A MOTHER'S LOVE

A Mother's love is something

that no one can explain,

It is made of deep devotion

and of sacrifice and pain,

It is endless and unselfish

and enduring come what may

For nothing can destroy it

or take that love away . . .

It is patient and forgiving

when all others are forsaking,

And it never fails or falters

even though the heart is breaking . . .

It believes beyond believing

when the world around condemns,

And it glows with all the beauty

of the rarest, brightest gems . . .

It is far beyond defining,

it defies all explanation,

And it still remains a secret

like the mysteries of creation . . .
A many splendoured miracle

man cannot understand

And another wondrous evidence

of God's tender guiding hand.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

~Author Unknown

 

Does God Want Us To Be Happy?

Published in the Charleston Gazette on Sunday, April 15, 2012~

Sometimes the good in my life seems hard to grasp. Dark clouds cover the sun for too many days and I feel I’ve lost my way for a while. But when I remember that I am a child of God and that He is always with me, things begin to change. As I stand firm in faith, light penetrates the darkness and I am lifted up! I see, hear, touch and taste the blessings of my life: I see young children playing happily, and hear the gurgle of a newborn baby; I touch the hand of a loved one, taste a mouth-watering meal and am reminded that my life is filled with joy every day.

When circumstances dishearten us and fear forces joy and courage from our hearts, we have only to reach out to God. He is always there to give us the help we need – if we ask.

According to the Bible, if we seek God and His plan for our lives, we will find happiness. In other words, happiness does not come from seeking it, but by seeking Him. The implication is if we search for God, happiness will follow. God created us to rely on Him and find our fulfillment, our contentment and our delight in a relationship with him.

C.S. Lewis put it this way: “God made us: invented us as a man invents an engine. A car is made to run on petrol, and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there.” Mere Christianity~

God wants us to be happy, but that does not mean He desires health, wealth, and good fortune for our life. Nor does it mean that He wants us to have a problem free life. The world associates good circumstances with happiness. God, in contrast, wants us to find happiness in every circumstance of life. But God’s Word does not promise us happy circumstances. True happiness lies in being content in God’s plan for our life.

If you are not a child of God, living your life according to His will, whatever happiness you realize is “of the world,” and is temporary. You may have power, money and fame, but none of it will matter unless you have a relationship with God. Your significant other, just like you, will gradually grow older losing his/her physical beauty and faculties. Eventually, one of you will depart this world, leaving the other to carry on alone. Your children will grow up and leave you to make lives of their own. Nothing stays the same.

The only thing that never changes is your relationship with God. This is where true happiness and contentment begin.

“Happy are the people whose God is the Lord!” (Psalm 144:15 NKJV).

Angel of Mercy?

  Published in the Sunday Gazette-Mail, February 19, 2012 

"People come into our life for a reason, a season or a lifetime." Most of us are familiar with this little pearl of wisdom that circles the Internet periodically. In fact, I just received it again today but, this time, it touched a nerve – unearthed a memory of a peculiar incident from several years ago.

I was admitted to the hospital because my blood pressure had reached unusually high levels. Medication wasn’t helping so my doctor thought it necessary to run tests in the hope of finding a reason – and a remedy.

It was late evening when I checked in. I told my husband he didn’t have to stay since they wouldn’t do much until morning. So, with a kiss to my forehead and a promise of seeing me tomorrow, he left. After I was comfortably tucked into a bed, a nurse came in with her clipboard and began asking the usual questions – the ones we’ve all answered when we’ve been admitted to a hospital. I’ve never understood why – in this computer age – they can’t just put your name in and pull up the information you gave the last time you were there and save everyone a lot of time. But they do it their way, so I smiled and replied to the same questions I'd answered many times before.

This nurse was pleasant, making the process as quick and painless as possible. In no time, it was over and we were having an enjoyable conversation. She told me she was a traveling nurse, which meant she was not employed by the hospital, but that she moved around from one to another, perhaps spending two weeks in each before moving on to the next. “Interesting,” I said. Then she said this was her last night at this hospital. She’d be leaving at seven a.m. I was disappointed, as we had hit it off immediately! She impressed me as one of the kindest, most understanding people I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I wished she could be there for as long as I was.

After she left the room, I got acquainted with my roommate, vitals were taken, pills distributed, and I fell asleep early.

Later, I awakened needing to visit the restroom. Although I had been told not to get up without help, it was only a few steps from my bed to the restroom and I felt sure I could make it. When I did, I closed the door and locked it. And that’s the last thing I remember until I awakened briefly in a bed that had been raised so high it seemed I could reach up and touch the ceiling. There was a nurse on each side of the bed, everything was blurry and my eyes wouldn’t stay open but kept closing involuntarily.

