A Fallen Tree

The wind blew down an ailing tree a few days ago.  When it fell, I had just walked past the spot, going out to and coming in from checking on the heat in my greenhouse.  I had just come into the house, and removed my coat when a shaking of the house and a loud noise just outside the room where I stood, let me know a tree had come down.  My husband, who was napping, never even heard or felt it, but awakened to my verbal response. "A tree just fell, I am sure a tree just fell!" I ran toward the door fully expecting to find the tree leaned against the house. Realizing I should be careful, I calmed myself a bit and tried to get my husband away from what could be further danger, if the tree came through the house, if it were hanging above it, hung up on electric wires or something.

Just waking, and always skeptical, he was saying his usual, "I doubt it, it's probably just a limb."  And although I hadn't seen it myself, I was confident when I retorted, annoyed and still shaken, "Get up and see for yourself if you don't believe me, but there IS a tree down in our yard!

The instant I stepped onto the deck, I was really awakened to the presence of Angels.  That doesn't happen often in life.  Even though they are always there, you don't notice them except in crisis.  I felt as if  I was sort of in a bubble of safety, kind of other worldly....oh I don't know how to explain awareness of  Angels....when they are active on your behalf, you know, you just know.  And the feeling expanded to an overwhelming awareness of how close I just came to being underneath that tree, except for their intervention.  I felt as if God still had his hand outstretched and the angels were still adjusting their halos. LOL

What I saw when I got outside was beyond belief.  The tree was lying with its tip about 2 inches from the downspout at the corner of the house.  The tip of a dead limb was broken on the deck, but not a scratch was on the deck rail, the side of the house, the roof line, the gutter...nothing. The only thing that had been touched was the cable line, which was pulled from the house where it was attached near the roof; however the box itself wasn't affected at all. I looked back through the door to see if the TV was on, and it hadn't been affected at all.  I looked quizzically at the power lines under the cable line, and wondered how in the world, the tree had missed them entirely.  Or if it hit them, how they were totally unscathed.  I expected there to still be vibration running out their length from being hit, and they were totally still.

 The more we inspected where the tree had fallen, we realized what a tiny space it would have had to fallen into, in order for it not to have hit something, not even considering that it could have killed one of us. That spot is where my husband stands to put wood in the wheelbarrow for our fireplace.  There are support posts for the deck, and the water-hose and wood stacks to prevent you from standing anywhere else. A severe cold was setting in, and we were preparing for the windy cold weather. Any other time Jimmy would have been there in the evening bringing in wood.  But because of the expected storm, I had asked him could we prepare early in case the power went out.  I never once thought of that tree taking our power out at the house. It was just that, let's be prepared mind set you know you should go into just in case.  But here we were, facing what could have been a tough situation, yet still with power, with a major winter storm approaching.  I was immediately thankful and in awe.

God had just set that tree down before an ice storm, in precisely the one tiny place in our yard that it wouldn't destroy something else, protecting us in so many ways.  Had it hit the house and come through the corner, Jimmy might have been injured where he slept.  Had I been only moments longer in my greenhouse, I would have been walking there as it fell.  In so many ways, I was glad that tree was down safely.  No children to be injured in my back yard....I could just go on. The realizations rushed in and I became overwhelmed.  I began to cry, as I thought how I had just faced the moment when I could have died, but God chose that I should live. 

For about an hour I felt angina, as if I might have a heart attack, as my anxiety rose. It was as if the moment of shock, when the tree fell, had caused a blockage to occur.  (My husband has had several heart attacks, so I know the lingo.)  But as I thought of how God had just spared my life, it seemed ridiculous that he was going to take it with a heart attack.  So I forced myself to be calm and took a blood thinner (asperin+), and did everything I could to be calm.  I promised myself.."this is not a heart attack."

In the days that have followed, I have become weary in the record setting cold, snow and ice, of climbing over that tree to get to my green house, or of walking around the house in the wee hours of the night.  In the cold, I must check it more often, and at any hour that it is the coldest.  If the low tech heat sources fail, everything will freeze.  And for a while this afternoon, when I had no sleep last night, and all I could do was fall asleep today, I thought for a moment, why am I doing all this for a few plants?

