“And fasten your

thoughts

on every glorious

work of God,

praising Him

always!”

(Phil. 4:8b-9 TPT)

“Device-ive Living”

by Debbie Allen

In this day and age, we don’t have to look too far to see that we are living in a divided nation. Once, we proclaimed the beauty of the freedom we walked-in, our hearts acknowledging God’s Truths and His Glory in the ways we lived-out our lives in our homes, as well as how we walked and talked before others, including our God in Heaven. We knew and understood the depth of what it means to stand united as, “One Nation under God, indivisible…with Liberty and Justice for all.”  Now…from sea to shining sea, not only is the Nation of America divided on multiple levels, but we as a people are extremely divided… right down to our hearts, minds, and spirits.

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“Now, from sea to shining sea, not only is the Nation of America divided on multiple levels,

but we as a people are extremely divided… right down to our hearts, minds, and spirits.”

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 God created each of us with the purpose of making a difference in this world.  From birth on, every human being enters into this life fully equipped and divinely wired so that we might touch and change our world and the people around us for good, and in a way that makes God Himself ‘Look Bigger.’ A way that reflects His Truth and Ways back into the world. But as I sat in the car on the way to breakfast one morning, inching along in the heavy traffic on a busy highway… I saw the world’s all-about-me ways in full force all around us.  Road rage, driver’s flipping each other off, horns blaring, cars crossing multiple lanes in spite of double-yellow, warning lines painted on the road; and countless accidents waiting-to-happen due to the carelessness of drivers, whose eyes were more focused on their cell phones than the road up ahead of them. It seemed that the drivers in vehicles all around us had a different set of rules to drive by.  Rules of their own…rules reflecting the exact opposite of what the signs and lines painted all along the highway were guiding them to do.  Common courtesy and common sense were both out the window…and with them, the safety, security, and order that comes with driving down a highway strictly, governed by the rules of the road we were once taught to adhere to…or else suffer the consequences.

There was a period of time in history when people chose to become their own authorities in their lives. Without any regard for the lives and security of those around them, everyone acted according to their own opinions of what was right and wrong. The Bible documents this period of time in the book of Judges:

“There was no king in Israel in those days, and every man did what he thought was right.”

(Judges 21:25 LAB)

The results of living in this time period in Israel ended in unmatched mass chaos…and it would be foolish for us to think it will be any different for those of us living in our own culture.  Too many in this day and age are looking only to satisfy their own selfish agendas for living life…instead of seeking the morals, standards, truths and convictions that God designed and knows will provide for, and sustain us physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually throughout our lives. Well known author and pastor Tony Evans puts it this way:

“The Lord calls people to submit to His Agenda, not to attempt to honor Him with their agendas.”

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“The Lord calls people to submit to His Agenda, not to attempt to honor Him with their agendas.”

–Tony Evans–

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Whatever goals and accomplishments we’ve scribbled down for ourselves on our own human agendas in life…should never supersede the Perfect Agenda of our All-Knowing, All-Loving God…Who, in His Wisdom, created each of us on purpose and with a purpose; already knowing what’s best for us concerning every facet of our lives, and the ways we were designed to live them out before the eyes of a watching-world!

All of us were ‘made in the image of God’…but only those who choose to walk the path of His Grace and Forgiveness, become His children; those He asks to carry His Light (Jesus) out into the ever-growing darkness of this present world. To be His Light Bearer means embracing God’s Wisdom…not our own. To be constantly searching for, inquiring after, and walking-in the ways of unwavering faith; trusting God, no matter what paths He sets before us in life. Leading with a Perfect Heart and Genuine Love, God calls every one of His children to be faithful, obedient followers who trust their Father to lead them into all the right places…and in all the right ways. Throughout our entire lives, God honors this level of whole-hearted trust in Him; with the Promise of His Presence walking beside us… Providing, Guiding, and Protecting us without fail.

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“God Leads with a Perfect Heart and Genuine Love. He calls all His children to be faithful, obedient followers, who trust their Father to lead them into all the right places…and in all the right ways.“

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But…the lawlessness and reckless behavior I observed all along that stretch of highway that morning on the way to breakfast, reflected anything BUT wholehearted trust. We are fast becoming a culture that shuns the very thought of anyone or anything telling us how to live our lives…or even drive our cars. We love the idea of complete independence; and yet, so easily allow our cell phones to imprison our thinking patterns and influence our behavior; every waking moment of the day.  It seems to me our cell phones have become our god…NOT the Living God, but one driven by Artificial Intelligence. Think about it.  Our cell phones are currently one of the greatest obsessions of this age. They allow us a way to connect and communicate to others without being there…to meet face-to-face without being face-to-face. We give and receive hundreds of directives to guide us through our day.  We have come to heavily depend on our devices to help us find our way in this world and to unknown places and limitless destinations, all using Artificial Intelligence to do so. No one dares to make eye contact anymore because all eyes are focused on a scrolling screen. Even our emotions are being replaced by the use of 3,782 man-made emojis available to us now in 2024; instead of enjoying a personal conversation, sharing between hearts through the five senses God originally equipped us with, in order to help us cultivate and deepen the personal relationships we come to know throughout our lives.

