“Between every

two pines

is a doorway to

a new world.”

–John Muir–

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Frenzy in the Forest

by Debbie Allen

As a young girl, I remember spending nearly every weekend up at our family’s rustic, cabin during the summer months. My brothers and I loved it! Life was so different up there. For many years it was our home away from home on the weekends. Up at the cabin, my parents were far more relaxed. Even the dirt that seemed to follow us everywhere we went, didn’t seem to bother them.  It was almost as if my mom and dad expected us kids to get dirty. So, we did! We relished the idea of spitting watermelon seeds on the ground, wading in the muddy creek with our shoes still on, and playing for hours, taunting the campfire flames with our sticks; all without consequences.   Though many decades have passed since that time, my heart remains a treasure trove of precious memories linked to both my childhood and those carefree, cabin days. In many ways, those cabin memories and the experiences connected to them, have helped to lay the groundwork for how I chose to live my life out all these years! Let me show you what I mean.

It was early morning at the cabin, over 60 years ago.  While mom and dad were cleaning up after breakfast, I watched my brothers, Danny and Doug, removing a log panel on the frontside of the cabin. It was what we called, the secret door. It covered a hidden storage space.  A few hundred cobwebs later, they retrieved the old wooden ‘Red Flyer’ wagon from within that deep, darkness. Towing the wagon behind us, all three of us raced up the hill to our favorite spot, planning to ride it back down the mountainside! That wagon was the closest thing to flying we ever experienced as kids…even when the ride came to a crashing halt at the bottom of the mountain. Though the flight always came with turbulence, it proved exhilarating too, in spite of all our crash site injuries.

Most of the time, we’d spend half-days flying down that mountainside, but not on this particular day.  My dad’s cousins from Arizona, Weldon and Juanita, and their little girl, Elizabeth; were visiting for the day.  That meant all the men and boys were going to be hiking the wagon trail and exploring the remnants of a miner’s camp, on one side of the cabin property, while 5-year-old Lizzy and I spent our time wandering in and out of the forest trees on the other side of the cabin. My mom and Juanita just planned to sip campfire coffee all day long at the picnic table, while catching-up with each other. It sounded like the perfect plan for all of us…until it wasn’t.

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“IN THE WOODS WE RETURN TO REASON AND FAITH.”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson–

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You see…Lizzy and I, and her baby doll, really did wander in and out of the forest trees for the rest of that morning. We were so busy laughing and talking, playing and gathering pinecones to make her dolly a forest bed to sleep in; I didn’t notice the cabin was no longer in my sights. Realizing nothing in our surroundings looked familiar to me anymore, my heart raced to the tune of my dad’s warnings to my brothers and I, whenever we played out in the forest.

“If you can’t see the cabin, then you know you’ve gone too far.”  

Up until now, I’d always abided by that rule.

“We’d better be heading back to the cabin, now.” I suggested to Lizzie, not wanting to scare her.  One of us shaking in our boots was enough.

Slipping her hand in mine, I picked a direction I thought was right and we started walking. But the trees grew thicker and thicker, and the pathway steeper. Every step I took led me to believe I was still going in the wrong direction.

Stopping to rest, I felt Lizzie’s eyes on me.

“It’s going to be ok, Lizzie.” I said with a forced smile.

My expression must’ve contradicted my words to her, because the next thing I watched Lizzie do was to pat her dolly’s back as if consoling her. 

“Shh-h-h, its ok, baby.” she whispered, “We’re just a little lost.”

I swallowed hard at Lizzie’s words. Hearing her say the word ‘lost’ out loud somehow made the reality of our situation too painfully real. What if we never get back? I thought to myself.

“You’re right, Lizzie…we are lost.” I admitted.  “And I’m not sure which way to go.”

I expected to see crocodile tears welling up in her blue eyes by now.  Even I was trying hard to blink tears back.  But the next thing I knew, Lizzie was wrapping one of my hands around hers, and the other around her dolly’s hand. She followed suit.  Soon, we’d formed what I now know to be a prayer circle, right there in the midst of all our forest frenzy. Our heads bowed; I opened my mouth to pray but Lizzie had already said it all for both of us. 

“Dear God…we’re just a little lost, so please send us a little help?  Amen.”

The forest was so hushed in that moment you could’ve heard a butterfly land on a wildflower.  But not for long. After Lizzie’s ‘amen’, that changed.  Something belted out a squawk so obnoxious, it startled us both to our feet. I felt Lizzie trembling, so I covered her ears and pulled her closer.  I just wanted whatever it was to go away…but it continued squawking even louder. And to that horrendous melody, the ‘squawker’ added chattering and screaming! Finally, still holding onto Lizzie, I spun completely around to find a giant, Blue Jay glowering down at me from one of the highest treetops on the mountainside!   Though I was deathly, afraid of birds, I somehow found it in me to glare right back at him. It seemed as long as I did so, he remained quiet.  In the silence of that ‘little-girl vs winged-beast’ stare down; I was able to capture the distant rumbles of a motorcycle growing closer. By the time its rumbles turned into roars, I knew the motorcycle passed us by, somewhere way up above our heads. While watching the Blue Jay fly off in the direction of the fading motorcycle sounds, something occurred to me. The road my dad drove me up here on must be up above us! All we had to do was climb up the mountainside to get to the road… and then follow the road back to where the cabin driveway intersected with it!

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“HE WILL SHOW THEM THE PATH THEY SHOULD CHOOSE.”

Psalm 25: 12b NLT

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With tremendous effort, Lizzie and I and her dolly did hike up the mountainside to the road that day.  I carried Lizzie a good portion of the way, so by the time we reached the cabin driveway it was a welcome sight. Though our young brows were drenched, our stomachs growling, and our lips parched, our hearts were filled with joy. Lizzie wriggled down out of my arms, and her feet hit the ground running at the sight of the cabin.  I wasn’t too far behind her! If the big-word, hallelujah, would’ve been a part of my little-girl vocabulary back then; the sounds of me shouting it throughout the forest would’ve far surpassed even the Blue Jay’s squawking that day! In much the same way Lizzie prayed for us earlier in the middle of our forest frenzy; this little girl with wisdom far beyond her years, again spoke enough for both of us. For the entire length of the driveway, Lizzie bolted towards our mothers’ open arms, shouting at the top of her lungs, “I been found… I been found!”

 My pounding heart could do nothing in that moment but fully agree with her; for I too… had been found.  By a squawking Blue Jay, planted on a branch and meant to draw my eyes upward…a roaring motorcycle, whose timely arrival pointed out to me the road home…and my God, Whose Hand of Love and Faithfulness I’ve been able to trace throughout many similar experiences, my whole life long.

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“HOW SATISFYING TO TURN FROM OUR OWN LIMITATIONS…TO THE GOD WHO HAS NONE.”

–A.W. Tozer–

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Dearest Father, Lord, and Savior…how deeply intimate and far reaching is Your Love. Yours is an endless Love that is beyond measurement.  It transcends our human understanding…and yet, it’s simple enough for a little child to grasp.  The little girl inside of me still cries out to you, “Show me the right path, O LORD; point out the road for me to follow…” for you are still Faithful to do so in every one of my life’s circumstances. “You are the hope of everyone on earth…” “You formed the mountains by Your Power…” “We stand in awe of Your Wonders.”  “From where the sun rises to where the sun sets, You inspire shouts of joy!” (Psalm 25:5b,6a,8b).  Lord, continue to show us the paths You choose for us and supply the strength and wisdom we need to walk on them in a manner that brings Your Name Glory!

IN JESUS NAME…AMEN

“Love recognizes no barriers.

It jumps hurdles, leaps fences,

penetrates walls to arrive at its

destination full of Hope.”