But then I heard the still small voice say, "I didn't help you keep these plants safe for this long this winter, and direct that tree off the greenhouse, just for you to give up now.  We are in this together."
It wasn't just myself and my husband God spared, but the greenhouse and its contents.  In fact, He's pulled it through record breaking temps as well.  A propane tank I use for emergencies, which I burn  for about 4 to 5 hours on the coldest nights, burned for 11+ hours last night - while the temps went to 6 degrees outside.  And it didn't smoke, although the flame was so small at daybreak you couldn't even see it.  It burned so cleanly, that it was invisible, but the heat was there as proof of it's burn.  When I think of all that has happened this week on our behalf, I am so humbled.  Once again, God and his angels were there, making those little miracles that whisper, I am here, my child, see me.

Thank you Jesus.  Thank you.  I am in awe. AMEN

Bottling Our Tears

You number my wanderings; Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book? Psalm 56:8

This is a journal. I don't always enter the things God is using in my life to bring me through each day in his presence. But some things, I love to record and read again and again.  This is one of them.

There is a lot of sorrow among friends and family. With sorrow comes tears. I am a fan of tears, and of  crying in general. I believe that it helps to cleanse our emotions, and relieve the pressure to keep us from bottling it up, to making it explode later.  I see emotions like anything that we keep inside a bottle until it ferments, and eventually will explode if not properly contained.  Some things contained get better with age, some become vile, and emotions become vile.  So we release them with tears, and according to scripture, God bottles them instead. Interesting concept, Release emotions, bottle tears.  Will have to think on that some. 

But, my usual study practice is to take a word and make note of all the scriptures that are relative to the meaning of the word that suits my questioning heart. What generally occurs, is there is a progression from the earliest scriptures that develops a mindset of understanding.  A principle develops, and the mind of God, looking at the subject from several angles, gives a picture of God's thoughts on the subject.  This study on tears was exactly that.

Watch the progression. See if you put together the puzzle:

•  My eyes pour out tears to God. Job 16:20b

• Thus says the Lord, the God of David your father: “I have heard your prayer, I have seen your tears; surely I will heal you. On the third day you shall go up to the house of the Lord. II Kings 20:5b

• He will swallow up death forever, And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces; Isaiah 25:8 b

• Thus says the Lord: “Refrain your voice from weeping, And your eyes from tears; For your work shall be rewarded, says the Lord, And they shall come back from the land of the enemy. Jeremiah 31:16

• Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” Mark 9:24

Notice the phrases:

• "put my tears into your bottle," "in your book"
• "pour out Tears to God"
• "on the third day"
• "God will wipe away tears"
• "come back from the land of the enemy"
• "help my unbelief"
• "for your work shall be rewarded"

What do we learn? ~

1. A willingness to release the pain to God's keeping, which does not go unnoticed. God records it, values our tears, notes our pain, begins the story of our recovery and follows it through with us.
2. We must then act upon our willingness ~ cry, pray, pour out our heart to him. Let it be known to God. But release it.
3. Next is a reference to the future day of Christ on the cross, when the fullness of our healing is complete. The inference for us is to lay the burden at the cross, in full recognition of the resurrection.  See the hand of God in our circumstances as if he has now bottled our tears, recorded our need, and has completed what is necessary to make a solution possible. See it as if it were already finished, and place faith in that.
4. Look to the day that God will wipe away out tears.  Don't expect that it happens immediately, but it could help to refocus on Jesus and not on our pain.
5. Turn our back on Satan. Satan uses our pain as a weak point, where he aims his attacks. We sometimes wander into his territory by allowing him during our weak points to bombard us with his negative, discouraging thoughts. I know I am vulnerable to this. Part of what makes the saying, "when we are weak, He is strong;" true of God, is that during our weakness, He is hard at work trying to divert our attention from Satan's lies. We need to find the stillness, quietness with him to hear it. With awareness, we can walk out of the land of Satan. He will make the path clear.
6. Inevitably, we will need help in some area.  Our faith often falters, from fear, confusion, and continued attacks by Satan. It never hurt to recognize our struggle to believe is also an area where prayer can be a battle cry. 
7. No one said it would be easy, but God promises success if we follow him. "Your work shall be rewarded.