Someone kept slapping my cheeks, calling my name and washing my face with a cold, wet cloth. When my eyelids fluttered again, I saw the nurse I’d met earlier. She was beautiful: she had such a sweet, caring face and a voice to match. “Stay awake, Peggy!” she said. “Don’t go to sleep. No! Open those green eyes.” I could hear a man’s voice in the background saying, “Get that blood pressure up fast or she’s going to ICU!” I assumed it was a doctor. I didn’t see anyone except the nurse.

At some point, I was stabilized and tucked in for the night. When everyone was gone, I lay there in the dark wondering what had happened. The last thing I remembered was going into the restroom and locking the door. How did they get the door unlocked? I wondered. As if she’d read my mind, the lady in the other bed said, “You’re lucky to be alive!”

Surprised, I said, “What happened?”

“Just after you went into the bathroom, that blonde nurse came in and was shocked to see that you weren’t in your bed. She looked at me and I pointed to the bathroom. She tried the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t open. “Locked!” she said. Then she ran into the hall and yelled for someone. In a minute, a man and two more nurses ran in and somehow they managed to get the door open. When it opened, you fell right into her arms. Two of them carried you to the bed. It took them a long time to bring you around. Your color was gray. I thought you were dead!”

“Thank you!” I said, not wanting to talk anymore.

My last thoughts before drifting off were: Some people believe God sends angels to protect us when we’re in trouble. The scriptures say He sent an angel to shut the mouths of the lions and Daniel was unhurt; The Lord also sent an angel to break the chains and rescue Peter from prison. And Psalms 34:7 says – The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him and He delivers them.

Is it possible this nurse was on a mission?

I was awakened by a warm hand touching my face. A soft voice whispered, “Peggy, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I won’t see you again. I wanted to tell you I’m glad we met and I hope things turn out well for you.”

The room was dark, but I knew who it was. Without opening my eyes, I squeezed her hand, and, in my sleepy, weakened state I managed to say, “Thank you for saving my life.”

I'll always wonder... was this just a case of being in the right place at the right time—or was this angel of mercy sent by God?

Change is Inevitable

~Published in the Charleston Gazette, Sunday, January 15, 2012~

According to statistics, more people die in January than any other month. The odds a death that happens in a given year will occur in January are 1 in 10.89 higher than any other month. Moreover, it is also reported that more suicides take place in January.  We wonder why.

Some believe that the elderly, in particular, are able to postpone death until they have enjoyed some experience they have been anticipating, like Christmas or their birthday. After the exciting time has passed, depression often takes over; the person feels helpless, thinks he has no reason to live and gives up.

Suicide is altogether different. Though most of us may get depressed from time to time, we know that suicide is directly counter to the power of life that God has put so strongly into His creation. Everywhere we look we see life growing, even in the most hostile environments. This "survival instinct" is a gift from God. In fact, if He didn't bestow this gift upon His children, there probably would be no life on this planet at all!  Suicide, then, is directly contrary to the will of God. 

Many of the greatest saints and heroes of the Bible faced overwhelming depression and sometimes wrote that they wished they’d never been born. King David, (Psalm 13:2-4), the prophet Jeremiah, (Jeremiah 20:14-18), and Job, (Job 7:15-16) among others, all reached low points where they despaired of their very lives.

Job says, "So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life. I loathe it; I would not live always: let me alone; for my days are vanity" (Job 7:15-16).

Yet, each of these men was blessed of God, and persevered through their trials as an example to us. Though they faced great suffering and injustice, they kept their faith in God and His goodness and in so doing, were sustained and led into abundant life.

It’s hard for most of us to understand why one would feel depressed at the onset of a New Year. We see it as a new beginning, another chance to set things right that may not have gone so well in the former year - an opportunity to change our lives for the better.

There is a season for everything. When we see leaves changing color in autumn, then letting go of their branches and falling to the ground, we can be sure that they’ll be replaced by new growth in the springtime. Just as nature changes, we must learn to release the past and welcome the present in whatever form it takes.

Unfortunately, we may occasionally experience a season of doubt, sadness or physical challenge. But remember, it is only a season. There will be a healing season, as well. Healing comes when we meet with God in prayer. Although we may not see the evidence right away, just as spring rains bring relief from the harshness of winter, a healing is taking place.