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“Our cell phones have become our god…NOT the Living God, but one driven by Artificial Intelligence.”

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Though I know there is an endless amount of good that can also stream from the devices that are such a huge part of our everyday lives…the ways we immerse ourselves in this device-ive lifestyle our culture so intensely embraces; must be entered into with caution and wisdom. God never intended for Google or A.I. to be the all-knowing, ever-present sources we retreat to when we have questions and doubts…or just need to hear another’s voice speak into our life’s circumstances. The sound of God’s own Voice was always meant to fill that void in our lives. I can’t even imagine trading away the gift of being able to hear the Personal and Tender Whispers of my God deep down inside of me…for the man-made, compassion-deprived, robotic sounds of A.I.’s voice passing over my ears. It would be like being offered a huge slice of the deepest, darkest, richest chocolate cake ever made…and then settling instead for a turnip!

My ride to breakfast that morning on that chaotic stretch of highway, still stands out in my mind as a warning. It was a clear indication to my heart of the reality of mounting chaos, blatant lawlessness, and encroaching darkness that is fast consuming us as the divided people and nation we have become. Instead of making God ‘look Bigger’ before others by choosing His Ways, Truths, and Morals for living our lives…our culture is attempting to remove God and His Ways completely from society. Though ridiculous…that thought weighed heavy on me as we exited the highway for breakfast. But not for long. I looked up into that blue October sky to see a gigantuous Cross formed out of a cloud and a jet stream. The beauty of it stretched out over that chaotic highway, presenting itself to me in that moment as God’s timely and very personal Message for a culture so deeply immersed in following its own selfish ways. The Message that came with it was this:

And God said to His people:

“Stand at the crossroads.

Now, consider your ways

And ask for the ancient paths.

Which is God’s way?

Walk on His Path, and you’ll enjoy

A resting place for yourselves…

But they said, ‘WE WILL NOT.

THAT’S NOT THE PATH WE WANT.’”

(Jeremiah 6:16 TPT)

How frightening it is to think that any nation in history would ever speak those last haunting words to the God and Creator of all things! Knowing that history never fails to repeat itself, I pray we choose to seek to become the nation and people who learn to consider our selfish ways…and turn to repent and embrace the Wisdom of our God in our lives and nation before it is too late. Will you pray with me?

HEART TRAPPINGS PRAYER:

Our Father in Heaven… Thank you for Loving all of your creations; both the ‘chocolate cake lovers’ as well as those who ‘settle for turnips’ in this life. Your Cross stood so high in the sky that day to me, like the Hands on a Cosmic Clock…warning us that time is running out in this world. Yet, You will not force anyone to choose Your ‘Ancient Paths’…but for those who do, it’s the difference between spending eternal life with You in Heaven and spending eternal life without You in Hell. The hearts of those who love You are depending on You.  You are everything we need. Help to keep us walking in Your Wisdom, and steadfast in Your Ways. Forgive our sins, as both a people and a nation.  “Love us, God, with all You’ve got—that’s what we’re depending on! For our hearts shall rejoice in You, because we trust in Your Holy Name” (Psalm 33:21-22).

In Jesus Name we pray…AMEN.

“But the Eyes of the Lord

are watching over those

who fear Him, who rely upon

His Steady Love. Only He can

help us; He Protects us like

a Shield.”

(Psalms 33:18, 20b LAB)

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“The Shield Around Me“

by Debbie Allen

Over seven years ago now, God called me into an unexpected and unwanted journey, involving my right eye.  April 16, 2017, marked the day the light went out of that eye, due to a torn and separated retina. Darkness rushed into the place where I’d known only light all of my life. No rhyme… no reason…no warning. I woke up one morning and was helpless to change my circumstances on my own.   The only thing I could see were the Fingerprints of God, all over an unexpected season in my life.  And if I’m honest…every day up until now.

So often in life, I’ve found that God uses the darkness we encounter in our life’s journey to birth something greater in His children. My eye was no exception. As one circumstance led to another, I was being pointed by God, to a Retina Specialist/Surgeon who believed she could put light back into my eye.   Two days after meeting her, she performed major surgery on my eye; restoring the light inside of it…and sending me down a new pathway in my life; one I would never have chosen for myself. A pathway, that only God knew would bring Him more Glory than my former way of seeing things ever could have.

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“God uses the darkness we encounter in our life’s journey

to birth something greater in His children.”