Lastly, I wanted to say that I noticed while I was reading the scriptures of the Old Testament, that the practice of the ancients was to cry a lot.  They seemed to believe that the more they cried, the more God listened.  In the new Testament, Jesus noted that the Pharisees of his day, made long prayers. Knowing the ancient customs, they may have cried false tears as well. (me imagining.)  It became a religious thing to cry out in public, to make them selves look like they were honoring the scripture in a way that was more pleasing to God than the tears of the humble who cried in their homes. Many old religions include people, especially women in the streets, crying loudly so their gods will hear.  I believe that Jesus was warning against this when he said not to behave like Pharisees and Sadducees.

Tears don't have to be private, but they don't benefit us much if we think the more we beg of God the help we desire, while crying and continuing long in prayer, the more he hears us. We miss the point. God wants us to move forward, through healing.  Like stages of newness. The ancients and the religious didn't see the whole picture.  Going before the Lord in tears, doesn't get his attention. It is merely step 1 in humbling ourselves before him, and honoring his process, accepting it, and asking him to come along side as we walk through the process.

That's the God I serve. The one who doesn't leave me drowning in my tears, but respects my feelings, and the fact that I hurt badly enough to be crying.  So much so that he begins a record of my healing, and he starts it by bottling my tears.  Impactful in the least, to me.  In fact, I would say that the process also ends in tears for me. Because I cry tears of joy as well.  I suppose he bottles those and marks the day of my rejoicing, so the record is complete.  Because God is the God of finished works and new beginnings.  (numbers 7 and 8.)

I couldn't help but notice that there are 6 items in the list that are about my human part - 6 is the number of man.  And the 7th item is what God does in the end - 7 is the number of completion, to be finished. 

Thank you, Lord for your perfect plan.  Thank you for something like Bible Gateway that allows a quick research for opening the word in its fullness.  And for lessons so easily learned.  But also for the Holy Spirit which explains the truths to us.  It is an evidence to me that you have always existed to provide for us, your creation, even to the extent of bottling our tears.

In Jesus name, AMEN

A Commitment to Inner Beauty

Civil War Era Church in North Georgia
~ The Cove Methodist ~

Then he set the cherubim inside the inner room; and they stretched out the wings of the cherubim so that the wing of the one touched one wall, and the wing of the other cherub touched the other wall. And their wings touched each other in the middle of the room....

Then he carved all the walls of the temple all around, both the inner and outer sanctuaries, with carved figures of cherubim, palm trees, and open flowers.

I Kings 6: 27, 29

 

 

I love beautiful churches, but the ones that really capture my heart, are the lovely old buildings that have tiny bits of architecture that show someone loved the building when it was built.  When they are white, they speak of purity, the whiter than snow element of salvation.  A bright sunny day makes taking pictures of them difficult sometimes, but if the setting is just right, a mighty tree helps the balance, cuts the white, the camera will capture its beauty.

 

But our white churches, though full of the Christian symbolism, seldom resemble the Israelite Chapel ~ the inner and outer sanctuaries of the Tent Church of the Old Testament.  Above, in I Kings, 2 verses tell us something about the inner room of the inner sanctuary.  This is where the Ark of the Covenant stood.  In drawings of this that I have seen the wings of the cherubim stand straight up. But this first verse clearly indicates they were stretched out to touch the wall. And touched each other at the center. These amazing gold covered carvings were a massive tribute to the extent God will go to protect the covenants he makes with us. 

The inner room of the inner sanctuary symbolize our spirit and soul within our heart, and the Covenant hidden within the ark, the covenant of Salvation, and the presence of the Holy Spirit indwelling us. It was a concept the Old Testament Saints could not perceive. But to us it should be clear. Sometimes I think our modern churches should have something of that symbolism included, but we must remain distant from an appearance of remaining held under the "Law." We are freed from it by Grace, of course, and the rituals of the priest entering the sanctuaries yearly are markedly, attached to understanding how dealt with the People under the Law.

 

But I want to look more at the artistic nuances of the old inner sanctuary. I relate so much to the artistic heart of the person who carved those spreading wings that must center the ark on the room, and have each wing tip touch the walls precisely. Then the artisan skills to cover them with gold. Imagining the beauty of this thing unfold as he worked, fills my spirit with awe. And then he carved cherubim, palm trees and flowers all around the walls. What a commitment! I am sure each item had a spiritual significance to them. Open flowers reflect the fullness of the of the process, the near completion of their closeness to God. the beauty of their worship, the fragrance of their finished work and God's.

