Ramblings and Object Lessons

Often when I think of Christians spreading the gospel, certain pictures come into my mind. One of the most common is the picture of a dandelion with the seeds, borne in the vapory arms of the wind, blowing to all corners of the world. But today, while preparing for Sabbath, a very different picture intruded into my thoughts. I say intruded, because I was rather fond of the ethereal dandelion picture and this one certainly wasn't filled with tranquil beauty.

I was sweeping the hallway, trying to corral the most obstreperous balls of cat hair I've ever seen. I still think long-haired cats are lovely, but I don't like sweeping their hair! I was beginning to get a bit irritated with the inanimate cat hairs when the picture intruded.

Maybe spreading the gospel is sort of like being a clump of cat hair. The lessons began to form themselves in my slow brain. (Remember, this blog is about my ramblings, so...)

1. Cat hairs are dead. They have no life in them whatsoever. In order to finish the work, God's people must be dead to self.

2. Cat hairs cannot reproduce themselves. They can only be produced by a cat. We cannot make anyone a Christian. And we shouldn't try to make someone be a copy of ourselves. Only God can produce a changed life. And the only one who should be copied is Jesus.

3. The presence of cat hair proves the presence of a cat in the vicinity. The presence of a Christian should prove the presence of the Christian's God, too.

4. How often does cat hair need to be swept up? Well, I could sweep every day and the next day there will be enough hair on the floors to warrant the floors being swept again. So with God's servants. As the devil tries to clean his habitation of the pesky things, he wakes up the next morning to find that they are back again. Is it any credit to the cat hairs that they keep bothering our house? No, the credit goes to the cat. No credit is due to the Christians who continually harass and render impossible the complete rule that the devil wants to have. The credit all goes to the Creator.

So, I still like the serenity of the dandelion picture. But I needed the less glorified picture of the cat hair.

Happy Sabbath!

Jewels

My nephew, Tyler, is seven years old. His mother is Chinese, born and raised in a home where Christianity was unknown. My step-brother married her and eventually brought her and their son to America. At one point soon after their marriage, Holly asked my step-brother about Christianity. He told her that he didn't want to talk about it, but that when he took her to see his dad and step-mom his step-mom would tell Holly all she wanted to know about Jesus and Christianity. Thus, some of the first words out of Holly's mouth when she met my mom were, "Jason said you tell me 'bout Jesus! I Christian, I just don't know anything 'bout Jesus. But Jason say you tell me." My mom almost cried.

Soon after that visit, my step-brother and Holly divorced. But Holly told my mom and step-dad that they were her American parents, she still loved them, and would they please take Tyler to visit them for a little while every summer and teach him all about Jesus? She lived in California and couldn't afford to leave her job, but she desperately wanted Tyler to learn about Jesus. "You teach Tyler about Jesus," she told Mom, "and he'll come home and teach me."

We haven't been able to have him every summer, but whenever he comes, it's pure joy! The last time Tyler was with us he had just turned five. He loved learning the songs like "Zacchaeus," "Only a Boy Named David," and "The Wise Man Built His House Upon a Rock." He asked my mom one time, "Grandma Shari, why did God die? My mommy said God died but she didn't know why and I should ask you. Why did God die?" Later I found him playing with his transformer toys in the living room, having worship with them and trying to teach them to sing "Into My Heart, Lord Jesus"! When he went home that summer, he told his mom they were going to pray before he went to bed. She said she didn't know how to pray. "That's okay, Mommy," he told her, "You just get on your knees beside the bed with me and I'll pray. Oh, and you have to close your eyes and fold your hands." Holly called Mom the day after he went home to thank her for teaching Tyler about Jesus. "Now he'll teach me!" she told Mom excitedly. Oh, what precious jewels these two are!

Now Tyler is seven and visiting us again. At first he couldn't remember the songs he had learned two years ago. When Mom asked if he remembered any of them, he screwed up his adorable little face for a minute, then pronounced solemnly, "Yes. One. I think it said something like 'Jesus loves me this I know.'" Of all the songs we had tried to teach him, I'm so glad that if only one stuck with him it was that one! As the first day wore on, he remembered more and more stories and songs that we had taught him. When he and Grandma Shari went to the post office to mail some packages, he asked her what they were going to make for supper. "Can we have those meatballs?" he asked. "I mean the meatballs that aren't really meat? I liked those. Those were the best meatballs I've ever tasted!" His delight at his grandpa's garden knew no bounds. "Of course, it's best to grow everything yourself!" he declared, much to his grandpa's satisfaction. (Little does the imp know that the surest way to win his grandpa's heart is to admire his garden!)

I am reminded again of our dear Savior's words spoken so long ago, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God" (Mk. 10:14). 

