already daybreak. I felt beckoned not tormented but I still craved my sleep. My body still reeling from the day before, I groggily asked, "God, are you waking me this morning?"

"Yes."

"Can I have just ten more minutes, please? I'm so tired."

"Yes. But, only ten!"

So, I closed my eyes and God woke me again, exactly ten minutes later. "Okay. I'm awake, God. Can I make myself a cup of coffee?"

"No. You can make yourself a cup of tea." (He knows me so well! When I drink coffee I can't sit still for very long)!

I quietly snuck downstairs to the kitchen, made my tea and tip-toed upstairs behind the door of my sanctuary. There I sat, sipping my tea and reading my Bible where I left off the day before. Nothing really struck me as I read. I wondered if I had just been talking to myself a few minutes ago in bed.

But, God assured me in his whisper, "No, it was me. I've called you out of slumber. Yesterday was a battle brought on from your Enemy to rob you of your joy. Today is a new beginning. I've called you into a new day to reclaim your joy...the joy of the gift of heaven. "

And, He brought me to this verse:

" 'When one rules over men in righteousness, when he rules in the fear of God, he is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after the rain that brings the grass from the earth.'

Is not my house right with God? Has he not made with me an everlasting covenant, arranged and secured in every part? Will he not bring to fruition my salvation and grant me my every desire?" (2 Samuel 23:3b-5)

Although this message was from God to King David, He used it to speak joy back into my heart. Yesterday was an attempt of my Enemy (Satan) to rob me of the joy God gave me...a desire of my heart come to pass by God's doing. If God hadn't gently called me out of my bed this morning, I would have never known and probably would still be wrapped in melancholy today.

Today is Dawn's New Day! It's secured by God's promise that He is my hope, my salvation, my joy and the great Giver of gifts. He delights in me and entrusts me with His message of hope and encouragement to those who will listen.

Making Memories

Today we made memories...Dakota and me...

We sat and cuddled

We sang all the Pooh Bear songs

We danced in the living room

We giggled at our silliness

We swung on swings

We picked pretty flowers

We touched the dew drenched clover

We walked around the block

We shared a few meals

We read our favorite bedtime stories

We said our prayers

We kissed and hugged

We whispered, "Goodnight"



It was a very, very good day.

It's More Than Just Sunday Dinner

"Remember today that your children were not the ones who saw and experienced the discipline of the Lord your God: his majesty, his mighty hand, his outstretched arm; But it was your own eyes that saw all these great things the Lord has done." (Deuteronomy 11:2,7)

Tagging along at the end of the baby boomers I barely recall the significant days of the free-lovin', drug tokin', party hoppin', bell-bottom wearin' generation. The closest I came to resembling anything from the '60's was the one pair of brown bell-bottom, hip-hugger jeans I wore that sported huge, white daisies all over them. Thank goodness I grew out of those in a year!

The '60's may have been a tumultuous decade, but as a kid, I never knew it. It's not that my family resembled the Cleavers from the '50's reruns of "Leave it to Beaver" on T. V. where life was never more difficult than a bad grade on a report card! But, like them, we'd gathered 'round the Sunday dinner table to share life and a good meal with those we loved most. Although we didn't live close to many relatives, my parents grew to love a few friends near by as though they were family. It was with those dear friends that we'd gather every week. We'd reconnect on every level from worshiping together to sharing stories over dessert or washing dishes.

When my own children started marrying, moving out of the house, and establishing families of their own I realized staying connected had to be a deliberate action. I didn't want to be that control freak mom or, God forbid, that overbearing mother-in-law but I did want to see my kids and grandchildren often. Even though I don't find joy in cooking, I do enjoy my children. So, hanging onto my Sunday dinner memories, I thought, "If you feed them, they will come," and I asked my kids if they'd like to establish a Sunday dinner tradition. Surprisingly, everyone looked forward to it.

Our first family Sunday dinner was last fall and except for an occasional weekend trip or event, our kids haven't missed a beat since! We've come to covet our time together and don't let anything take its place. When someone does have to miss out or come late, there's a heavy heart because this family connection has come to mean so much. We've establish a home; a place where we can be ourselves, share our hearts, our faith, tell stories from the past, dream about the future and everyone knows they're safe and they're loved.

God created life around family. He gave us the desire to make family connections from the very beginning of time. It's through the family that He intended His story to be shared with the next generation.