 

As I was taking the picture of the Cove Methodist Church, my husband asked if there were an angle which would allow me to photograph the inside through those massive windows.  As I read this passage, I thought of how this scripture was like a window into the inner sanctums of the heart of this "church", where none other than the Priests would be able to enter eventually.  Once it was finished, the place became Holy for all time. I wonder how many people enter a church these days, and think this place reflects my heart, the dwelling place of the Spirit, the place where I meet God on his terms. And do it with a commitment to beauty.  To make the experience a labor of love, of design, of intent, of expecting a future ending in magnificent balance, centering, light, magnificence.  I used to as a child, and as I grew, I set it aside, thinking I was a bit melodramatic. But God wasn't melodramatic at all. Beauty was a part of his expectation when dealing with mankind.  He wants us to have a beautiful place in which to worship him. To me they go hand in hand.

 

But I am made aware that I might work on my own commitment to inner beauty, that the place where I meet God in my inner most being could be a place that is a pleasure to go, is an awe inspiring time each time I go. A golden experience.

 

Lord, help me make commitments to beauty, and know that I may have expectations to succeed, in your name. AMEN

 

Migration is a Part of God's greater plan

Nothern Shoveler at the Wildlife Center where we also saw Whooping Cranes

Each year, Jimmy and I look forward to the ducks, loons, grebes, and other waterfowl, passing through our area on migration. The ability of these beauties on wings to find their way, in spite of weather, storms, changing environment, loss of food sources, and so many other obstacles suggests to me the intervention, or plan, of a greater being.  But sometimes they need help, because humans can really do damage to the  patterns developed through centuries of travel coming and going to wintering grounds or nesting grounds.

We are following the progress of the re-introduction of Whooping Cranes into the Eastern flyway, a migration route from which they were almost entirely extrapolated last century. Humans killed this magnificent bird off at such a rate as to almost destroy the species entirely, so it's only right that we be involved in bringing their numbers back to a state of self-sustaining numbers.  Part of that success depended upon the success of a population of Greater Sandhill Cranes, along this flyway.  In the last 20 years just a little help along the way has increased the numbers of Sandhills to a population large enough that the first response of people is to allow them to be hunted once again. ??? Really.

But the result has been that the most obvious, (it would seem to us,) result is the killing of Whooping Cranes as well.  We are told it is not by hunters, but uncaring individuals.  What do these people get to just go out and shoot whatever they please?  Well, rather than complain, I have decided to increase my prayer regimen for the process of bringing Whooping Cranes back to a viable population.  My mother would say I cared more about those birds than about people.  But she is wrong.

What this will mean is that I will need to pray for the people involved. Those who lead the Whoopers in Hang-gliders, and their teams from Canada to Florida and back. And those who don't presently care about the birds. To pray for those who actually kill the lovely, majestic Whoopers. Yes even them.

7 of the introduced Whoopers protected by Woodland from the interaction with humans that might lead to their demise.
3 are standing so closely together that only their heads signify there are 3 there. An immature bird was outside this picture to the extreme left, and another adult to the extreme right is also not pictured.  There are 5 of the 7 in the picture. Their leg-bands were clearly visible.
 

Why bother? Early in the Old Testament God gave directions to Adam to have dominion over the animals and environment of the earth because He knew we would be responsible for the survival of large parts of it.  He even told Adam to go out and find and NAME the species of the earth, thus making him the first Naturalist of history. It was a directive God gave long before he gave man wisdom on keeping gardens for food etc.  It had to mean something to God that we care. 

A couple of days ago, I actually got to see 7 of the released Whoopers, some of which were led by ultra light airplanes by the Operation Migration teams. At least one is a bird released to find his way in the company of other Cranes, to learn the ancient survival tool of migration for itself.  To add variety to the Gene pools should it find a mate in the next few years.  So much depends on man protecting these innocents.  As large as these birds are, they are highly vulnerable to preditors, and it seems unimaginable that man becomes the one preditor from whom no one can protect them. It saddens and maddens me. But it is much better to focus those emotions into something productive. And that is prayer.  So this prayer project is definitely worthy of a place on this, my prayer blog.