Change is inevitable. Day turns into night, people come and go in our lives and somewhere between the hellos and good-byes, we learn to be grateful for the blessings God grants us. We discover that perseverance is the rope that ties the soul to the doorpost of Heaven—and we go on living our best lives.

Suicide is an unthinkable alternative!

The Loneliest Times

~Published in the Charleston Gazette, Sunday, November 20th, 2011~

One of our lifelong friends passed away recently, leaving a wife he was married to for more than sixty years. They had no children. Sadly, this wonderful lady is now all alone.

When this happens, friends and relatives are usually very attentive at first – sending cards; bringing food; stopping by to talk; checking to see if the survivor needs anything and phoning often. It seems that this might go on indefinitely. But, although these people mean well, they have jobs and families and obligations. Life soon beckons and they respond. Suddenly, the survivor finds herself alone—and lonely.

At some point in our lives, many of us have probably dealt with loneliness – one of life’s most painful experiences. This can be very discouraging, especially when there is no one to help us through this trying situation.

After my father died, my mother used to say that weekends were the loneliest times for her. I never understood that. It seemed to me that every day would have been about the same, as my father was retired. And even though I visited her on weekends, it wasn’t enough. She explained it like this: “That was our quality time together,” she said sweetly. “All week, I stayed busy with housework, laundry and cooking, while he worked in the yard, washed the car or piddled around the house. There’s always something to do when you own a house, you know.” I nodded.

“But come Saturday morning,” she said, “We lingered a long time over breakfast, enjoying lengthy conversations as we drank our coffee, and then we’d get cleaned up and go downtown and do a little shopping. Sometimes we just looked around, or he’d find something to do while I got my hair done. Finally, we’d go to a nice restaurant for dinner before going home. We looked forward to Saturdays. After church on Sunday, we’d have lunch and sit around for hours sipping coffee or iced tea while we read the Sunday papers. I miss all that,” she said wistfully.

My mother lived 25 years after my father died, never remarrying. And she never stopped referring to her lonely weekends.

Although it’s difficult for most of us to understand, sometimes God allows such situations because they are opportunities to bring us into a closer relationship with Him. When we’re all alone and others are unable or unwilling to help, God is the One who is always with us!

While the reality of God’s constant presence with us is a fact, unfortunately, we are not always aware of Him, especially in lonely periods. Have you sometimes wondered, if He’s with me, why can’t I sense His presence? Why do I feel so alone? At times like these, our courage weakens and it’s difficult to rely on the truth that He will never leave us or forsake us. (Heb. 13:5)

In his lifetime of walking with Christ, the apostle Paul learned that times of weakness were God’s invitation to depend on Him. When Paul was struggling with a “thorn in the flesh,” the Lord said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness.”

Christians have a responsibility to visit widows and others who are lonely. It must be made clear that God is always with them. Our greatest resource for letting them know that, of course, is the Bible. Throughout its pages, the Lord tells His people that He is with them. Before Christ ascended to the Father, He promised His followers, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:20)

Thus, the Holy Spirit abides within us—and we are never alone!

Is Laughter The Best Medicine

~Published in the Charleston Gazette, Sunday, October 16, 2011~

I was sitting on the sofa almost in tears over some perceived wrong done to me when I noticed my cat acting strangely. Taking a closer look, I saw that she was playing with a large rubber band that had been dropped on the floor. She’d pick it up with her teeth, throw it in the air and pounce on it just as it hit the floor, then, with first one paw and then the other; she’d bat it around a bit before starting all over again. Her antics were amusing and I laughed aloud, almost forgetting what had upset me. It’s odd that, no matter how troubled we are, we feel better – at least for a while – when we laugh.

Laughter is a wonderful sensation. There is strong evidence that it can actually improve health and help fight disease. There is also medical proof that laughter is a great workout for the lungs and heart and good for combating stress. Furthermore, laughter is contagious, so if you bring more laughter into your life, you are likely to help others around you laugh more, and realize health benefits as well.

I wondered – did Jesus laugh? If so, what made Him laugh? Research disclosed several accounts of Jesus laughing, but one story tells it best. With the permission of Rev. Sam Trumbore, I pass it on.

This story begins in one of the towns of Galilee, the area where Jesus did much of his ministry. In this town lived a boy named Ethan, about ten years old. Ethan looked much older than his age, for he had lived far beyond his years. You see, the boy was an orphan. His father had been killed by a drunken centurion and his mother had died in childbirth. He had no other family in the area and no one would take him in because his family was from Samaria and the townsfolk looked down on Samarians. Finding no help, he began living on the street.