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Once the inside of your eye unravels, even after being repaired, the chances of it unraveling again remain high. This in mind, Dr. Dee felt it necessary to perform an additional major surgery on my eye only a month later; just to be on the safe side.  She placed what is known as a buckle, or a shield, around the entire outside of my eyeball. This shield holds my retina firmly in place.  It’s my added protection against having to live in darkness again.  It helps to keep everything from coming apart…including me. 

Spiritually, I believe that the shield around my eye also speaks of an even Greater Shield surrounding my entire life. The physical shield protecting my eye, is my ever-present daily reminder to my heart of the Lord…Whose Everlasting Arms are wrapped tight around me…holding me, keeping me from coming apart at the seams even when things look their darkest. Through all the wavering high and low pressures continuously plaguing my eye; and the rigorous mountains and valleys I’ve walked through in my life over these last seven years now; only once did the enemy’s intrusive whispers cause me to question or doubt the strength of the physical shield placed around my eye…or the trustworthiness of my Faithful God. God continues to tell me over and over again in His Word: “I am your Protecting Shield.” (Deuteronomy 33:27a NLT). I believe this truth with all my heart. Even so…one day recently, something changed inside my eye again.

A seven- year struggle to regulate high pressure in my eye suddenly reversed. Now the pressure in my right eye was so low it was no longer measurable. No pressure in my eye; brought with it, not darkness, but a dusk-level of dim light to try and see my world through. On top of this, Dr. Dee reversed a decision that she’d “…done every surgery on my eye that she could do.” Unable to visibly detect what was wrong with my eye; she now stood in front of me saying, “I’m going to have to do exploratory surgery on your eye.”  She speculated that “the shield around my eye was broken, might need to be removed, or had a hole in it, and was pressing down into the white part of my eye causing an abrasion, leakage of fluid, and infection.”  Watching me squirm in my chair at the thought of what just transpired, Dr. Dee put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. She looked me square in the eye, and told me straightforward, “This is something new with your eye…we are on a new journey now!”  Leaving the exam room that day, Dr. Dee’s last words still echoed in my thoughts.  Though she intended that little word ‘we’ as a reference to ‘her and I’…deep inside of me I already knew that it was God who was telling my heart personally that He and I… ‘We’ are on a New Journey now!”

I felt a little like the ancient Israelites, who had only a moment’s notice to pack-up all their things to journey across the desert whenever they saw God (in the form of a Pillar of Cloud) moving ahead of them; leading them towards their next unknown destination. Two days later, I packed-up all my things and followed God’s lead to the Surgical Center for another major eye surgery. Like the Israelites, I’d learned one step at a time, that I could trust God fully with my life…even when being led to unknown places.

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“Let the dawning day bring me revelation of Your Tender, Unfailing Love.”

(Psalms 143:8 TPT)

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The day of surgery, my husband and I left the house just as the sun was coming up.  In the first light of the day, I felt God reminding me of His Presence going before me; especially when we passed a giant billboard beside the highway, displaying a giant JESUS all across it. My heart had to smile! For the verse I read in my Bible before we even left the house was this:

“Let the dawning day bring me revelation of Your Tender, Unfailing Love” (Psalms 143:8).

Just an accident? Maybe a coincidence? Not a chance!  When I was being prepped for surgery, the nurse who was assigned to me, entered the room like warm sunshine. Brimming from ear to ear, she introduced herself as being “the one who would be taking good care of me’, and assured me, ‘I was in good hands.’ But when she revealed to me that her name was, ‘Dawn,’ and told me “I’ll be praying for you!” as they wheeled me out for surgery…I knew God was just showing me once more, that He really was Present and going before me in this new journey. By the light of two ‘Dawns’ I encountered in this one morning…I believe my God was actively revealing ‘His Tender, Unfailing Love’ to my heart, in His Own undeniable and miraculous ways!

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“As we trust, we rejoice with an uncontained joy flowing from YAHWEH!”

(Psalm 33:21 TPT)

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On this side of another major surgery again, I can tell you that Dr. Dee did find a small tear in the white part of my eye and successfully repaired it.  The hole was on the backside of my eye just beyond the shield…so I emerged from the surgery with my eye’s shield still fully intact!  Why is that so important to me?  Over the past seven years, that shield has become for my heart, a tangible reminder of God’s Presence and Protection in my life.  Though it can’t be seen when you look at me, I know it’s a very real presence inside of me, and it surrounds my eye, securely holding things together that might otherwise fall apart.