Little children, little children

Who love their Redeemer

Are the jewels, precious jewels,

His loved and His own.

A Trip to the River

Psalm 65 is a beautiful psalm that recounts some of the things God does for His people. This poem was inspired by verse 9 which says, "Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it."

The River of God

The river of God is full of water,

Why stand you so still upon its brink?

The river of God is full of water,

Kneel down, and take a drink!

“What kind of water?” I hear you ask,

“Is it clean and free from dirt?”

Nothing can enter God's land that defiles,

No sin, no pain, no hurt.

“How much does it cost?” you ask again,

“Is it really free indeed?”

It is free to all who will drink of it,

To all who sense their need.

“I'm glad that it is so full and free,

But how long will it last?” you sigh.

All through the years of eternity,

And its tide will always be high.

The river of God is full of water,

Do you still stand on its brink?

Linger no longer! Move quickly; act now!

Kneel down, and take a drink!

Hard Journeys

"This journey is hard." 

My uncle, my mom, and I were in town after visiting my great-grandmother. Mom had gone into Taco Bell to get something for us to eat and my uncle and I were waiting in the car. Uncle Mark and Mom had been talking about serious matters and he remarked, "Oh, Bekah, when you're young it's so much easier to change paths." Then under his breath he muttered, "This journey is hard." 

Yes, the journey of life can be hard. But it's kind of like breaking a path through the deep snow. It's tough going, but when someone else has gone before you and you follow in their footsteps, it's easier. The Lord never promised this life would be easy, but He did promise to go before us and break the path, so to speak. When we walk in the path He has for us, He takes the brunt of the work and the majority of the pain and labor. It's when we strike out on our own that the going gets truly hard.

I want to stay in the footsteps of my Savior. Wherever He leads, I want to follow. Life is difficult, but a life lived contrary to God's plans for you is just plain miserable, in addition to being the hardest path of all. "...The way of transgressors is hard" Prov. 13:15. "But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day" Prov. 14:18.

My uncle's comment reminded me of one of the songs our choir director taught us this past year, called "Pathway of Hope." The words are by Joseph M. Martin.

The road is long, the way is narrow,

The path is steep, the mountains high.

Lord, when we walk through valleys filled with fear,

You wipe away our tears,

We know that You are near.

And when we stray, You are our Shepherd.

And when we fall, You give us grace.

When we are lost, You find us where we are,

You hold us to Your heart with everlasting arms.

Oh, Lord, You are the way, You are the journey;

Come walk beside us as we go.

Lord, You are the way, You are the journey;

You are our legacy, eternal destiny.

You are the pathway of hope.

Come join us faithful pilgrims,

We'll walk the road as one.

And when we've walked ten thousand years,

The journey will have just begun.

We'll walk with God, through every valley

We'll walk with God, through every storm.

And on the day our earthly walk is done, we'll sing before the throne:

"We've never walked alone!"

Oh, Lord, You are the way, You are the journey;

Come walk beside us as we go.

Lord, You are the way, You are the journey;

You are our legacy, eternal destiny.

You are the pathway of hope.

"Catching Up" part 2...

No, I did not intend for this much time to intervene between part 1 and part 2! But lest any more time elapse...

Soon after getting back from Cuba, it was time for Christmas break. Everyone at Ouachita Hills knows what happens during Christmas break -- GYC. This year my younger sister (Carli) and I were flying to Seattle, WA, attend the meetings. I was eagerly anticipating the time alone with my teenage sister. The last several years I've been away from home more often than not and this sister-time was long overdue. Not only did we both thoroughly enjoy our time together (despite my getting the flu!), but I had an added joy. My sister made a decision to give her heart and life to the Lord! My heart is still singing!

I came back to ... well, as the principal said, there's only been one year in the history of OHA where the disciplinary committee has met more times than it has this year. Much of this year has been the proverbial nightmare. We've lost several students so far (for various reasons, some completely unrelated to school). My heart aches over each one. One of my dear friends was reminding me recently that we cannot see the impact that has been made on these students. Even when it seems we've completely failed to impact a student, or anyone for that matter, we won't know until heaven what the Lord was able to accomplish through us, despite our flaws. I'm so glad our God is so powerful!


Love's Harvest

Love bestowed is never wasted,
Though sometimes it seems to be.
With our vision, dimmed and clouded,
We cannot see eternity.

I cannot count the grains of wheat
Resulting from one plant, can you?
But there is One who counts each grain
And sees more future harvests, too.

Harvests that we cannot see
Of souls redeemed from Satan's snares;
The ones we thought would never change,
Would never learn Christ's robe to wear --

This is the harvest we cannot see;
Love Himself must tend these seeds
Within the hearts that seem as stone.
His grace alone can meet their needs.

