The Cross

Rugged wood
Full of splinters made by nails driven into His flesh
Blood soaked from His wounds
The odors of dried blood and human misery
Darkness overcomes the day
The veil is torn
Forsaken; alone

Separated from the Father by the weight of my sin
Glad obedience to the will of the Father
Deserted by friends and followers; only a few there with His mother
Gasping for air
Giving pardon and hope
Offering Himself in my place
“It is finished!”

Taken from the cross
Wrapped in cloth
Laid in a borrowed grave
Sorrow  and fear among the disciples
The women arise early and go
An empty tomb!
Where is He?

Run and tell
Looking in wonder
Waiting. . . Waiting
Suddenly He is with them again
More teaching, more miracles
Glorified body
He goes to the Father

News spreads
Followers gather
Miracles happen
Persecution and death to His followers
The Church is born
A new covenant created
Time passes

The gospel covers the world
Non-believers scoff
The eastern sky splits and He returns
He gathers those who believe and follow
He destroys evil
His bride dwells with Him in peace
Everlasting worship in His presence

I look at the cross, see Jesus there
And repent
Forgiven, I see the hope of glory
Tears of gratitude stream
I see the cross, empty, and know I am His
Whatever He asks, I will do
Now and forever

Success

At my 13 year old grand-daughter's church, the youth leader recently asked the group, "Who is the most successful person you know?'

Her answer, "My grandma."

The next question was, "Why?"

She said, "Because she knows about everything."

When my son called to tell me this story, I had quite a reaction. I felt pleased that she thought so well of me and disbelief that she chose me. I wondered if she knew very many people from which to choose. I denied I was successful.

Then, I thought about it for a little while and began to define success. I usually think, as most usually do, of success in terms of money or things. But success is really much more than that.

I think I have decided that success really means, at least for me, to believe in Jesus Christ as my Savior, listen and obey Him, and share Him with others. In doing these three things, joy and blessing follow. If I am filled with the joy of the Lord and others see that in me and want to know Him because of it, that is success.

I know that all knowledge and wisdom come from God so if I learn from my mistakes, gain wisdom and then share what I've learned with those around me and they learn also, that is success.

I will count my life successful when I hear my Lord say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."  

Until then, I bask in the glow: a grandmother proud of her grand-daughter's praise. She is a delight to my heart and a joy to our family.

Seriously Tempted

I recently read an excerpt from the poem Seriously Tempted by T.L.Cooper. (http://writewithtlc.tlcooper.com)

Christina Katz, The Prosperous Writer, (http://christinakatz.com) defined caring as being “concerned or solicitous towards, to make provisions for or to look out for, and to have an affection or concern for.”

Would I describe myself as caring? Or am I habitually care-taking?

She defined habitual care-taking as “an addiction to niceness, people-pleasing and an overwhelming desire to control the impressions of others in order to be perceived as good.”

I too often find myself trying too hard to please others and have them think me a good person.

In the last few years, though, I have come to know myself better. I see the person God created and. . . I like me!

I don’t care so much what others think of me. I no longer want to be a people pleaser. I want, instead, to be a God pleaser.

When I first read this poem, I thought how much I am like that: easily becoming what someone else expects me to be.

Reading it again, I begin to pray:
    Holy God,
    Let me be
        “your heart’s desire
        What you want of me”*

    And I want to be
        “merely a shell of me
        An empty vessel filled by you.”*

*from the poem Seriously Tempted T.L.Cooper (http://writewithtlc.tlcooper.com)

Memories

Memories of my life and my family are important to me.

They are all I have,
All that is just mine.
No one can take them from me.

Memories of my mom,
And of my dad,
Of the life we lived,
Bring me a certain comfort.

Memories of my childhood
And my growing up years:
My older brother drawing a playhouse for me in the dirt,
Later driving me to movies or home from football games.

Memories of my dear sister
And me playing in the creek
And on the bus or riding horses with cousins;
The days of sharing a room, clothes and secrets.

Memories of young love
And early married years filled with babies.
Then watching boys grow
Into young men with families of their own.

Memories bring me joy.
Even the hard times are good to remember
If I can look at them, learn their lessons
And become better.

A better listener
A better doer
A better partner
A better parent

A better follower of Christ.

I always want to be better
But seldom am.
I fail miserably at learning the lessons.
I can only be who and how I am.

It is only as I truly empty myself
And let the Holy Spirit live through me
That I ever become a
Better version of myself.

Memories of who I was
Replaced by reminders
Of who I am. . .
A Child of the King.

The Book of My Life

"At times, all of us may wonder exactly how God wants to use us. If we just offer ourselves to Him, God will take what feels like random letters and spell beautiful words through each of us. Just by being yourself, you reflect God's beautiful design." ~~ Margaret Feinberg in Being Yourself. 

My prayer asking God to use me to "spell" something beautiful with my life:

Holy God,
When you write the book of my life, may the words come from the letters of my heart.
May your Spirit fill me moment by moment so I share your goodness, grace and love.
May the gifts you've given me be used to serve and encourage those around me.
May I live a life of obedience. 
May I be real and authentic; my true self.
May I worship you in all I do and praise you for who you are. 
May it be that I am a follower of Christ.

Time for a New Beginning

Dearest Friends,

It's been a long, hot summer but Fall is just around the corner.  School is back in session and it feels like a New Beginning.

I've spent the summer visiting family in Oklahoma and Arkansas, loving on my new grandson, and trying to keep up with my life. Now, I'm ready to begin writing again.

I missed these times with you. I doubted I had anything of worth to share. I felt myself sinking back into depression and alone-ness. God showed me I need to write here. He has given me a gift and I must use it. 

It doesn't matter what I think or feel about this gift. It only matters that I obey Him and share my thoughts and prayers. I must share my God through my words.

I don't know where He will lead me in this. I only know that I will follow.

Get ready. The fog slowly lifts and I see the View From My Window again.

He Makes Me Laugh

Who makes you laugh? For me, this is most often my husband. We've been married almost 40 years and nearly every time I get upset or we start to argue, he comes up with something to make me laugh. (It's tough to argue when your are laughing!) Also, when I feel bad about anything or am just in a blue mood, he says or does something to make me smile so I'll feel better. He is a clown at heart and always has a movie line, song lyric or Bible quote to fit any occasion.

Some of his jokes may seem old or corny to our kids and their families, but to me they just showcase who he is and how he has always been. Sometimes I don't catch the joke; it just goes right over my head. That makes him sad. He says it's no good to tell something funny if I don't get it or he has to explain. He feels that takes the fun away. So I try to listen carefully so I can laugh with him. That's easy to do because I love him and he's wonderfully good to me.

He can't stand to see me sad or down. If I cry, he's done for. It's a good thing I don't cry on purpose to manipulate him. He'd give me the the world and the moon if he could because he is kind and generous to a fault. But, if he gets angry, his brown eyes flash with fire and the air around him snaps & pops. Lightning flashes seem almost visible. He seldom gets angry with me, but injustices in the world ignite his fire within.

I can't believe I'm the lucky girl who caught him. He's the greatest! Not only is he cute and funny, but he is kind and generous and full of love for me and our sons. I'm grateful he married me all those years ago. I'm glad he still makes me laugh.