I cringe when I hear parent's say, "I don't want to force my religion (faith) on my kids. When they get older, they can decide for themselves if they believe in God, or not." My question for them is, "How can they believe in what they've never known?" How will they know unless we teach them?

Children learn everything by what we say and do; by what we don't say and don't do. The message of our lives, our beliefs are crystal clear to them. God knew this. That's why, in Deuteronomy, He says, "...your children were not the ones who saw and experienced the discipline of God...but it was your own eyes..."! In other words, our children won't grow up knowing God's story unless they hear it from us! What better time to share our faith than over a meal?

It's more than just Sunday dinner that holds our family together. It's our common bond of faith in God woven into everything we do.

Magic Wand or Magic Eyes?

"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
1 Samuel 16:7

If life were like the fairy tales we grew to love as children, I believe that magic wands would be a hot commodity. Spouting a spiffy phrase and with a flick of the wrist our reality could be changed to suit our own desires. Wouldn't that be glorious? We could be the masters of our own destinies! We could control our own universe! Think of all the possibilities!

Remember that guy who cut you off in traffic this morning? Presto! He's now a squashed toad in the middle of the interstate. Oh, and your boss who seems to be less than fair when handing out accolades? Presto! She's been fired and replaced by someone who can't stop singing your praise! What about your kids who refuse to do as you say? Presto! They're the national poster children for the "honor your mother & father" campaign. And, that friend who talked behind your back yesterday? Presto! She's now come down with a permanent case of laryngitis.

Okay...the sadistic side of my evil self is showing. But, honestly, don't we all think in these cartoon images sometimes when people wrong us? Isn't inflicting pain for pain something we tend to want when we've been hurt, humiliated or angered? Or, don't we find ourselves wanting to change the negative realities of a wounding experience instantly into a fairy tale ending where everyone loves us and we live happily ever after?

That's not reality. People hurt us. We are wounded. We do experience pain. We bleed. There's no such thing as a magic wand that can change our world instantly. But, we do have choices. One choice is to allow our wounds to bleed, fester, become infected with poison and kill us (spiritually or physically). The second choice is to ask for magic eyes!

"Hold on!" you exclaim. "You just said there's no such thing as a magic wand! But, you now tell me to ask for something even more ridiculous, like magic eyes?!"

Yes, magic eyes. They're not literally new eyeballs that you insert into your head. It's all about perspective! It's best said in a short story called "The Magic Eyes: A Little Fable" included in the book "Forgive and Forget" by Lewis B. Smedes. Here is an excerpt:

"There was one remedy, (the angel said), only one, for the hurt of a wounded heart. Fouke would need the miracle of the magic eyes...a new way of looking at things through magic eyes could heal the hurt flowing from the wounds of yesterday.

"Fouke protested. 'Nothing can change the past,' he said....

" 'Yes, poor hurting man, you are right,' the angel said. 'You cannot change the past, you can only heal the hurt that comes to you from the past. And you can heal it with the vision of the magic eyes.'

" 'And how can I get your magic eyes?' pouted Fouke.

" 'Only ask, desiring as you ask, and they will be given you.

"Fouke could not ask at once, for he had grown to love his hatred. But the pain of his heart finally drove him to want and to ask for the magic eyes that the angel had promised. So he asked. And the angel gave.

"Soon Hilda (his wife) began to change in front of Fouke's eyes, wonderfully and mysteriously. He began to see her as a needy woman who loved him instead of a wicked woman who betrayed him."

Like the angel in this fable, God grants us a viewing of others as He sees them, through His magic eyes. When the pain of our hearts drives us to want God's magic eyes, all we need do is ask. Then, and only then, will our wounds begin to heal.

"What?! The Curtains?!"

" 'Test me on this,' says the Lord God Almighty, 'and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.' " (Malachi 3:10b)

One of the first "official" dates we had, Peter took me to see "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." I quickly found out, sitting next to him in the lounge-style, Jerry Lewis Theater, that British humor is a bit, shall we say, "off." I could barely understand their accents, let alone catch the punch lines or make sense of the plot. But, it's one of those classic quotable movies, filled with one-liners that seem funnier hours after you've left the theater.

Our favorite scene is where Sir Lancelot is trying to convince his son Herbert there are benefits to marrying a girl of which Herbert has no interest. They're standing in front of an open castle window, curtains blowing and Sir Lancelot surveying the land outside says, "One day lad, all this will be yours!"