On a grander scale, life itself is a lot like that unpredictable, right eye of mine. At any given moment it has the potential of coming apart at the seams when we least expect it.  Suddenly, and without warning, our whole life can shift and fall apart. A health crisis, strained relationships, an unexpected death, to mental and emotional trauma or anxiety and depression…and the list goes on.  Yes, there are doctors, counselors, pastors; and even friends and family available to us that can help ‘put’ us back together.  But much like my eye after the first surgery; the risk of falling apart again remains high unless something more permanent is done.  Humanity’s hands are capable of working small miracles when it comes to ‘putting us back together’, but God’s Hands are the only Hands truly capable of ‘holding us together,’ and ‘keeping us from falling apart.’ when seasons of struggle or life-altering circumstances descend upon us.

One of the greatest life-lessons God has taught me through my own personal encounters with blindness, and all the other unimaginable traumas that followed concerning my right eye, is that God Himself is our life’s Shield, wrapped-around all of our life’s broken pieces.  He’s the Ever-Present Help our spirits cry out for in our deepest, darkest times of need. Never will He ever fail to supply us with the abundant Grace needed to empower our hearts to keep moving forward and keep following our God…even when He’s leading us on a journey through the desert… to unknown places. Keep holding onto Him…knowing without a doubt…He’s Holding onto you. He is the Ever-Present Shield surrounding us in life; giving us the hope that the eyes of our frail hearts need to see more clearly: “ALL things really do HOLD TOGETHER IN HIM” (Colossians 1:17).

Oh Lord…You are the One Who Heals our blindness in this life. You are also our Greatest Remedy for the loss of vision and darkness that continues to plague our world, when it comes to seeing the Truth and Glory of Your Presence all around us.  You remain Faithful to Care for your children even in all our darkness; never leaving us to journey alone in the desert places we are called to face in this life. Please… Pour Your Light into our deepest darkness. Give us peace where worry and brokenness prevail. Allow us joy even though pain overtakes us. Grant us Your Strength to endure and grow from every journey You pre-destined us to walk beside You on, even in desert places. “You alone, Lord… are our Radiant Hope, and we trust in You with all of our heart. May “Your Wraparound Presence (Shield) will Strengthen us” (Ps. 33:20 TPT). 
“When we live our lives in the Shadow of God Most High, our Secret Hiding Place, we will always be shielded from harm.”
(Psalm 91:9 TPT)

In Jesus Name we pray, AMEN.

  

“The beauty of the rose

lasts for a moment

but its memory can

last for a lifetime!

–unknown–

A Trail of Roses…

by Debbie Allen

Ever since I can remember, my heart has always been drawn to roses. Perhaps this fascination stems from my mother having shared with me as a child, that a vase of pink roses was the very first gift I ever received; after she brought me into this world. As a little girl, mom further cemented in my mind just how special roses are; the day she took me by the hand and showed me a couple of those same little rosebuds from the hospital; still pressed between two pages in my baby book.  Though much too fragile for me to touch, just seeing a lock of my baby hair taped beside its faded, pink petals stirred something inside my heart that day…something I wouldn’t understand or even be aware of until decades later.

That stirring process deepened every time my grandma asked me to work alongside her in her rose garden.  One day after she and I finished trimming-up all of her rose bushes, she stood watching me struggle to arrange a few loose pink buds and roses in a vase on her kitchen table. Questioning my own 7-year-old flower arranging skills, I turned and asked her, “Grandma, does this look ok?”

Without hesitation, she stooped down, pulling my face into hers; and with the world’s biggest grin, she responded, “They are just like you, my little Rosebud…perfect and beautiful!”  Standing there blushing, all I could think to do in that moment was to hug…hug…hug her; for even at the tender age of seven, I’d come to know and understand just how treasured a little rosebud could be in this world; and now I’d become one of them!

Though my grandma has long-since passed away, her endearing nickname for me remains a precious gift to my heart. Even today, when I’m working out in my own rose garden; I still hear the faint whispers of her voice calling me her little “Rosebud.”  That memory continues to warm my heart.  It was no accident that day when God allowed the nickname, “Rosebud” to fall from my grandma’s lips down into my heart.  I believe my Creator…the One Who ordered all the steps of my life and wrote them each down in His Book; already knew my life was destined to be repeatedly shaped and defined by the rose over and over again.

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The Rose exposes in its own beautiful ways; the tenderness of God’s Love for us.

“…the earth is filled with His tender Love.”

Psalms 33:5b lab

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Glancing back over my life since that time, it’s not hard for me to see that a growing trail of roses has been gathering behind me since birth. Not only were there my birthdays, holidays, school dances…my piano recitals, baptism, and graduation; but dating, love, marriage, and eventually the joyous births of my own three boys. Even with all of these, there were still countless other significant events and seasons in my life from childhood on; all marked somehow by the presence and beauty of roses.