Lord, Bless the efforts of those whose passion it is to bring these birds back into the wild, whose life's work it has been to aid their reintroduction into the habitat in which you set them. Forgive us Lord for destroying their numbers and taking them to the brink of extinction. Please turn the hearts of men who would harm them to understand the responsibility we have to them.  And I pray for the birds. I asks you mighty hand upon them that where we are weak to protect them, you will show prove your mightiness to be strong on their behalf. For all which have recently died, make the news of their passing become a cry to education that people will hear, that any who lack knowledge may hear and be convinced that this creature deserves the protection we beg for. I pray for all who have killed these birds, knowingly or otherwise, that they might have a change of heart, to compassion, and sorrow. In Jesus' name, AMEN

A God of Diversity Designed

Our Lives with Uniqueness ~ For the Good and Harmony of us ALL!

Art like music is a layered reflection on life. I am so glad the designer of our lives loves the bounty of diversity.

A Great Symphony plays a detailed, many faceted peice of music with energy and perfection. The music has layers of different patterns and notes from many different instruments - some with monotones and some with melody.  Every bar has been practiced to perfection by every member of the group. During practice, many a sour note was played. They stumbled some with rythm, and unison. They faltered for months as they learned the peice a bit at a time. The group has come together for the same purpose, but they will segment themselves to do their job within the parameters of what is specifically designed for their instruments.  Each musician will play only his or her notes. A great anticipation envelops the group when they arrive at the desinated day to play the peice. There is an air of assurance that it will go flawlessly, and will delight every one who hears.

If every thing in life ran like a symphony playing music, life would be --- as it should be!
The people who go, go, go and can't sit still are the drummers in life.
The clowns are the cymbals, and tambourines, the knockers and honkers.
The optimistic, never get down people are the tinkling bells.
The sometimes up and sometimes down   people are the violins of life.
The steady firm hand are the base players.

If I can relate to an instument and the music it plays with my personality, I can see myself as a part of a grander scheme.  A great peice of music to be played. I fit in the world. I can be unlike anyone else and still be a part of something beautiful.

The Scripture "All things work together for Good" is best understood when we allow that not every note is ours to be played. If we try and try to be a drummer and we were meant to play a flute...we will never be happy in life. We won't be a part of things working together for good. If God made you to play a flute, play a flute.  Don't let a drummer take away your joy. We were designed to work together, with very oposing tunes, sometimes.  The drummer and flute may sound discordant playing only their two tunes, but they might be amazing together with all who are playing their parts. Practice being you. Not some other part. Be critical of your own attempts, but only to the extent that you wish to play your own designated notes.  Why despair if you can't play the notes of the person two chairs away if they aren't your notes?  If their notes rise and your notes fall, it only matters if they are harmonious.

God is truly able to take even our sour notes and turn them into good, but his plan is that we look to him to find and play only our own notes. I could go into a whole scenario of how it is sometimes beneficial to be able to play more than one instrument, and learn more than one score, or be capable on more than one stage, or venue, or be able to play well the whole of someone else's peice,  IF it will benefit someone who is struggling, or needs help along the way. But when we use knowing how to do it, to walk on the one for whom the music was written...we are not in God's perfect will. 

I totally love this image of life as a picture of life from God's point of view. The Father and son - so like the writers of the music and the words. The Holy Spirit like the conductor to our soul. They know the peice from begining to end, and so desire to have us learn to play it. They would guide us carefully through it as we learn bar by bar the melody and chords, verse and chorus, each and every part.

We have full permission to play only our desinated part, to know the perameters for when not to play, and expect other individuals to be responsible for their parts, not ours and to let God decide when the peice is ready to be played.  If it seems we are doing the same thing over and over...well, God is helping us get it right, is making it part of our soul, is making it easier and fluid and like breathing in and breathing out.  He is allowing us time to add our soul to the music.

Music that is lovely to hear is ususally played by someone who is playing or singing more than just the notes. On my keyboard, there is a button that allows it to sense the pressure you play each note with. It literally plays the pressures that I add as my body responds to how I feel the music. The result sounds so much better than when just the notes are played. And I enjoy playing it much better as well. The music flows.

So glad the Lord reminded me of this concept: enjoying the blessings of being encouraged by it's truths. I have a part on life's stage that was written specifically, just for me.

LIFE IS A SYMPHONY  Words and music by Beatrice Bush Bixler

"Life is a symphony, since the man of Galilee,
 changed my discord into song, Makes life sweet the whole day long.
Life is a symphony, praise the Lord of Calvary,
No more a stranger, He is the arranger of my Symphony!