–Maya Angelou–

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Relentless Pursuit

by Debbie Allen

Spring has long been thought of as a season of new beginnings. Birds are singing again, bees are buzzing, and sleepy-eyed bears stumble from caverns of darkness into warm sunshine after long winter naps. The once cold, and lifeless soils of a season gone by now teem with the tiny, green shoots of newborn daffodils, crocus, and tulips.  Trees mysteriously, unveil both buds and fragrant blossoms, bursting forth on barren branches as a reminder to our winter-dulled senses of the coming beauty this new season holds!  Though it’s true these thoughts all lay at the heart of the Story of Spring, there is something much deeper and more profound than you can imagine still pressed between its pages. if we thumb through the story too quickly, our hearts are apt to miss it.

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“The Lover of Our Souls knows what thrills our hearts and speaks to our souls.”

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Many years ago, when I was still dating my husband, Jim, Spring came and almost went unnoticed. The world was in bloom all around me but, I was too preoccupied to dote on its beauty.  I was a busy twenty-year-old, working full-time as a checker in the same grocery store where I met Jim.  At the time, I was also living in an apartment located extremely close to a set of railroad tracks.  The rent price was right, or my roommate and I would’ve chosen very differently. The novelty of living by those railroad tracks wore off quickly every time the train whistle blew at midnight, and the intense vibrations from the train going by, sent the knick-knacks on my windowsill crashing to the floor.  As it ended up, the good that came from living next to those train tracks far outweighed these nuisances! 

One night, I returned home from work to find a beautiful bunch of Spring flowers in a vase on the kitchen table. 

My roommate explained, “Your sweetheart brought them to you…or should I say, he ran them to you!”

 Seeing my puzzled expression, she went on to explain that Jim, with flowers in hand, ran the train tracks stretching between his house and my apartment that night, just to bring me flowers! He intended to surprise me before he went away on a trip to California for a week. I called him every night he was gone to thank him for those beautiful flowers! Though I regretted missing him that night, the fragrance and beauty of those flowers became a lingering reminder of his sweet presence in my life.  They pointed me to the kind of man Jim was, and to the special love we shared. No one had ever done anything like that for me before.  As I stood out on the balcony that evening, looking down on those railroad tracks, I could only envision Jim running towards me with those flowers in his hand. My heart beat faster just thinking about it. There was something beyond special about being pursued in that way…and I’ve never forgotten it. 

That Spring season in my young life made an indelible mark on my heart. Not only did God provide me a beautiful picture of the heart of the man I was going to marry; He allowed my heart to see the image of Jim, running down those tracks toward me with flowers in his hand, as a stunning reflection of the way the Lord Himself pursues each of our hearts with His Love.   Intentionally…Faithfully…and Relentlessly!

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“With knowledge of God’s Love pursuing us every moment of every day of our life; why would we choose to run in any other direction but towards Him?”

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Not a Spring has passed since this time that I don’t look out my kitchen bay window and see the bold, bright colors of returning wildflowers, and the fragrant, pastel blossoms of the plum tree branches, as anything less than the flowers God is holding in His Hand…while He’s running towards my heart every Spring. They are the fragrant reminders of His Love and Sweet Presence in my life. The Lord’s Love for us is the greatest reason I can think of for calling Spring, ‘The Season of Love.’

Nothing on earth compares to being relentlessly pursued by the Lover of our souls.  Through every facet of beauty planted inside the Spring season, I sense God enticing our hearts to experience for ourselves the depth of Love He feels towards us. Much like the bouquet of flowers Jim surprised me with so many years ago; every petal and blossom of Spring expresses in its own way, the Lord’s desire to ‘be with us’ all the days of our lives. Every Fragrance is a sweet reminder of the Eternal Love He offers us, until His return.  With knowledge of such a Great Love pursuing us every moment of every day of our life; why would we choose to run in any other direction but towards Him? That’s a question each of us must answer for ourselves.  What will be your response, when you look down the tracks of your life and see the Lover of your soul running towards you, Flowers in Hand, in Pursuit of your heart?

“Your unfailing love is better than life itself…”

(Psalm 63:3 NIV)

HEART TRAPPINGS PRAYER: Father, my heart is so thankful You are the Lover of my soul. As the beauty of Spring surrounds us, enable our winter-dulled senses to see You truly are the Beauty found in the midst of every fold and flower in this season!  King David cried out more than once, “Your Love is better than life!”  Spring echoes this same cry in its own way at every turn. There is not one corner of creation that isn’t somehow a reflection of Your living Hope, Love, and Faithfulness.  As You did for my own heart years ago, grant each one of us a fresh vision of Your Intentional…Faithful…and Relentless Love, always in Pursuit of our hearts!  We love You beyond words, Lord.

IN JESUS NAME…AMEN

“I love these little people. And it is

not a slight thing when they who are

so fresh from God, love us.”

–Charles Dickens–

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Cries in the Darkness

by Debbie Allen

As a mother, one of the greatest miracles I ever experienced in my life, was the beautiful act of giving birth to each of my three sons. Though it’s been over forty years ago since my youngest was born, few things in my life have compared to the experience of this miraculous moment!  I still remember the sweet sounds of each of my sons’ first cries; piercing my ears in the delivery room. Those cries always ushered in a look of great relief on my doctor’s face; before he stretched my son’s tiny squirming form out across my chest. I’ve never forgotten the incredible feeling of his tiny heartbeat racing against my own.  Drawing my newborn as close to me as I could, I knew from that moment forward; my life was never going to be the same.  My heart overflowed with the million little things I longed to one day share with this precious gift of love. However, my heart never imagined the immensity of all the things he’d be teaching me. 

Crying is every healthy, newborn’s first reaction to being pushed from his mother’s womb. Even as brand-new parents, Jim and I anticipated our son’s first cries. They were well-received inside the walls of the hospital delivery room.  But, our first night back home, it didn’t take us long to figure out why science labeled the cries of all newborn infants as biological sirens!  The joyous sounds we’d relished in the delivery room, suddenly mutated into ear-splitting cries in the darkness.  Cries equipped with the power to transform our peaceful home-front into a battle-front of sorts. That place where we engaged in a constant fight against sleep deprivation, and everything else that accompanied multiple responses to our baby’s needs all hours of the night!

Answering our son’s cries in the middle of the night, and fighting our way through those trenches of sleeplessness was no laughing matter.  I never imagined there was a level of exhaustion that could be so deep. Though sleep deprived nights proved to be a rigorous training ground for the first few weeks, eventually, the nightlife centered around my baby’s cries morphed into a new kind of normal. My routine didn’t change much, but my perspective shifted.  I began to see tiny miracles tucked inside those midnight runs to the nursery.  One night, half asleep, I scooped my little crier out of his crib to nurse him. In the stillness of those moments, the words of the doctor who delivered my son stormed back into my thoughts: “Y-e-s…” he’d spoken over my son’s first cries, “…these little wonders are wired for sound by God Himself!”  Though I’d given his words no thought at the time, now they captured my attention!

 A week later, at a doctor appointment, I asked Dr. Kirk what he’d meant by that statement. Grinning, he shared, “Humans naturally cater to their own needs; to a me-first mentality. One of the greatest of those needs is sleep. When a baby comes, unfortunately, that need doesn’t change. And if it were left up to moms and dads alone to wake themselves out of a dead sleep… babies might cry all night long. God had a better idea.  He equipped newborns, at birth, with the ability to cry at a decimal level so toxic to a parent’s brain; mom and dad will do anything to stop that sound.  It’s a sound that really can’t be ignored.”

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“God equipped newborns, at birth, to cry at a decimal level so toxic to a parent’s brain; mom and dad will do anything to stop that sound!”

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Hearing the truth behind my doctor’s explanation intrigued my young heart. I was in awe! With a vocabulary of one single word, “WAAAAAAHHHHHH!” my newborn son not only opened my eyes every night, but he also roused in me a deeper consciousness of just how intensely the Lord loves His children…both as newborns and as parents. By wiring newborns for sound the way He did, God in His wisdom, saved parents from themselves, as well as newborns from their parents! Perhaps on a deeper level, He even intended such noxiousness to rouse our sleepy spirits to see there are needs in this world much greater than our own…needs that really shouldn’t be ignored.