  In more recent years, the rose itself even became the defining moment of my life! By the time I reached 60-years-old, the thought of getting a tattoo began resonating in my head. This was anything but a typical direction for me to be thinking in. I was more a tea-and-roses sort of girl…not an ink-and-tatts rebel.  But, with much prayer, God inspired me to blend these two opposing ideas together beautifully. I designed a wrist tattoo of a little pink rose; bearing the words “I AM His…” and the numbers “1:17” inscribed above it. My desire was two-fold. I wanted first, to convey to the world around me that “I am a child of God’s.”  The number’s 1:17 are significant because they represent my life’s chosen verse: Colossians 1:17, which reminds my heart daily of this truth: “All things hold together in Him.”

For the next three years after this, every morning when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was that pink rose tattooed on my wrist.  It became for me an ever-present reminder to my heart, that I am precious and chosen by God…and that whatever else my day might hold; my God would hold me together no… matter… what. I believed these words with all my heart; or so I thought.  Then, one Saturday morning, I woke up half-blind in my right eye without warning. By the end of the next day, Easter Sunday, my vision was gone in that eye!  By the time I woke up on Monday morning, even focusing both eyes on my rose tattoo; I could only see half of the rose, and just two of the three words visible above it.  I whispered those two words softly to myself, “I AM.”  Though terrified by the thought of what was happening to my vision, I recognized there was something even more profound transpiring with my perspective.  Seeing ‘I AM’ standing alone and knowing it to be the Name of God; I began to see it differently, in my unexpected darkness. This was God’s Signature across my life in this moment. His lavish way of deepening me to the reality and intensity of what it is to bear His Name on my wrist; and to be called ‘His’.  I believed my Father was deepening me… telling His child, in this unwanted, unfathomable, and deeply personal way:

“Trust in Who ‘I AM’, and rely on Me,”

“I AM” … there were those words again. The words tattooed only skin-deep across my wrist for the last three years, were now descending deeper into the depths of my heart; spoken and planted there by my Father.  There was no question what my part was to be in this unwanted story. My role was to ‘trust and rely’ on the One Who “holds all things together” …including me.

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“If you are walking in darkness, without one ray of light,

trust in the Lord and rely on your God.”

Isaiah 50:10 ESV

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Seven years and three major eye surgeries later now, this child of His can tell you with all of her heart, that My Father did indeed, ‘hold me together’. Not only physically and emotionally…but spiritually, too. When the retina inside my eye unraveled that day…in my human frailty, I could’ve followed suit.  But my God, Whose Purposes far exceeded mine, chose to use my blindness to help me see Him more clearly.  Ironic as this sounds, the little pink rose on my wrist, the one I had tattooed there to draw the world’s attention to me, and my relationship with my God; was never intended by God to point me out to anyone. Only to point me back to Him…the Great “I AM.” The One and Only Answer to all… that I am not.

Too often, most of us don’t take time to recognize some of the most significant moments of our lives. Those Divinely timed moments are meant to help define and shape us into who God designed us to be.  For me, those significant moments came in the form of a trail of roses winding behind me throughout my entire life. I’ve learned to see this winding trail of roses in my heart, as God wrapping His Grace around me in every stage and changing season of my life. Now, as I look back over the memories of the roses planted there, I see roses that taught me how treasured a little ‘Rosebud’ could be in this life. I still hear my grandma’s whispers here. But now I know that even her whispers were meant to point my heart towards a Love much greater than even my grandma’s. They were pointing me to the God Who Loves me and calls me His Own.

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“Roses don’t just talk about God’s Beauty…they show it!”

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Every rose is somehow a reflection of God’s Love. Looking back over my own trail of roses, I see evidence of God’s Grace at every twist and turn. There are reflections of peace and love, joy and celebration, growth and flourishing, passion and gratitude, wonder and awe, and beauty unspeakable.  But… like the rose itself, there are thorns there, too.   Portions of my trail were darkened at times, by unwanted trauma and despair, sorrow and fear, pain and disappointment, sickness, and even death. In these places, I cried out more than once, “No rose could ever survive here!”

 But by the time I reached the other side of those thorns; I discovered I was wrong. Every time I dared to turn and look a little deeper at those thorns… I saw the most beautiful Rose ever… planted right in the midst of what my own heart deemed too broken, and too barren to sustain life.  It was the Rose of Sharon…Jesus, Himself! He was the Beauty in these despairing places.  His Beauty and His Presence were planted there to bring me rescue, redemption, and restoration.  Given the choice, I would’ve bypassed these thorny places; yet… at the same time, my spirit was strangely drawn here by the Presence of this Rose of Sharon, time and time again.  Though weariness often prevented me from seeing thorny places as anything but shadows and brokenness… my surrendered heart soon taught me to perceive them as the Sacred Place He’d chosen to shed His Light into my darkness. To kneel beside Him in these unwanted places is where I saw my faith was expanded and my Hope enlarged. Here…I experienced an undeserved exchange.  I received His Joy for all my tears… and His Wholeness for all my broken pieces.  