"What? The curtains?" asks Herbert.

"No, not the curtains, lad! All you can see stretched out over the hills and valleys of this land. That'll be your kingdom, lad," Sir Lancelot explains.

Weeks have passed since I mentally put away the knights, the pawns, my queen and the king of my cosmic chess board. I'm not playing games anymore. So, prayerfully, I've placed our full tithe in the offering plate for over a month. God has stood next to me at the open window of my heart and said "Test me in this...test me to see if I will not provide for all your needs and bless you beyond your imagination." I wasn't interested in testing God. There were enough examples in my past that pointed to His faithfulness. I just wanted to put aside my fears, be obedient and trust Him for everything. I mean, EVERYTHING...even the curtains.

The same curtains have hung in my living and dining rooms for twenty-two years! I know this because my daughter-in-law asked my son a couple weeks ago, "How long has your mother had these curtains?" He replied, "They're the only curtains I've ever known." Oh my! I knew they were old, but I'd never counted the years until that moment! He turned twenty-two a few weeks ago.

I've been meaning to buy new curtains for quite some time, especially after the last washing when the ball fringe started falling off. So, with God's promise of provision engraved on my heart, I stood under the archway between the two needy rooms a few days ago and said, "Lord, I don't have the money to buy new curtains, but I know you do. I'm trusting you to provide."

That afternoon my mother-in-law dropped in and unknowingly asked me if I could use some curtains. She wasn't fond of some she'd purchased last year but she thought they'd look nice in my downstairs rooms. I answered, "What?! The curtains?!" Not only did she have enough curtains to replace the weary ones, there's even more to go into my new office whose windows have remained bare since spring!

It's such a little thing, curtains that is, in the bigger scope of our financial needs. But, to me, it was a big thing. God says, "Test me in this..." He is faithful even with the littlest of needs.

Cosmic Chess Game

"The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy but I have come that they might have life and have it to the full." John 10:10

I use to think that tithing was like playing a cosmic chess game with God. I thought God would bless me according to how much I gave. If I didn't give enough or anything at all then I'd coward away from God expecting some crisis to hit my household the next week. You know those crises: the dishwasher and the washing machine break within moments of each other and that routine $25 oil change for the car turns out to be $1000 repair!

It was times like those that I'd spin my head heavenward, arms raised above my head, shaking my clenched fists at God screaming, "What's up with this? If I can't afford to give you enough, why do you keep taking more from me than I ever have to give?!! How does that work, God?!"

I'd get angrier with all of the taking. I'd stop giving all together until I heard another tithing sermon. Again, I'd sit and listen for something I may have missed all the other times. Again, I'd try to give what I could (less than 10% God asks) because that's all I could bring myself to trust God. Again, the cosmic chess game began until God called "Check mate!"

That's how it was until a month ago. My pastors began a series called "Kingdom Economics." That first Sunday I settled into my pew for the "tithing sermon" and mentally pulled out the chess board. I started setting up my imaginary pawns, knights, my queen and the king. Once my side was setup I noticed that God's side remained empty. His chess pieces were still in the box.

"Hmmm," I thought. "Not interested in playing this time, God?" No response.

I listened more intently to the pastor and nearing the end of his sermon based on an all too familiar scripture, (Malachi 3:6-14) he said something I'd never heard before: "When we tithe 10% of our income, 90% of our income is submitted to multiply under God's (umbrella) of blessing. When we don't tithe (at all), 100% is open to the Robber, the Destroyer, the Devourer, Satan himself! Our blessings are not protected by God...Satan will steal all of your increase!"

At that moment I cleared the chess board of all my pieces and put the game board back into it's imaginary box. It wasn't God's cosmic chess game I was being forced to play. It wasn't His chess pieces on the board all these years! I'd been playing a cosmic chess game with my Enemy!

G P S

"...he has turned away from me and has not carried out my instructions."

1 Samuel 15:11b

I think the GPS is the greatest invention since....I don't know...indoor plumbing?!! (I didn't want to say sliced bread). For someone who is directionally challenged it's been a huge help.

Back in the dark ages of 1978 when I first got my licence I remember the angst I felt when all I had to rely on was my parent's written directions. Since my father was a truck driver, they were always great directions but he assumed I'd paid attention to where all the streets were in town (and all the surrounding towns from here to Maine) all my years as his passenger! I remember his frustration with me when I'd have to ask for the same directions over and over again. Finally, after a few weeks the streets became familiar and I could cruise around town on my own with confidence.