As time went on, I began to understand my son’s cries weren’t about the sleep I was losing…but the new insights I gained because of them.  Somewhere in-between his cries, my heart grasped another miraculous truth. The cries of my newborn were no less than God’s invitations to walk with Him in sacred places.  I began to see that every midnight trip I made down the hallway to the nursery, was really a promise to my son’s anxious heart that his cries were being heard; and my love would never fail him.  Pressed close to my heart while I nursed him, my son came to recognize my loving presence as the source of nourishment he could fully trust to satisfy the gnawing emptiness down inside of him. The thousands of miles I rocked him, caressing his tiny features, praying for fevers to break, singing over him and pacing the floor in the darkness while he cried; were all reflections to his innocent heart, that even though life was filled with struggles, our greatest Peace can still be found in the midst of our greatest storms.

As parents, our greatest desire for each of our infant sons was that they sensed through us; the reality of the Lord’s Loving Presence standing near to them on those sleepless nights. Even as newborn infants, Jim and I longed to introduce them to the cast-iron certainty of what it is to hear the encouraging Voice of the One Who Loves them most, Whispering down into their ears.  We prayed our sons would feel the comfort of Heaven’s Touch every time we embraced them in our earthly arms. And by God’s Grace, we hoped each of their tiny spirits somehow sensed the never-ending Faithfulness of the Lord’s Enduring Love surrounding them.

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“The righteous cry out and the Lord hears them.” (Psalm 310:17 NLT)

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So many things in life are intimately connected to our relationship with God, the Father.  Parenthood is no exception. Thanks to the miraculous way God wired my son’s cries, I came to know in a profound way, the beauty of walking in sacred places with my Heavenly Father. Every time I set my foot down beside my Father’s Foot in the darkness, it became a teachable moment for my young mother’s heart.  In the beginning, my desire was to become the perfect parent. But God envisioned something much greater for me. While I rocked my son back to sleep one night, I felt the rush of my Father’s Whispers telling me, “Stay like this little child.”  In the deep silence that followed, I pondered both His words and my son a little longer. I realized My Father, Who is the only Perfect Parent there will ever be; was asking me to consider the ways of my newborn son; and let them teach my heart how to Love Him even deeper.

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“His ears are open to their cries for help.” (Psalm 34:15b NLT)

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“Stay like this little child…” All of God’s children are called to love Him in this way. To love Him unreservedly, ‘with all our passion, prayer, muscle, and intelligence…’ (Luke 10:27 MSG). Like my newborn, we are not to be afraid to draw near to Him or cry out in the darkness that surrounds us. As we listen to the sounds of His Voice rising and falling in our ears, we come to know him as the One Who Loves us most.  His very Words speak Life down into us. They are the only trusted Source of Nourishment our soul needs.  The Father asks that we hear His Voice daily…listen to His Instruction…and walk in His Ways. Only then will our hearts come to know and trust in the Father’s Love without fear or reservation. 

Dearest Father in Heaven, I’m so thankful to be your child. Not only are You amazing, You do amazing things for us from our first breath to our last. From the moment You show us the way out of the darkness of our mother’s womb into the Light of Your Face, You are showing us the Way to Your Heart. Thank you, Father, for the gift of Your Whispers in my spirit so many years ago. I have both pondered them and treasured them my whole life long!  Now, Father, on a much grander scale…hear our cries in the darkness that surrounds us in both our nation and in this world. Open our spiritual eyes to see the greater needs of the helpless and respond. You are our only Answer!  You are our Father…we are Your children, those who never outgrow our need for Your Great Love. Help us to remember and remain faithful to the words You gave me so long ago: “Stay like this little child.”   Hear our cries and anoint us with the courage we need to act accordingly!

In JESUS name we pray, AMEN

 

Love’s Portrait

by Debbie Allen

It’s often been said, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.”  That ‘someone’ for my parents, Norm and Shirley Hutton, was the gift of ‘each other.’  They began their lives together as high school sweethearts, who fell in love and married soon after they graduated. For nearly 70 years, they walked together; side-by-side and fingers entwined, as each other’s soul mates, best friends, and lovers.  Sadly, the beautiful love story they shared over a lifetime was cut short this past year, when my mom passed away in December after a long battle with Alzheimer’s Disease.   Over time, Mom and Dad became each other’s ‘everything.’  That’s why it’s not surprising to find my dad’s eyes pointed toward heaven occasionally, in search of her. No doubt, he sees my mom standing on Heaven’s Stairway looking back at him; their hearts both agreeing that if they could’ve lived their lives on earth all over again, they’d have done it sooner…so they could’ve loved each other longer.

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“Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.”

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 Not long ago, Dad and I sat sorting pictures to be used in my mom’s memorial service.  In all our digging, I ran across a heart-shaped pillow I’d made them for their 50^th wedding anniversary celebration.  On one side of that satin pillow was mom’s graduation picture, and on the other side, my dad’s. What a stunning couple they were! And what beautiful memories awaited them at that point in their life. As I ran my fingers over the heart-shaped lace, framing my mom’s young face, I found it hard to look upon that pillow as anything less than a portrait of love.  A precious reminder to me of the timeline so many of us walked with my mom throughout her life.  So many of those good times reflected the richness of who she and my dad were; especially when they were together. One memory in particular, stands out above the rest.

About six years ago, my mom was recuperating from pneumonia, and my dad ended up in the hospital with a septic gall bladder.  He nearly died from all the complications that followed. Recovery from it all was slow.  By the time Dad returned home from the hospital, there were many health restrictions placed upon him; and multiple visits to be made by home-care nurses and physical therapists. In addition, I made daily trips to their house, monitoring and recording his vitals on a chart. Because I was such a stickler about Dad doing everything the nurses told him to do, he lovingly, nicknamed me ‘Nurse Ratchet.’  One day, while I was busy doing all the things I was supposed to do for him, Dad was just as busy doing everything the therapist and nurses asked him not to do.  Eating fatty foods that aggravated his gall bladder, drinking juices that worked against his blood thinners, and walking about the room without his oxygen or walker anywhere in sight!  Frustrated, I felt Nurse Ratchet clawing her way up to the surface of me; more than anxious to deliver an impromptu health and safety lecture, geared for the elderly who hear…but do not listen!  My tongue, a willing springboard for Nurse Ratchet’s stern words at this point; was unexpectedly silenced. Nurse Ratchet was disarmed in a split second by the familiar touch of a Hand on my shoulder. It was Jesus’ Hand.

Feeling His Presence beside me and knowing Nurse Ratchet’s ways were not His Ways; I felt compelled to watch what I’d deemed as unwanted chaos in front of me; with a new set of eyes.  Speechless, I saw my dad pull the oxygen tubing off of his own face again.  But this time he hobbled a few steps closer to Mom. With clumsy fingers, he secured the halo under her nose, rounded it up over each of her ears, bringing it down to a point beneath her chin.  Ironically enough, my eyes were drawn to the undeniable heart-shape the oxygen halo formed, laying against the contours of mom’s face.   

“There you go, my love…” Dad told her, “…you need this air worse than I do.”

Kissing Mom on the top of her head, his final instructions came to her in a loving whisper.  “Now… just breathe.”