Every rose planted along this Grace-Laced, trail of roses still growing behind me; has somehow brought me closer to His Heart. But it’s my Rose of Sharon I still cling to the tightest.  His Beauty and Presence always come with the Promise of life and new beginnings; especially when we are called to walk in thorny places. Jesus is the One Whose timely Whispers brush up against His rosebuds in earthly gardens, and their tender petals begin to unfold, grow, and finally bloom in full. Likewise…the only Hope any ‘Rosebud’ on earth has of finding life, maturing, and flourishing in this world; lies in hearing and responding to the Tender Rushes of His Whispers against the petals of our own hearts.  For His Whispers are His Beautiful reminders of just how treasured a little ‘Rosebud’ can be in this world…and in the next!

“God will always guide you where to go and what to do.

He will fill you with refreshment even when you are in a dry and difficult place.

 He will continually restore strength to you, so you will flourish like a well-watered garden…”

–Isaiah 55:11 TPT–

Father in Heaven, thank you for filling this earth and our hearts with the Tenderness and Beauty of Your Great Love! Help us, Lord, to live making every day our love-gift back to You! You’ve spoken every day since I was born, through the Rose to my own heart. You taught me how treasured a Rosebud can be in this life. Through my own trail of roses…You’ve wrapped all the times and seasons of my life in Your Grace. Youve spoken to my heart of Beauty and Pain…Petals and Thorns…and of Sunshine and Shadow. You are in every season you call Your children to walk through. May we not just see thorns in the hard times; but dare to look deeper and see our own ‘ Rose of Sharon’ planted there in the midst of our brokenness. And like the Rose…enable us to hear and then respond to the brushes of Your Whispers against the petals of our own hearts; so that we may find at the end of all the thorns, we too, have blossomed and bloomed for Your Glory!

IN JESUS NAME WE PRAY…AMEN

“Autumn shows us

how beautiful it is

to let things go.”

–unknown–

The Whispers of Fall

by Debbie Allen

I once heard it said, “The only constant in life is change.” If ever there was a season in life that typified this truth, it is the season of autumn.  I’ve always loved it!  At the first sign of it, my heart begins to yearn for another glimpse of the indescribable colors God paints in broad strokes, all across the face of the Rocky Mountains.  Sometimes, as I look at those glory-splashed hillsides I feel as though I’m seeing a combination of hues taken from God’s Own Divine Palette that may never be there again! That’s when I can hear the Artist Himself whispering down into my spirit, “For your eyes only….my child!”  What a privilege it is as His child, to bear witness to this limited-edition beauty of God’s Handiwork.  His Hand-Painted Masterpieces brushed onto the mountainsides of my own world! Who wouldn’t want to glimpse such splendor?   It’s the very reason my husband and I faithfully embark on our mountain drives every fall season. In all the years we’ve been going on these fall excursions, my heart has only been disappointed once…and it taught me something my heart will never forget.

You see, I have a tendency to set myself up for disappointment by assuming things are going to be the same as they’ve always been.  A few years ago, when the fall season descended on me, my spirit was particularly thirsty for a glimpse of those glory-splashed mountainsides.   I’d undergone several surgeries on my right eye for a detached retina and for most of that particular summer, I was restricted from any sort of mountain drives, due to the pressure change it placed on my healing eye. When that constraint was finally lifted by my doctor, both my heart and my eye leaped for joy!  Jim and I climbed into the car and headed straight for Squaw Pass; a favorite mountain retreat from which we love to view the Aspens.  A recent summers-worth of hardship behind us now, I fully expected a show of glory-splashed hillsides like no other. But as we rounded each curve, near-empty aspen branches already shivered in an early fall breeze.  The entire forest echoed with the crunch of coffee-brown leaves being scattered all across the forest floor.  These were not the colors I’d expected from the Artist’s Palette.  Only once did we spot an aspen tree with golden leaves still clinging to it. Though I understood that this scenery, too, was the Handiwork of God’s Brush, it was hard to picture this one splotch of gold standing in the midst of a mountainside full of barren branches as being the feast my eyes and heart came to devour.  Worse than this, an unanticipated silence reigned in my soul because of it.  To me…it seemed that the only thing highlighted in this particular day’s scenery was disappointment.

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“Like Autumn leaves…we fade, wither, and fall.”