Then, I graduated to maps! I hate maps! They're like reading a foreign language. Did I tell you I was directionally challenged? Do you know what it's like to try to read a map when you can't locate your destination on the map? Do you know what it's like to do all that while you're driving...alone...on an interstate? Not happening! So...if I got lost (which, thank God never happened) I'd have to pull off the highway, find a gas station, physically get out of my car and ask for directions from the gas attendant. Also, not happening!

Most of my successful map reading took place from the passenger seat after meeting my husband, Peter. We love traveling by car especially to places we've never been before. Peter's got a great sense of direction (hallelujah) but there were times he's needed me to navigate off a map. Again, frustration showed up when he'd have to point out where we were and where we were going before I could make any sense out of where we were.

Finally, on our last trip to Orlando, Florida we were introduced to my friend, GPS! What a pleasure it was to travel with her! She had a soothing yet confident voice that successfully guided us to every destination without one drop of sweat from our brow (or armpit). Even if we took a wrong turn, she redirected our path with her reassuring phrase "recalculating route." We learned quickly that she would constantly repeat that phrase until we followed her directions and got back on track. We also learned, rather quickly, where the mute button was located. We could choose to ignore GPS and go our own way. That's not to say we wouldn't find our destination if we continued to ignore GPS. Sometimes there were more scenic routes we preferred or we'd found a faster route but they weren't always the best route.

It was the same for king Saul in the Old Testament (see 1 Sam. 13-15). God gave him specific instructions on what to do to succeed in battle. But in the heat of it all he questioned God's timing. He thought his ways were better. Sure, he won the battle. Sure, he got to his destination. Sure, there was great celebration. Sure, he plundered great wealth. But, he deviated from God's plan. He followed his own directions and took credit for it all. That's when he lost everything. Here's what Samuel tells Saul in 1 Samuel 13:13-14

" 'You acted foolishly,' Samuel said. 'You have not kept the command the Lord your God gave you; if you had he would have established your kingdom over Israel for all time. But now your kingdom will not endure; the Lord has sought a man after his own heart and appointed him leader of his people, because you have not kept the Lord's command.'"

It's like that when God give us clear directions isn't it? He maps out our route and if we follow it we get to His planned destination. But, if we veer off His path, taking everything into our own hands, He'll warn us a few time, like the GPS, "recalculating route." If we get down-right arrogant about choosing our own route to get there, God will mute himself and leave us to get there on our own. We might reach our destination thinking we accomplished something great but we may have missed out on God's mission altogether. God's mission will still be accomplished, just not by us. We end up losing it all.

Have you received clear directions from GPS (God's Planned Strategy)? Are you staying on course, listening for that familiar voice? Has the phrase "recalculating route" been muted and you're now following your own directions? If so...STOP! Un-Mute! Let God recalculate your route before you lose it all!

Get Ready... Position Yourself

"...Samuel called to Saul on the roof 'get ready' and I will send you on your way." (1 Samuel 9: 26 NIV)

July marked the end of the dreary, rainy, trapped-inside-the-house days. Living here in New England our summers are short and frankly, by the end of June, I felt cheated! But alas, as sure as June turned into July, summer finally appeared. The long-awaited days of sun, heat and humidity were welcomed like a long-lost friend.

Each day the sun kissed my cheek I felt beckoned to play outside and reacquaint myself with God's beauty. It's those sun-kissed days that God feels especially close. It's as though He inspires, teaches, speaks through his creation directly to my soul. Whether it be a lesson in abiding taught by a patient, fluttering monarch perched on the blossom next to my lawn chair or understanding his divine plan of sowing and reaping by tending to my vegetable garden, I know God is speaking.

Sometimes God is more direct. The Sunday before I was to attend the She Speaks writer's conference I attended church without my husband, Peter. As the worship service ended and the pastor was introducing his sermon he said God had given him a lot of words for people during his prayer time that morning. Luckily, I had already opened my journal and was ready to write. I mean, if God had spoken I wanted to record everything he said! Then, the pastor looked directly at me and said, "Dawn. I don't know where Pete is but the Lord spoke to me in the prayer room about you guys and somebody else got these words that I think are applicable...'Get ready and position yourselves.'" I not only wrote those words down, I promptly texted them to my husband!