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“You gave me life itself, and incredible Love.  You watched and guarded every breath I took…”

(Job 10:12 MSG)

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That moment took my breath away! So often, God hides His Beauty right in the midst of our everyday struggles. Somehow, our struggles deepen us to His Presence and often leave us with the memory of an experience we carry around in our hearts for the rest of our lives.  Even now, the tenderness of this scene between Mom and Dad that day still brings fresh tears. It wrecks me spiritually, when I think of just how great a Love was on display before me that day. With His Hand resting on my shoulder, Jesus used this moment in my parents’ love story to reflect to my heart the Greatest Love Story there ever was or ever will be! Jesus’ Love Story.  A picture of God’s One-and-Only Son giving-up His Own Breath for us; the day He died on the cross for all our sins. His is the greatest story of True Love and Sacrifice our hearts will ever encounter.  He has already chosen you to be His own.  Will you not respond by choosing His Love Story for your own?  Allow the soft Whispers of the One Who Loves you most, to resonate deep in your soul. Hear His Voice reminding you, “Just Breathe…for not only are you My Love, you are My Life.”    My heart knows well, there is no greater Portrait of Love than this! 

 

                             

Dearest Heavenly Father, thank you for the beautiful portrait of love You gave me through my parent’s own love story. I will carry this priceless gift in my heart for the rest of my life. It continually points me to Your own Portrait of True Love.  Only Your Love is big enough to fuel our hearts for the many difficulties we are promised to encounter in this life. Stand by us, Lord, in those times.  Steer us clear of the endless counterfeit loves that lie in our paths every day. Tune our ears to hear Your Voice beckoning our spirits to, “Just Breathe…” for there is beauty in even our struggles.  Sustain us with Your True Love and may our hearts find comfort in this great truth:   

 “True Love bears all, endures all, and triumphs in the end!”

IN JESUS NAME…AMEN

The Great Unraveling

by Debbie Allen

“Beautiful things come together one stitch at a time.”

 My Junior High, Home Economics teacher, Ms. Dee, repeated this catchy phrase to my 8^th grade sewing class every morning for an entire semester. Yes…every single day that classroom swelled with the groans and sighs of teenagers, cringing at the dreaded sounds of those words filtering through our ears one more time. Despite constant opposition, Ms. Dee continued sowing her repetitious jingle into our minds, hoping that someday it might take root in our hearts.   But, our restless, teenaged, know-it-all ways, prevented most of us from grasping what Ms. Dee was determined to instill in each of us. Her simple, sewing truth:

‘If we took our time, followed all her tried-and-true guidelines and instructions… if we pressed-on one stitch at a time; then the end result always guaranteed us something beautiful in hand.’

A few students caught on to the beauty of her teaching; and sailed through their sewing projects to the finish line. Others of us, however, learned a brand-new lesson the hard way: ‘If we strayed, we paid!’

I, unfortunately, was one of those students who strayed, and paid.  Though it was anything but typical for me to behave in such a manner; the thought of falling behind on my sewing project and nearing the deadline for its completion, pressured me into thinking I had no choice but, to take things into my own hands.  I ignored the teachings of the sewing truth and replaced it with my only solution.  Cutting corners.  So much for Ms. Dee’s one-stitch-at-a-time theory. I stayed after school every night and went in early every morning, sewing fast and furious all the way! If sewing machines had tailpipes, mine would’ve been smoking! Needing to save time, I skipped over most of Ms. Dee’s guidelines, including tying knots in all the loose ends I’d cut; in every section being sewn together.

“After all,” I thought to myself, “who’s going to see it on the underside anyway?”

At the end of my marathon sewing sessions, I turned the jumper I’d made in to Ms. Dee on time; more than glad to be done with it!

The very next day, Ms. Dee called me up to her desk and told me I’d received an “A” on my jumper. I r-e-a-l-l-y couldn’t believe it; in light of the shady sewing tactics, I’d defaulted to.  I breathed a sigh of relief; thinking I’d gotten away with my bad choices and figured life would go back to normal.  That’s when I heard Ms. Dee make an unexpected announcement to our class. Every word of it filled me with dread and kept me tossing and turning every night for the rest of that week. 

“Class…as a reward for all your hard work, each of you are going to have an opportunity to model the piece of clothing you made for yourselves; in the auditorium, before your classmates and parents; at the first Junior High School Fashion Show ever!”

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“Beautiful things come together one-stitch-at-a-time …but, when you stray you pay.”

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The day of the fashion show, the words that pursued our class for an entire semester were now displayed on a banner stretched across the length of the stage: “Beautiful things come together one-stitch-at a-time.”

Most of the students who walked out and stood under those words, did so with great pride and a clear conscience. I felt as though I should’ve been standing under a banner all my own. One that read: “When You Stray, You Pay!”

Hearing Mrs. Dee call my name at the fashion show, I walked out onto the auditorium stage mortified; convinced that any minute all the loose threads I’d cut and left untied throughout my jumper were going to unravel and fall to pieces on the stage floor, while the whole world watched!  I flattened my boney, elbows so tightly down against my dress to help hold it together, my ribs hurt for two days afterwards!  It wasn’t the reward I was looking for.

The greatest reward I received at the Fashion Show that day wasn’t the applause or even the fact that the unraveling pieces of my jumper didn’t fall from my limbs after all. No…as I stood, trembling, beneath Ms. Dee’s sewing truth, my know-it-all, teenage heart finally grasped the reality of the dire consequences that are guaranteed to follow; when you replace truth meant for your own good; with your own misguided ways of thinking.

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“God’s ‘Banner of Truth’ remains hanging over us, regardless of the choices we choose to make.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 After the fashion show that day, I scurried home and hung that infamous jumper, front-and-center in my closet; where it remained for many years. I left it turned inside-out; as a visual reminder to my heart of the day of The Great Unraveling…not only for a dress but, for a young teenage girl.

Though this story wasn’t one of my finest moments in life, I share it with you because it still speaks volumes about how each of us are called to live our lives before our Heavenly Father. We are given the opportunity to walk one-step-at-a-time, drawing our instruction and directions from God’s Word. If we let Him teach us, His Word instills Wisdom in our minds—acting as a lamplight to guide us on the pathways of our life. His Banner of Truth hangs over all of us, regardless of our choices. 

This world is our stage and the way we walk beneath His Banner of Truth matters more than you can ever imagine.  There will come a day when God calls your name, Will you walk out and stand beneath His Banner of Truth with unbridled joy, knowing His Word lives inside of you, and your faithfulness to model His Son on earth are His Greatest Joy?    Or will you be the self-guided one filled with regret, who traded away God’s Wisdom for folly, and modeled your own mis-guided ways before a watching world? And when your life came apart at the seams, you realized far too late:

“When you stray from God’s Truth and Guidelines for living life… you pay with your own soul for all Eternity!”

Heavenly Father Above, forgive us for bending Your beautiful Truths and for exchanging them for our own ways. Our world is full of Truth Benders. But, when the untied threads of our earthly lives begin to unravel—we feel the error of our own ways.  Our feeble hearts pound and our spirits reel at the thought of having made so many wrong choices in life, even though deep down, we knew better. Lord, hear our desperate cries.  Strengthen our hearts and keep us from yielding to the world’s mis-guided ways of thinking. Enable Your children to stand strong in this next year, under Your ‘Banner of Truth’. For we are not capable of piecing our own lives back together without Your Truth…Your Wisdom…and Your Perfect Guidance!   We Love You, LORD! IN JESUS NAME…AMEN 

 

God performs wonders

that cannot be fathomed,

miracles that cannot be

counted.”

Job 5:9

Treasure in the Darkness

by Debbie Allen

Fleeing for her life on a midnight drive from Virginia; Angela hadn’t time to ponder what life might look like for her as a single mom, struggling to raise three kids on her own. All she knew that night was this.  After catching a glimpse of her fresh, black eye in the rear-view mirror, alongside the reflection of the three loves-of-her-life, asleep in the back seat of her car; it was enough to keep her driving for days on end. By the time the adrenaline surge inside her heart subsided, Angela found herself and three little ones, standing before a total stranger; listening while he pointed them in the direction of a one-room cabin he had for rent in Pinecone Junction; a small town nestled high up in the Colorado mountains.