(Isaiah 64:6)

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The following morning, I headed for my parent’s house to help care for my 83-year-old Dad, still recuperating from surgery.  As I walked through his front yard, the sound of my feet crunching in ankle-deep, fallen leaves shifted my focus back to yesterday’s disappointment. Though I was standing in a different corner of my world; the scenery surrounding me was strikingly similar to the mountain drive we’d taken the day before. Barren branches, broken limbs, and a sea of lifeless, mushroom-colored leaves, yielding one last time to the chilly, autumn breeze.  Had it not been for a single, burgundy, maple leaf that wafted down from a neighbor’s tree and came to rest in the middle of this sea-of-sameness; this landscape, too, was void of any color at all.  I stood there not quite sure of how to react to another of Heaven’s one-splotch-of-color Masterpieces.  In response, my beauty-starved spirit prompted me to pull out my phone and snap a picture of that single burgundy, maple leaf. And for the second time this autumn season, I left that scene in silent disappointment.  Thankfully… the story didn’t end here.

That same evening, I sat at my desk reading a passage from Philippians 4:

“Be cheerful with joyous celebration in every season of life.” (vs. 4)

“Fasten your thoughts on every glorious work of God, praising Him always.” (vs.8b)

These words spoke directly to my heart that night. In the silence of the next few seconds, I pulled out my cell phone and glanced again at the picture I’d snapped earlier…the one I’d deemed anything but beautiful.  That’s when I heard the Whispers of the Artist Himself speaking again, “For your eyes only…my child.”  Though His words had made perfect sense on all our drives through glorious, color-splashed mountainsides, I struggled now to understand them in the context of His one-splotch Masterpieces.” Before I could utter even one question back to God, He was already gently, reminding my heart of this, “I am here, too.” 

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“Beauty still resides even in the midst of this world’s barrenness.”

–D. Allen–
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His last four words impacted me in a way I will never forget. Nor will I ever look at the gift of God’s one-splotch Masterpieces quite the same. In reality, His words were His Signature on both of them. As my husband and I drove by those barren hillsides that fall day; we missed the true Beauty of that One-splotch of Gold we did see.  In our disappointment, we also missed seeing the message that every aspen tree’s barren branches were pointing our hearts towards: Beauty still resides even in the midst of all this world’s barrenness.  

Sometimes the things that we deem as ‘anything but beautiful’ in this life… are anything but what we deem them to be. God’s Perspective is as far removed from ours, as His Ways are higher than our own. Even so…just how often are we intentionally looking for Him in the circumstances of our seasons? Many times, I’ve regretted not having looked deeper at my surroundings that day while I stood in my dad’s front yard, ankle deep in lifeless leaves and broken branches. Had I done so, I may have seen it more as the timely Masterpiece God wanted me to see all along. I would’ve seen His Signature scrawled across that single, burgundy leaf, and I would’ve known that He placed it there as a reminder to my fragile heart in its own season of struggle, of this Beautiful Truth…  “I Am here, too.”  Here in your barrenness.  Here in your brokenness. And here, standing before you as your Greatest Hope in the midst of all this world’s hopeless-ness.

“Fasten your thoughts on every glorious work of God, praising Him always.”

(Philippians 4:8b TPT)

Dearest Father, help us to see the beauty you are continually painting onto the mountainsides of our own seasons in life.  Open our physical and spiritual eyes to see the Beauty in both the Glory-splashed, Hand-Painted Masterpieces you set before us…as well as those one-splotch works of art that our frail hearts tend to question so frequently. Whatever season we find ourselves standing in…may we cry out in the words of King Asaph, “How we thank you, Lord!  Your mighty miracles give us proof that YOU CARE.” (Psalm 75:1) Teach us to look for Your Signature…especially in our brokenness. You are our only Hope in the hopelessness that surrounds us in this life.

In Jesus Name…AMEN

“God has a bigger vision for

our friendships than we can

ever begin to understand.”

–Angela Sackett –

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The Glory of Friendship

by Debbie Allen

There is a divine beauty to be found in that moment when we first discover the gift of friendship has come our way in life. Instantly, two hearts can feel at home in each other’s presence. Even though they may have just met, they already feel like old friends. Ralph Waldo Emerson put this another way: “The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, not the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when you discover that someone else believes in you and is willing to trust you with a friendship.”

Nearly a lifetime ago now, just such a friend stepped into my life. The first few moments of what was to become a life-long friendship, began in the hallway of the Baptist Church we attended with our families.   My best friend, whose name was also Debbie, and I were both young mothers still in our twenties, at the time.  After church one Sunday, Debbie and I decided just a smile-in-passing wasn’t enough anymore, so we stopped to chat face-to-face. Conversation flowed comfortably between us from the beginning. The only thing that was uncomfortable as we stood across from each other that day in the hallway was me. I couldn’t imagine Debbie seeing me as anything but a giant olive standing on two toothpicks! You see, I was v-e-r-y pregnant with my youngest son at the time. Of course, that was anything but true from Debbie’s perspective! She eventually shared with me that what she’d really seen that day when she looked across at me was… ‘the friend she’d been praying for so long for God to bring into her life.’