Ethan slept at night in a manger in exchange for carrying water for the animals to drink first thing in the morning. Each day he visited the farmers in town to see if they had any work to be done in the fields. The workday began at sunup and finished just after sundown. He was paid just enough to buy a small loaf of bread, which kept him from starving. Because he could save no money or food from day to day, he worked every day - or didn’t eat at all. Fortunately, Ethan was blessed with a sharp mind. Without it, he surely would have perished.

The town was on a road to Jerusalem, and Rabbis occasionally stopped to spend the night. Often, the townsfolk gathered to hear the Rabbi talk. Ethan enjoyed hearing them debate points of law expounding great principles and ideas. He tried to figure out the answer to a question put to the Rabbi before the Rabbi spoke. Ethan loved the stories they told to inspire people's faith that God would not forget them and someday would lift them up and send the Romans packing. This gave Ethan hope that someday he, too, might have a home, his own cow, and a small plot of land to grow vegetables when the Romans were gone.

One evening, when Ethan was returning from tilling the barley crop, he noticed a new Rabbi was in town. The crowd which gathered around him was much larger than normal and some gentiles, or non-Jews, were part of the group. Ethan asked a woman on the outer edge of the crowd who the Rabbi was and she shushed him, "Shhhh, he is Jesus of Nazareth."

Ethan pressed into the crowd so he could see and hear. As fate would have it, he pushed up against a Roman soldier. The Centurion looked down at the Samaritan boy and gave him a fast hard kick shouting, "Get away, you little scum!"

The Rabbi Jesus stopped talking, and looked around. "What scum wishes to come and sit at my feet?" he said. "Open the way for the little scum!"

The crowd became silent as they looked to see who Jesus was talking about. This was Ethan's chance. Rubbing his sore rear end, he dove into the crowd, wiggling and jiggling until he was at Jesus' feet. Jesus smiled and asked the boy to sit next to him.

This stirred up the crowd because everyone knew he was a Samaritan and that the boy was unclean (in more ways than one). The most obvious way was the sores on his skin. The local religious know-it-alls who had been debating Rabbi Jesus brought this to his attention by saying, "Rabbi, you defile yourself by sitting with this unclean child. Send him away."

All eyes were now on Rabbi Jesus to see what he would say or do next. Again the Rabbi smiled and said, "We will see if this child is really clean or unclean by asking him three questions."

The crowd murmured in curiosity. What would the Rabbi ask that would show this defiled child to be clean? The evidence, the sores on his skin, was right in front of their eyes!

Jesus asked his first question, "Boy, who are your mother and father?"

Ethan, enjoying the center of attention, replied, "Rabbi, I have no father or mother; they are both dead. No one has taken me in; I am from Samaria. So now my mother is the earth, which gives my body rest as I sleep on her at night, and my father is the sky which guides me as I walk home from the fields at night."

Noises of surprise rippled through the crowd. They didn’t realize the boy they often kicked out of their way could speak such words.

Jesus, looking straight into Ethan's eyes, asked his second question, "Boy, by what do you gain your daily bread?"

Ethan straightened up proudly, "I earn my bread by working in the fields each day. When I have no work, I only eat by the generosity of those who offer me bread in the street. If I can buy no bread and none is given to me in the street, the bread I eat is the hope that someday I shall have my own land to grow grain to make my own bread. This bread of hope sustains me until my next meal."

Jesus, without a trace of emotion, asked his third question, "Boy, what sustains your spirit?"

Ethan thought for a moment and then answered, "Since I must labor from before the sun rises till late in the evening, I have no time or money to practice the rituals and ceremonies of any religion. My spirit is often weary. What restores me is seeing the birds fly high in the sky, watching the tiny barley seeds sprouting up out of the ground reaching for the sun, enjoying the pinks and oranges and purples of a sunset, feeling the friendliness of the animals with which I sleep, and hearing the Rabbis tell of the good days to come when God will triumph over evil. Even though I am a homeless orphan, I know there is beauty and kindness and generosity in this world. This sustains my spirit."

Everyone was silent. Then Jesus began to laugh. He laughed so hard his whole body shook. This wasn't the ordinary kind of laugh when someone slips on a banana peel, or when someone says something foolish. It was a kind of laughter that makes you feel all warm inside. It was the kind of laughter that, when you heard it, you couldn't help but laugh as well. Soon the whole crowd was falling over in laughter. When everyone quieted down, Jesus smiled at the boy and said, "Everyone here thought you were unclean, but the beauty of your words shows a heart of great purity; it is what comes out of our mouth that reveals us, not our outer appearance."