Angela and her children arrived in Pinecone Junction, with little more than the clothes on their back and determined looks on their faces. After handing Mr. Harvey, the kind, stranger, one month’s rent on-the-spot, her cash supply was nearly depleted. She knew she needed to make-do until she could find a job. But, for now…the thought of a little cabin they could call their own for a while was a welcome change from eating roadside, and sleeping in the car; like they’d done for the last two weeks. 

“Ok, boys…watch for a sign that says, Snowman Gulch.”  “That’s our turn-off. “  

Just short of reaching the edge of town, 8-year-old, Tony piped-up.  “Mom!  I see it…it’s right there!   Snow…man…Gulch!

They hadn’t driven more than a mile down that dirt road before Jack, 6 years-old, spoke-up, in his usual inquisitive tone.   “Mommy, I see deers and bunches of flowers in the field but…I just can’t see any snowmens.”  “Where are they?”

“Oh, Jack…” Angela answered, trying not to smile, “It’s summer here now. You know snowmen can only be seen in the winter after the snow falls!”

By the time she finished her sentence, the car was filled with laughter.  Jack was laughing at himself.  Tony was laughing at Jack…and Ellie, 3 years-old, was laughing, just because she could! 

As they pulled up in front of the little cabin-in-the-woods; a tear rolled down Angela’s cheek.  Her heart was full at the sounds of her children laughing together once again. One of many things that fear had erased from each of their lives back in Virginia. Helping Ellie up onto the porch, Angela’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Turning the key in the rustic lock, she and the boys pushed the creaky, pine plank door open.

“Oh wow…its perfect, Mom!” Tony assured her.

“And I can get up on this and look for the snowmen…when they come!” Jack insisted, boosting himself up onto a little bench under a picture window overlooking the porch. He wasn’t thoroughly convinced yet that snowmen didn’t live all-year-round in a place named Snowman Gulch.

“This place will be what we make it, boys!” Angela replied, already feeling safer than she’d felt for a long time.  Tony and Jack ran for the bunk beds on the opposite side, shouting as they went, “I get the top bunk…I get the bottom bunk!”

Angela scooped up little, Ellie, clinging tight to her leg with her thumb in her mouth. 

“I guess us girls will take that beautiful brass bed in the corner!”

Wriggling free from Mama’s arms, even Ellie ran for her bed screaming, “Mine…mine!” all the way there.

“Yes…” Angela thought, watching Ellie claw her way up onto the big, brass bed.  The cabin was small, but it truly was a Godsend!”

With her past waitressing experience, Angela took on a job right away at the local diner. Though she didn’t make much, with tips, her salary covered the rent and bought a few sparse groceries to keep on hand.  On the nights when the cupboards were bare bone, her boss, Lilly, just seemed to know when to send home extras from the diner with her, to feed the kids. Lilly also loaned Angela a car to drive; when Angela was forced to sell her own car for enough cash to keep them afloat. She’d cut up all her credit cards when they left Virginia to lessen the possibility of her where-abouts ever being traced.  Her desire was to sever all ties with her husband, Ken. Both she and the kids had suffered enough at his hand over the years. And now that her dad recently passed away too, there was no going back to Virginia…ever.  Keeping Tony, Jack, and Ellie safe was her first and only priority these days.

 Though life in Pinecone Junction was good…Angela couldn’t deny that it had also been tough on them all.   Lilly, who became a close friend, Mr. Harvey, her landlord, and many other neighbors stepped in over the last six months, to help her out when they could. Angela was grateful for all the clothing donated for her and the kids; especially with the cold weather arriving. But tonight, was Christmas Eve. Though her paycheck covered the rent; there was next to nothing left over to buy gifts for the kids. Heartbroken at the thought of it, and exhausted from work, Angela plopped down in the big pine, rocking chair in front of a crackling fire.  The kids were tucked into bed and fast asleep, excited for their first Christmas morning at the cabin.  The sweet words Jack prayed at bedtime, still rang in her ears. 

“And God…could you please just bring me a snowman for Christmas? They’ve been hiding from me all year.”

With a sigh and a smile, she propped her feet up on the warm hearth wrapping herself up in the Christmas quilt she found in the cabin attic.  Despair, fear, and anxiety all pressing down on her heart at once, she began to sob. In between tears she caught sight of the three white, socks that Tony, Jack, and Ellie laid on the hearth for Santa to fill, knowing their Christmas stockings had been left back in Virginia.

“What precious children you have given to me. God” Angela sobbed.   “Oh, dear Lord…I don’t deserve them. They’ve been through so much. I feel like such a failure in so many ways…God, please tell me what to do.”

Burying her face deeper into the quilt to muffle her sobs, she heard something in the background.  Lifting her head to listen, Angela composed herself enough to tip-toe over and check on the kids. They hadn’t moved since she tucked them in. 

“There it was again!” she thought, growing even more alarmed.  “Something…or someone was definitely moving around on her front porch!” 

“Oh God…please keep us safe.” She prayed, feeling the all-too-familiar, panic rising-up inside of her.

 “Maybe it was Ken…had he finally found them…and now he was coming to take back his children with force and…who knows what he would do to her!!!”  she imagined silently, to the tune of her own pounding heart.

Crouching down now on the opposite side of Ellie’s bed, she reached up and grabbed the phone off of the night stand; then made her way over to the hearth where she could see to call the sheriff.  Half-way through punching his number into the phone, Angela stopped.  She listened once more intently, then turned the phone off.

 “It’s too late now to call the Sheriff anyway.” She reasoned.  If it was Ken, he would’ve already busted that old pine door down by now and been terrorizing them all.  

“Something strange was going on.” She thought, noticing an aura of colored light reflecting through the picture window.

Grabbing the fireplace poker, like she’d seen so many times in the movies; she tip-toed over to the front door and just stood there…listening. The shuffling noise had stopped. When what seemed like an eternity had passed, Angela took a deep breath, raised the poker, and turned the door knob slowly. Glancing back at the kids once more, she flung the door wide open!

“I can’t believe my eyes.” Angela whispered in awe.  “It’s a little Christmas tree, all lit up… it’s so beautiful.” She added, looking for signs of who might have delivered it. 

Underneath that tree were three Christmas stockings filled to the brim with gifts and goodies for the kids.  Even their names were embroidered on each stocking.

 “I…I can’t believe this.” Angela said, holding back tears and shivering in the cold. And if that wasn’t enough, what she saw over the top of the Christmas tree, out in the yard, nearly took her breath away! 

“Snowmen…someone built Jack his snowmen!”

As she looked closer at the snowmen, her heart melted. Never before had she seen anything like this before! Two snowmen…one of them a daddy, and the other one a child! Both of them appeared to be making snow angels in the snow.

“My Daddy and I made snow angels together, every Christmas Eve when I was growing up!” she whispered. “Thank you, God…only You could’ve known this…and how very much I miss my Dad this Christmas.”

With more than a grateful heart, Angela transported the stockings and the little tree back into the cabin, placing them near the hearth. 

“What a beautiful sight.” She marveled, plugging-in the tree again. It was decorated with envelope after envelope, tied to the branches with red, satin ribbon.  Angela reached for the one at the top of the tree first.  Her name was written on it.  Opening it, three hundred-dollar bills fell into her lap.

“This is the rent money, I handed to Mr. Harvey earlier tonight!”  

The unsigned note inside of it read simply, “Merry Christmas!”

The little Christmas tree’s branches were loaded with handwritten notes of encouragement, coupons for free babysitting, gift cards to the General Store, as well as many other shops in Pinecone Junction. There were even homemade cookies hanging on some of the branches.   

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Angela recognized that this Christmas tree was decorated with love. The love of strangers who, over time, became friends; friends who became family; and of course, the Love of God disguised in them all.