In the three weeks that have followed those words have continually rung in our ears. "Get ready...position yourselves." For what, Lord? My new book? A new opportunity? Spiritual warfare? A good hunt for Pete? What? What could God possibly have in store for us?

Then, today God lead me to read 1 Samuel 9 & 10 that tells the story of Samuel anointing Saul to be Israel's first king. Samuel instructs Saul to "get ready" to be sent. Getting ready isn't passive. It's active. You're making preparations, getting things together, doing the necessary things in order to go.

Once Saul is ready, Samuel gets him alone, anoints his head with oil and prophesies over him. Samuel explains that Saul will come to the land of Gibeah where he will meet some prophets. The Holy Spirit will empower him and he will prophesy as well. But, most importantly he "will be changed into a different person." Then, Saul was to position himself in the land of Gilgal and "wait" seven days until Samuel meets up with him. Together they will worship God and Saul will receive further instructions.

I'm not exactly sure what God is preparing us for. I'm not sure if we're getting ready for the right task. But, until that task is revealed, we are readying our hearts, submitting our plans, our desires, our passions before our God. We're allowing change in ourselves and with each other. We are positioning ourselves before His throne and waiting for further instructions.

What is it that God may be readying your heart? Are you asking, what's next? Are you willing to get ready? Do you see the situation you're in as part of that readying process? Are you willing to let God change you? Are you positioning your heart to wait for further instructions?

Behind Every Good Woman...

We often take advantage of "Cheap Tuesday" at our local movie theater. My husband, Peter even sits through chick flicks with me now and again. A few years ago it was Julie & Julia. The movie is the story of Julia Child, best known for her 1960's televised french cooking show and Julie, a New York City woman who took a year to cook and blog her way through Julia Child's recipes.

I'm not at all passionate about cooking. In fact it's inconceivable in my mind how the words joy and cooking can be in the same sentence! But, I do like the actress Meryl Streep who played Julia Child and I like every role she's played. If I were honest, I really went to see Meryl.

Surprisingly, the movie was NOT about the love of cooking. Yes, it was about two women who loved to cook. Yes, they made outrageous dishes that made the audience drool but more importantly it was about two women whose passion could not be contained in a sauce pan. It was about the journey of sharing their passion through writing and the husbands behind their success. Now that's something I identify with more than cooking!

Writing has been a passion of mine since fifth grade. Back then, I wrote all the time. If I wasn't writing in my journal I was writing a letter to my cousin, my grandmother, or a long distance friend. I was happy just writing, writing, writing. But, what I lacked was direction, guidance, and mentorship. I've fumbled my way through a few internships in college but nothing that lended itself to any significant writing career choice. I settled for writing as a hobby - something I enjoyed but nothing I would ever be able to share.

Then a few years ago, a sweet woman placed a Proverbs 31 Ministry magazine in my hands. Part of the ministry of P31 is to mentor and train Christian women who have a passion to speak or write the words God has placed in their hearts for the encouragement of others. They do this through their annual She Speaks conference. As I read more about the conference I knew this was a divine appointment. For the first time, there was someone who understood my passion. There was an outlet to do more with it than just write in a secret journal that I kept to myself.

Much has happened since I first learned about She Speaks. My journey in my passion for writing took some funny twists through physical injuries, spiritual warfare, family crises, forgiveness and release. Through all of these turns, never once was I left alone to manage on my own. Never once was I allowed to let my passion to write dwindle. Like Julie & Julia, I too have been given the precious gift of a supportive husband. He nursed me to health, sacrificed financially, weathered heavy spiritual battles, courageously saw us through family crises, walked alongside me as I learned to forgive and praised God for the release of my heart's desire to write.

There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not thankful for God giving me such a loving, supportive husband who wishes only the best for me. Don't get me wrong, he's not perfect, but neither am I. Trust me, we have our ugly, stinky moments when we wonder what the heck were we thinking when we chose each other. But, in the big scope of our lives, when I see all the little things he does each day to show me he loves me: when he constantly encourages me to write, when I consider all that he does to point me toward Christ, when I witness God in Him then, I know I've been blessed.

The old saying goes, "Behind every good man is a loving, supportive woman." I say, it goes both ways. Thank you, Peter, for being a loving, supportive, godly man behind this woman! I love you.