From that day forward, the boy found favor in that community. He was taken in by the man and wife who owned the stable in which he slept and eventually inherited their land, as the couple was childless. He never forgot the kindness of Rabbi Jesus and told this story many times, hoping it would be told many years to come. You may pass it on as well.

Strange as it may seem, after Ethan met Rabbi Jesus, his sores disappeared. If you asked me why, I'd have to shrug my shoulders and say I don't know. What I do know is that magical things happen when a child is given love, attention and respect.

It All Started In A One-Room Schoolhouse

On the way to meet family members for dinner this evening, my husband and I were talking about our childhoods as we’ve done many times before, but this time, he asked a question. He wanted to know why I graduated from high school younger than most people do. So I told him the whole story:

When I was only five years old, I lived in a small coal mining community with my parents. I had several friends to play with and we had a lot of fun in the summertime. My yard was the largest one in the neighborhood, so all the kids liked to play there. My daddy made a swing by tying rope to a sturdy limb of a large apple tree. My friends and I loved pushing each other on the swing. We played other games, too. At dusk, we’d play hide‘n seek or kick the can and catch lightening bugs until our mothers called us to come in and get our baths. The sounds of happy children at play echoed throughout the community every day from mid-morning until dark.

But one September morning, my summer fun came to a screeching halt!  School started.  Since I was younger than all my playmates, I was left with no one to play with until after three o’clock in the afternoon. That made for a long day.  I was bored and lonely. I whined a lot and my mother didn’t have enough imagination to keep me occupied. I missed my friends!

One cool fall morning, I sat on my back porch munching on a bunch of grapes and looking longingly toward the one-room schoolhouse that sat on a large tract of land just behind our house. I felt very drawn to it. Without saying a word to my mother, I got up, ran to the corner of my yard, climbed the fence and kept running until I was at the schoolhouse. Lucky for me, the old-fashioned building had long windows. If I stood on my tiptoes and stretched really tall, I could barely see inside the classroom. Holding onto the window ledge, I peered in, watched the teacher pacing back and forth while talking to the class, then watched as she turned and wrote on the blackboard. Finally, a girl named Alice saw me. When she pointed toward me and said something, the other kids looked, too, and the whole class laughed.  I turned around and ran all the way home.

But the next morning, I waited until my mother was busy, ran out to the corner, climbed the fence, ran to the school, stood on my tiptoes, stretched really tall and looked in the schoolhouse window again.  This time, the teacher, Miss Elkins, saw me. Watching her walk toward the window scared me, but I didn’t move. She said, “Hi Peggy. Would you like to come inside?” When I shook my head up and down, she said, “Go ask your mother if it’s okay. If she says it is, come back and I’ll let you in the front door.”

Running as fast as I could run until I reached the back porch, I opened the screen door and yelled, “Mother, can I go to school?” She said, “Now, we’ve already talked about this. You know you’re not old enough to go to school.” Breathless, I said, “But Miss Elkins asked me to come.” Mother looked at me disbelieving and said, “Why would she do that?”
 

“She saw me looking in the window; can I go, please?” I said.
 

Without another word, Mother took me to the wash basin, washed my hands and face, combed my hair, and led me to the bedroom where she put a clean dress on me, clean socks and my best shoes. Then she ran her hands through her hair, removed her apron and took me by the hand. We walked through the back gate and around the path over to the schoolhouse. She knocked on the door.

When Miss Elkins opened the door, Mother told her that she was there to see if she really had invited me to sit in on her class. Miss Elkins said, “Yes. She’s welcome. If she’s going to look in the windows anyway, it would be better if we let her sit here with the other children. Perhaps she’ll get tired or bored after a few days and not want to come anymore.”

But I didn’t get tired or bored. I loved going to school! I was up early every morning, ready and out the door just as if I were as old as the other kids. There was just one little hitch. I had been very slow giving up my baby bottle. Since I was the only child my mother could ever have, she had been indulgent by letting me have it “only” when I was very tired... with chocolate milk in it.  So every day, at recess, I’d run as fast as I could to the corner of my back yard where my mother would be waiting with my bottle of chocolate milk. I’d turn that thing up, guzzle the sweet liquid until the bottle was dry, hand it to Mother and run straight back to school. If other kids laughed - and they probably did - I didn’t care. It was “my security” and nobody could take it away from me until I was ready!

I finished that year of school and was promoted to the second grade right along with my seven-year old friends.  I had barely turned six.