Curling up next to Ellie that night, in her big brass bed, Angela wept silent, tears of great joy.  She couldn’t stop thinking about her Dad, the snowmen making snow angels, and the beautiful Christmas tree placed on her porch. What had begun this Christmas Eve as a nightmare for her, had ended as a miracle. The miracle of Christmas was written across every gift she’d received tonight. And the next morning, it would again be written in the expressions that Tony, Jack, and Ellie are wearing when their sleep-filled, eyes behold the beauty of the treasures that came to them in the darkness…much like God’s Gift of Love, the Baby Jesus, came to us in the darkness of that first Christmas Eve night.

“Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15)

May you be inspired by Giving, changed by Love, filled with Peace, and touched by your own Christmas Miracles in this Season of Love, and in the New Year to come!

“Be joyful always,

Pray continually;

Give thanks in

all circumstances…”

(1 Thess. 5:16-18a NIV)

____________________________

Five L-o-n-g Minutes

by Debbie Allen

Listening to the soft sounds of deep sleep still wafting over from my husband’s side of the bed; I raised my sleepy eyes up into the skylight above us. I began to pray silently for the day. Having long understood that every new day offers me an opportunity to go a little deeper with God, I asked Him to teach me more about His Heart, His Ways, and His Character… so I might become a better reflection of His Love to others. Though this wasn’t the first time I’d ever asked God for these things…it was the first time I remember ending my prayer with this request: “Lord…draw my eyes to Your Presence today… and please help me not to miss anything You have for me.”  After a soft ‘amen’ and a smile in God’s direction, I jumped up to get ready; totally unaware of the impact those last few words I prayed would have on me and my husband before the day was over.

Every Wednesday morning, Jim and I meet family for breakfast at a favorite Denny’s Restaurant. The waitresses greet us with a smile, and have a cup of coffee ready and waiting for us by the time we reach the table they’ve already set up for us.  We are so regular as customers here; they don’t offer us menus anymore because our waitress has memorized what all six of us order each time!  Even if we forget, they remember. Talk about predictable! However, about halfway through our breakfast this day, anything labeled predictable disappeared from sight.

After our waitress refilled my coffee, I heard my husband, Jim, sigh so I turned towards him.  He was looking back at me but, after speaking just two words, his eyes closed and his head dropped down until his chin came to rest on his chest. It was almost like someone just unplugged him. Though still in a sitting position, he was out cold.  Nothing could’ve prepared me for that! He’d hardly been sick a day in his entire life. My heart raced at the thought of it.  Holding his limp hand in mine, I slipped my other hand around the back of his neck; lifting his head up while trying to talk to him. I continued looking for signs of a stroke or heart attack, while my sister-in-law frantically called 911. For five l-o-n-g minutes, I spoke into Jim’s glazed, brown eyes, praying the sounds of my voice might stir him back to consciousness. He remained nonresponsive. I felt totally helpless. I couldn’t help but wonder what parts of our life together were about to change…maybe forever.

By the time the paramedics arrived, Jim was stirring once more and insisting, “I’m ok…I feel fine.” After a barrage of questions, the paramedics reluctantly, allowed him to walk over to the gurney waiting for him at Denny’s front doors, and then they loaded him into the back of their vehicle and closed the doors.

As I stood alone in the shadow of the rescue truck that morning, my hands were trembling and my heart still pounding. One “what if?” after another marched, uninvited, into the chaos of my swirling thoughts.  That’s when I looked up to see a young, pregnant, woman walking through the parking lot and heading straight for me.  Though she was a complete stranger, she stopped and wrapped her arm around my shoulder asking, “Are you alright?” Her kind eyes looking into mine, she listened intently while I recounted the morning’s unexpected events.  To my surprise, she grasped my hands in hers and began to pray for both Jim and me. By the time she uttered her sweet ‘amen’, my hands were again steady and my heart much calmer.  Calm enough to drive myself to the hospital where the paramedics took Jim for a second opinion and a more thorough examination. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Lord…You are Peace in my turmoil, Light in my shadows, and the Arm around my shoulders when

my world is spinning.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 Long story short, Jim and I left the hospital later that evening with more than thankful hearts.  Though we found it impossible to believe, he received a clean bill of health and was told that this health crisis ‘may or may not ever happen again in his lifetime.’ Jim, who isn’t fond of doctors or hospitals, was perfectly, satisfied with that definite-maybe diagnosis, but my own heart, though grateful, felt compelled to look deeper behind the scenes.

You see, I began that morning with a very specific prayer, asking the Lord to ‘teach me more about Himself, to draw my eyes to His Presence’ and ‘… not let me miss anything He had for me in this day.’  Through the unexpected and chaotic events that followed, I believe God, in His own lavish way, was answering those prayers…and then some.

 I felt the Lord’s Strength in those first few moments I sat holding the limp hand of the one who’d always held mine. I felt His Courage wash over me as I looked into Jim’s empty eyes; eyes that only a few seconds earlier reflected both light and love back to me. I sensed my Lord standing beside me in the shadows of that morning. I felt His Presence in the warmth of a stranger’s arm wrapped tight around my shoulders…and experienced His Peace in the beautiful words that flowed from the prayer this kind stranger prayed for Jim and I.

It wouldn’t be an understatement for me to say that those ‘five l-o-n-g minutes’ in my life that day taught me something I hope I never forget.  Even while standing in the middle of all our life’s troubles; we are able to hang-on to the Goodness and Love of the Lord; acknowledging the Truth that it is only “because of the LORD’s great Love we are not consumed” (Lamentations 3:22). Every step we walk in the direction of whatever God is pointing us towards, draws us closer to His Great Heart; deepening us and helping us to understand a little more of who we are and who we can be, when we find ourselves standing in the Light of His Presence and Love.

“The blessings are sweetest that are won with prayer and worn with thanks.”

–Thomas Goodwin–

Lord and Father in Heaven, remind our hearts in this season of Thanksgiving, that it is the Gift of Your Presence walking alongside us in life that should be the greatest THANKYOU of our life!  Your unfailing Love and awe-inspiring deeds continually leave us breathless. Teach us how we can “let every detail in our lives—words, actions, whatever— be done in the name of Jesus, thanking You, God the Father, every step of the way” (Col. 3:17 msg). Whatever the circumstances, open our eyes to the intrinsic value of being able to choose to walk in the Shadow of Your Presence and Love all the days of our lives!  Thankyou that even in our hardest times, You offer us Compassion and bring us unspeakable Joy.  Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou!

In Jesus’ Name We Pray…AMEN

 

“In every walk

with nature,

one receives

far more than

he seeks.”

–John Muir–

___________________

Secrets of the Juniper

by Debbie Allen

 Feeling both awestruck and apprehensive, my husband and I climbed cautiously down to an overlook platform jutting out over the rim of the magnificent, Black Canyon, in Gunnison National Park. We marveled at how small and insignificant we felt while standing on its edges, looking down into the swift flowing currents of the Gunnison River, more than 2,250 feet below us! We were surprised to find that portions of these canyon walls remain shrouded in darkness year-round, because the walls are so steep even sunlight can’t reach them.

However, this same shadowy blackness enveloping the canyon walls also served to deepen the shades of gold we saw splashed across the aspens lining the canyon. Even the rockiest of ledges were adorned with ribbons of foliage, all aglow with deep plums and muted rusts. Together this scene became an unexpected masterpiece for our eyes to feast upon.  Though we were content to linger in this spot forever, time restraints pushed us back to the car and down the road to a place not far from the canyon’s edge. It was rocky there too… but not beautiful.  My eyes perceived it only as a wilderness. The landscape stood in stark contrast to what we’d driven away from.  It was hot, dusty and the only living thing we could see for miles around, besides the tourists, were scraggly looking pines in twisted shapes and sizes.  There were no golds, plums, or even rusts to enliven the view.  Only prickly, ever-greens…and some of those were turning brown.  Reluctantly, I followed my husband to the ‘Point of Interest’ sign which overlooked what I’d already deemed a wilderness.