The grace that won this heart of mine
Is strong to reach their hearts as well.
Stones will yet yield to the strength of Love's seed
And each heart will become a fruitful dell

Filled with the harvest Love brings forth
In the hearts of each that yield to His hand.
The love that we give is but reflection dim
Of the Love that came from that heavenly land.

Though time after time we've rejected His grace,
Christ's love for us remains the same.
His love is not wasted, not one little bit.
He'll use ours, too, to honor His name.

Someday, when we reach Canaan-land,
We'll see the harvest Love brought in.
Keep pressing on; reflect Christ's love;
He'll complete the work He's begun within.

Catching Up (part 1)

These last two months have been so full that I haven’t had time to blog. Now for the catch-up… Don’t worry; I’ll spread it over several blogs rather than one long one!

Around the middle of November, Ouachita Hills took a three-week mission trip to Cuba. When Pastor Soler (who is in charge of the mission trips) asked me to go along as the female staff member, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it. I told him of the obstacles and we prayed that God’s will would be done. Within a few hours every obstacle was taken care of, even to the finances! I was going to Cuba!

Finally the day came when we loaded the bus and headed to the airport. We were a group of 15, but we had only six visas when we boarded the plane in Little Rock, AR. When we landed in Atlanta, Pastor Soler checked his email and said the number of visas was now nine. When we landed in Miami, he had received all 15 visas by email. Praise the Lord! This was just one of the multitude of miracles the Lord worked for us during this endeavor.

The lady who met us at customs and helped us get everything through with no problems; the translator who had never heard the Bible stories before (she loved them!) and who hugged the Bible to her heart when we gave it to her; the bus driver who cried when we gave him his first Bible; the churches who had never seen young people do a whole evangelistic series; the people who were touched by the Word of God and who wrapped themselves around our hearts; the churches who adopted us and told us we were one of them now – the stories and the memories are too many to tell here. But in heaven I’ll be happy to share them all!

When I went to India, one grandfather was killed, and now when I was in Cuba my other grandfather died. But what a precious hope is ours! The Lord showed me His loving care in so many ways that day I found out about my grandpa’s death. The academy students I was working with had no idea what I was struggling with, but just by their buoyant spirits and cheerfulness they brightened my day. Peter, Nathan, and Sofia willingly gave up their free time to help me prepare the crafts for the meeting that night while the other kids relaxed. They had no idea how much their uncomplaining sacrifice gave me the courage I needed to get through that day. That evening as we were riding on the bus to our different sites, someone started singing Revelation 21:4-7 which says: “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And He that sat upon the throne said, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ And He said unto me, ‘Write: for these words are true and faithful.’ And He said unto me, ‘It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be My son.’” Truly we have a blessed hope!

This poem came from that experience:

Cloudy Blessings

Thank You, Lord, for strength in weakness;

Perfect peace within my pain;

Power to meet each strong temptation;

Promises to meet again.

Thank You, Lord, for trust in tempest;

Faith when darkest seems the night;

Courage when the heart is weary;

Assurance that all will work for right.

Thank You, Lord, for cloudy blessings;

For Your ways I do not know;

Thank You for Your patient guidance

O’er the path You only know.

The feet - and hands - of Jesus

"So after He had washed their feet, and had taken His garments, and was set down again, He said unto them, 'Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.'" So said Jesus in John 13:12-15.

Yesterday we celebrated communion at church. As always, we had the footwashing service before taking part in the bread and juice. I followed some of the other ladies into the room where we would wash each others feet. Being a visitor, I didn't know the church members very well. When I walked into the room, there were two or three of the regular members already in the room. Immediately, I noticed her. I saw her every time I visited this church. She has one hand that's dramatically twisted at the wrist and her fingers dangle uselessly from that hand, though her other hand is normal. I heard the voice of my Best Friend whisper in my ear, "Go, serve her." Sitting in the empty chair next to her, I asked if she had someone to serve her. The reply was a quiet no. "May I?" I asked, wondering if she would feel comfortable to serve and be served by an almost complete stranger. As she whispered "Yes!" I saw her eyes sparkle. Taking the bowl of warm water and the towel, I knelt at her feet and began to wash them, feeling as though I had the privilege of washing the feet of Jesus Himself. In fact, I did wash the feet of Jesus in the person of my sister. What a privilege!

Then she brought another bowl of water and another towel, and bent to wash my feet. As she gently took my feet in her deformed hands to dry them, I almost cried. Jesus was washing my feet. Oh, for the day when her hands will be straight and strong! But what a privilege was mine that Sabbath. I washed the feet of the Savior when I washed my sister's feet, but Jesus washed my feet in return when my sister washed my feet.

"Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

Lord, let me always serve You in the person of Your hurting children.