“Nothing to stir my heart here.” I uttered in silent disappointment. 

But, oh how wrong I was! Sometimes it’s the very things our eyes deem as worthless that become what God uses to stir our hearts back to new life and shift our perspectives!”

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 ” Sometimes it’s the very things our eyes deem as worthless that become what God uses

to stir our hearts back to new life and shift our perspectives!”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I read the information on the sign, I learned that the pines I wouldn’t’ve given anybody two cents for moments earlier; were called Junipers.  Many of the Junipers have been standing firm on the far rocky edges of the Black Canyon for 600-800 years! The sign went on to say: ‘Their trunks have been twisted by the prevailing winds.  The fierceness of winter storms has shaped them.  Lightning has scarred them.  Drought has trimmed their branches to the bare minimum. But they endure.’

“BUT THEY ENDURE.”  It was these last three words that breathed new life back into my heart.  I now stood in silent wonder before these scraggly pines marveling at the message God created His Junipers to reflect back into this world. A message that captured my heart and gave me a visual for what silent surrender and true endurance look like; even while living in the midst of a wilderness. The beauty of the Juniper lay hidden in the message God created them to bear to this world. Oddly enough, I began to see that the same thing is true of God’s own children.

As a child of God, we too, are equipped to stand strong in those seasons we find ourselves planted on the rocky edges of life’s wilderness. Like the Junipers, we are called to reflect God’s Love back into this world.  Yes, there will be fierce storms to face; but even as winds prevail all around us, we can know God’s Hand is at work in their midst, shaping us for His wise purposes.  Sometimes, our knees will buckle, as though lightning just struck us down; yet in God’s Strength, we rise above the circumstances, bearing our scars and finding new life in spite of the harshness of our living conditions.  Droughts threaten to overtake us. Lean times will find us…physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. But the child of God is like the Juniper, the most drought-resistant tree on earth.  The Juniper sends its roots deep down into the rock where it’s been planted and even at the end of a drought season; remains standing firm, mature and evergreen.  The child of God clings to the Rock [God] and remains “… like a tree planted by water, that sends its roots by the stream [God], and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.” (Jeremiah 17:7-8 msg).  

Our world is filled with creations that point our hearts towards God’s Love.  From the brightest glows of the Autumn season to the shadowy depths of the beautiful, Black Canyon; to the twisted Junipers anchored in the rocks of an unexpected wilderness; the message of God’s Love is undeniable. All of creation, in some way or another, reflects that message back to this broken world.

As children of God, we are planted on earth to purposefully, reflect God’s Ways, His Truths, and His Love before others. In a sense, we are to be someone else’s visual of what silent surrender and true endurance look like in life…even in the hardest of times.  Like the Whispers of God continually echoing off the walls of the matchless Black Canyon, may the message of our own lives resound the breadth, length, depth, and heights of God’s unfailing Love, to this watching world.  And like the Junipers that thrive even on the edges of the harshest wilderness, no matter what storms come our way in life; may it forever be said of us, as faithful children of God…BUT THEY ENDURED!

“Embrace this God-life. Really embrace it,

nothing will be too much for you.”

(Mark 11:22a MSG)

Dearest Lord, You are the Creator of all things everywhere. Your Love, Beauty and Goodness envelope all of creation, including Your children. And if our eyes somehow miss seeing the Beautiful Truth of it, it’s because we are not looking for it. Enable the eyes of our hearts to see the wonders You have placed within creation. Teach us the secret of the Juniper tree; who sends its roots down deep into the rock and at the end of a season filled with drought; is found ‘standing firm, mature, and ever-green.’  Father God, You are our Strength, our Stronghold, our Safe Retreat when storms descend.  Strengthen our hearts as we continue to learn the pattern of Your Righteous and Loving ways.  Whether in darkness or in light, wherever You plant us, may our lives faithfully reflect the unfathomable heights and depths of Your Love before the eyes of this watching world.  For we know beyond any shadow of doubt that without You… our hearts cannot endure.

IN JESUS NAME…AMEN

“Sometimes all you

can do is NOT think,

NOT wonder, NOT

imagine, NOT obsess.

Just breathe and

have FAITH because

miracles do happen.”

_________________________

A Matter of the Heart

by Debbie Allen

When I was only a young teen, I remember my Pastor peering over the top of his Clark Kent-glasses and addressing the congregation on ‘faith in difficult times’. In an effort to cement in our hearts a clearer picture of what that faith might look like; Reverend Massi finalized his message that day, with this quote by Corrie Ten Boom.

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” – Corrie Ten Boom-

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’ve never forgotten the wisdom in those words to this day!  My own heart has dredged them up countless times over the years, especially while journeying through my own tunnels in life.

A few years ago, I sat confidently on the edge of a cardiologist’s examination table; awaiting the results of an echogram on my heart. I started coming to see Dr. J as a precautionary measure only…or so I thought.  But she discovered I had two heart valves showing signs of leakage.  Still in shock that what I deemed my perfectly good heart, didn’t receive the clean bill of health I’d expected; I winced at her next words to me.   

“At some point in time…those valves will need to be repaired.”  

 I asked her if there was anything I could do on my own to strengthen those valves in any way.   

“No…” Dr. J replied in a very cut-and-dry tone. “Once the damage has been done there’s really nothing you can do to reverse it.”

The finality in her voice left my mind reeling and my heart pounding. Out of nowhere, Fear lurched forth to see what chaos he could contribute. Slipping-in close, he murmured his own flawed words of encouragement to my heart. “Hopeless…Hopeless…H-o-p-e-l-e-s-s!”  he jeered, at least a hundred times before I reached my car.  Collapsing down into the warmth of a patch of autumn sunshine on my seat, made me feel as though I’d just climbed into the Lap of Jesus.  In that safe place I prayed, shedding a few reluctant tears and pouring out the matter of my heart to Him.

“Lord?  Here I am. Your child…Your broken child.  I know that nothing is hopeless with You in it.  But please…show me the way through this!”

By the time my car reached the edge of the parking lot that day, my heart heard His gentle response to the tune of my own quickened pulse; “My child… sit still… and trust… the Engineer.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Through these familiar words from my teen years, the Lord let me know that my life’s tracks had led me into a tunnel.  Though my eyes couldn’t see past the darkness of right now, the Engineer could.  My part on His Train was to ‘sit still’ and ‘trust Him’.

Five-and-a-half years have passed since my first visit to see Dr. J. In all that time, her diagnosis of my heart hasn’t changed, and the cardiograms all read about the same. Even her words to me after each check-up remained the same.

“We’ll just keep an eye on things and see you next year!”   

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Though my own eyes couldn’t see past the darkness of right now, I knew The Engineer could. My part on His Train was to ‘sit still’ and ‘trust Him’.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

This year, however, something did change.  Dr. J entered the room in silence, studying my cardiogram; frowning, and shaking her head.  Used to being in the dark by now; I chose to use her silence as the backdrop from which the Engineer’s words resonated down inside of me, “Sit still…Trust Me…Sit still…Trust Me!”  

When she finally spoke, her words startled me.

Still scratching her head, she shared, “Your cardiogram reading this time was r-e-a-l-l-y good! I can’t understand it.  It makes no sense.”

Somewhere between shocked and elated, all I could think to say back was, “What do you think caused that?”

 Dr. J turned towards me, still pondering the results, and clamoring for the right words.  “I…honestly… I don’t know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Knowing the answer to my own question at that point, I offered back,

“Must be the Grace of God!”

My words ushered a great silence into the room.  Though I knew she heard me, I watched Dr. J continue trying to make sense out of solid medical facts that weren’t adding up, and the plain truth of my miracle results. I honestly believe that Dr. J left the room that day feeling more perplexed than I ever did!

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 “Often, He takes you to unwanted places, in uncharted territories for our frail hearts; just to expose His Love in you, to the empty and unbelieving souls that pepper life’s way.”

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Miracles, even small ones, and the stories connected to them draw a stark line between the doubts and denials of the unbelieving world, and the undeniable Truths of believers in Jesus.  Riding the rails of Life with Jesus as your Engineer, He promises you will see some amazing sights along the way. The mountains are high and steep, but Beauty often resides where the air is thinnest.  Countless times, He takes you to unwanted places, in uncharted territories for our frail hearts; just to expose His Love in you, to the empty and unbelieving souls that pepper life’s way.   There will be tunnels, too.  I have learned to look upon them as the Shafts of His Grace, carved by His Hand into our mountains, which reflect a picture of Jesus, carrying us through the darkness in His Strength.  In the place where our hearts can no longer see clearly; we are given an opportunity to learn what it is to ‘sit still’ and ‘trust the Engineer’.  His purposes are far greater than any mountain we will ever encounter in our life. As far as tunnels are concerned… God’s calling on the lives of His children doesn’t stop, even inside the tunnels we enter into.  Wherever we are, we are called to show the difference God makes in our life in a manner that points others to Jesus. For, sometimes we discover that it’s in the act of ‘trusting the Engineer’ in the darkness, that we become the miracle He’s performing in another’s life!

“[We are] God’s instruments to do His work and speak out for Him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference He made for you…” (2 Peter:10 b)

Father in Heaven, You are Lord over our lives whether in darkness or in light.  We will never know or appreciate Your Faithful Love in our lives until we learn to take it seriously. King David describes Your Love “as high as the heavens are above the earth.” (Ps. 103:11 CSB) It’s a Love way beyond our comprehension and ability to understand it.  But You do not ask us to make sense of it…just to ‘sit still’ and ‘trust’ in You.   Strengthen our frail hearts to see Your Hand at work in both our tunnels of darkness and our brightest of days. Teach us to see each of them as a chance for Your Miraculous Love and unfailing Strength to shine through us, into the unbelieving world! In Jesus Precious Name…AMEN

 

“Though our feelings

come and go,

God’s Love for us

does not.”

–C. S. Lewis-–

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A LABOR OF LOVE

by Debbie Allen

One of the many things on my summer to-do list, was for my husband and I to rebuild and refinish an old, wooden swing-set/jungle gym in our backyard.  It was meant to be a labor of love for our grandchildren.  With this in mind, Jim and I set aside time to work on it, money to buy replacement wood and parts, and the energy needed to accomplish all the hard work required of us for seeing this project through to the end.  What we didn’t factor in was all of the unforeseen snags we encountered along the way. Rotting and split wood, rusted screws, broken monkey bar rungs, and a new cover for the fort that didn’t fit on the roof my husband just finished building. Ugh!

Far worse than any other struggle we tackled, were the temperatures we worked in.  The temperatures soared up to nearly 100 degrees for the duration of the project. As the heat climbed, our energy levels plummeted. So, any board or post that could be disassembled from the frame, was piled on our patio, where I stood under the ceiling fans, painting each piece that came my way.  Unfortunately, that left Jim out in the heat with the skeleton of the swing set, yanking rusty screws from old pieces and sanding what seemed like hundreds of miles of splintery, weathered wood.

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“God will meet you where you are in order to take you where He wants you to go.”

(Tony Evans/Instagram)

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 Because of the fans and high temperatures, my paint dried so fast, I ended up having more down time than I wanted.  By about the fourth miserably, hot day, both of us were disappointed that things weren’t progressing according to our original plan.  We knew we were too far along by now to quit, yet, not far enough along to see the finish line.   Discouraged, my husband headed out to what I’d come to call his ‘Jungle-Jim’ and I sat down on the patio for my morning devotional; before picking up a paint brush. Even sitting in the cool of that morning, all I could think about was the dreaded afternoon heat yet to come. It zapped our strength and made a half-day’s work feel like it should’ve been quitting time.  Trying to stifle the thought of it, I opened my Bible to a chapter in the book of Isaiah and began to pray silently:

“Lord, thank you for overseeing this ‘labor of love.’ I ask again for You to strengthen our hands for this great task and our resolve in this great heat…in Jesus Name, Amen.”

My guess is that I must’ve sounded as discouraged on the inside as I felt on the outside because when I came to Isaiah 58: I knew without a doubt that God was speaking directly to my own heart.  The passage read:

“Then you will call,

And the LORD will answer;”

You will cry for help, and

He will say, ‘Here I am.’

And the Lord will continually guide you,

And satisfy your desire in scorched and dry places,

And give strength to your bones;

And you will be like a watered garden,

And like a spring of water whose waters do not fail.

And [you] will rebuild the ancient ruins;

You will raise up and restore the age-old foundations;

You will be called Repairer…Restorer…”

(Isaiah 58:9, 11-12 AMP) 

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“And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched and dry places,

and give strength to your bones.” (Isaiah 58:11a) 

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If ever there were a ‘scorched and dry place’ and ‘bones that needed strengthening’, it was my husband and I, in this moment.  The Lord’s timely words rushed over and seeped into all my parched places ‘like a spring whose waters do not fail’!  My strength was truly, renewed hearing Him whisper to my heart, ‘you will rebuild the ancient ruins’ (the swing set); and ‘raise up and restore the age-old foundations’ (the fort). I felt both seen and treasured by this One Who cared enough for me to step into my earthly mess and so gently, renew my resolve to persevere and to honor the crucial roles Jim and I placed upon ourselves to finish for our grandchildren. Only now, we would be tackling our own ancient ruins in God’s strength… as His repairer and His restorer!  

Though the unbearable heat didn’t change that day, and the heavy workload even increased, my heart and soul remained refreshed by both the Presence and the Love of the Lord I’d experienced in those few moments.  I couldn’t have asked for more!  And yet, when I raised my head up from that passage in Isaiah, my eyes fell upon a tiny, pink heart laying against the blackness of the table in front of me.  Now…what are the odds of those two pink petals drifting down from the potted, Impatiens plant above it; to form that perfect, pink heart? Even the eyes of a little ceramic frog, hanging off of the flowerpot, were pointed heavenward! My eyes, too, could only see this tiny miracle for what it was.  A tiny pink heart, Divinely placed there for such a need as this. My heart could only respond to its beautiful message in one way.  Smiling, I uttered softly, “Thank you, Lord… I love You, too.”

Each of us has a tendency to focus so intensely on the circumstances gripping us; we are sometimes blind to what God is doing right in front of our eyes.  You see, God never intends our difficulties and unwanted circumstances to crush us; but to push us closer to Him, to His heart… where we may experience the Love that awaits us there.  When His Presence and Love step down into the details of our life stories, our hearts discover joy and renewed strength, peace, and confidence, even during the hardest of times. For it is our hardest times that become the soils where God’s miracles grow best.  The perfect place for our hearts to witness His Hand turning our “scorched places” into His “watered gardens.”

“My [child], give me your heart and

let your eyes delight in My Ways.”

(Proverbs 23:26)

Dearest Lord and Sustainer of Life, Your Word reminds my heart that “You lavish Your unfailing Love for a thousand generations, on those who love You and obey your commands” (Exodus 20:6).  Your Love for Your children continues to astound me over and over again. It is vast and deep and wide and to be treasured like no other.  Yet, we are so often blind to Your Presence and Your Love in our lives. We too often forget that each one of us is Your own Heart’s ‘Labor of Love’ from our first breath to our last.  Forgive us!  Strengthen us in all our pursuits and difficulties.  We invite you to step down into the details of our stories and help us to see Your Presence and Love at work in all our circumstances.  Wash our eyes with Your Tenderness so that we might see You in a whole new way.  For You are the only One Who can take our “scorched and dry places” and turn them into “watered gardens.” 

In Jesus’ Glorious Name we pray…AMEN