 You can imagine how very humbled this ‘olive standing on two toothpicks’ felt in that moment! SO humbled…but at the same time SO very grateful; for I, too, received a gift that day! The gift of true friendship which I still treasure, now over forty years later!

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“A friend loves at all times.”

Proverbs 17:17

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Debbie’s always been a true friend to me; the kind of friend whose footprints will remain imprinted in my heart for all eternity.  She and I have shared so many precious times together. At one point, we were seen so often together, we were dubbed by others as, “The Debbies”. Our response? “Two-gether is always better!” No one ever argued the truth of that!

Whether Debbie and I were away on a church women’s retreat, sharing coffee and chat at our favorite Starbucks, or sipping on a glass of cabernet while doing crafts in her basement, the camaraderie only grew sweeter and the friendship deeper because of those times we chose to pass sitting in each other’s presence.  Eventually, our friendship expanded to include our husbands and children.  In our younger years, our families camped, hiked and canoed together, times too numerous to count.  Debbie and I still reminisce fondly over all the memorable weekend getaways she and I planned and spent with our Hubbies.  There were also the seasonal concerts we attended, and the family sleepovers we participated in on New Year’s Eve for many years. Such occasions provided us the perfect back drop for engaging in an all-night game of Pinochle or Texas Hold ’em! And last but not least…there were the good old days of the Backyard BBQ’s and Bubinga Nights that will never be forgotten! Bubinga was a very special telescope Debbie’s husband, Bruce, designed and built by hand. He spent so many hours and such late nights working beside Bubinga; that Debbie came to refer to this ‘thing of great beauty’ as ‘the mistress.’ Of course…we all understood Debbie was just kidding. And yet… somehow Bubinga ended up in pieces; stashed between the bedroom closet and the farthest corner of the garage.  Perhaps Bubinga’s silent message to the world in all of this is, ‘Some friendships are meant to be, and some are not. LOL!

In all seriousness, friendship is not to be taken lightly in this life.  All friendships are built on a certain level of love, devotion and trust, but I consider Debbie and I’s friendship unique, in that it was also founded on the wings of prayer. God was and still is at the heart of our friendship. Because of that, the time we share together…whether in seasons of great blessing or in great sorrow, the bond of friendship is both deepened and heightened by God’s Greater Love present between us.

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“A sweet friendship refreshes the soul.”

Proverbs 7:9

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Finding a true friend who’s willing to take time out of their own life, to strengthen you with their presence and prayers, bless you with their love and devotion, and faithfully, encourage your heart with fresh hope and inspiration; is a rare and beautiful gift. Ecclesiastes 6:14 speaks of such a friend as being “a great treasure.”

 Through this legacy of friendship Debbie and I have shared down through the years, God has taught me that true friendship magnifies God’s Heart in so many ways. Friendship is about just ‘being with’ someone who allows you to be yourself in their presence; and they love you anyway. Over time, they become our most trusted confidants, and the prayer warriors our hearts can count on, to drop to their knees at a moment’s notice and struggle alongside of us in every season and through every storm of our life. We always have the freedom to laugh or cry and sometimes both, in the trusted presence of a true friend. Friends are always a phone call or text away, and never fail to step in and act as the timely voice of wisdom when our hearts are hurting the most.

Even as I write these words, I can’t help but see the Goodness of God’s Heart woven throughout the gift of True Friendship.  Every aspect of it points us to God’s Unconditional Love and His Abundant Grace. If I look a little deeper, I see the glory of friendship as two-fold. From my own experience I’ve come to look upon this gift as both a rare treasure and a great reward.

 A rare treasure, in that as we walk side by side in a true friendship before others, we become God’s earthly reminders to a hurting world that we don’t have to walk through life alone. There is Someone Who Loves us for who we are, no matter what. 

God also intended the gift of friends to be a great reward to you. When you feel the warmth of a friend’s arms around your shoulders, hear the voice of encouragement in your ears, or sense the strength that rises when a friend comes alongside you in your pain; your heart can know without doubt… that it is the very Presence of God Loving you through the gift of that friend He gave to you!  And that has to be the Greatest Reward that any true friend could ever receive on earth!

“The Faithfulness of God’s Love is the very Source of Love

that sustains and nourishes every true friendship.”

–D. Allen–

Dearest Lord, the treasure of true friendship on this earth is one of Your greatest gifts to us. Please help us to walk wisely within them, and to see friendships as the blessings you meant them to be to us. Thank you for the joy they bring us, for the prayers they pray with us, for the shelters they become to us, and for the encouragement they offer our hearts in every season. I praise You Jesus, for being our Greatest Friend in this life; and for the Faithfulness of Your Love, which is the very Source of Love that sustains and nourishes our truest friendships on earth. May our friendships continue pointing others to the One Who Loves them most in this broken world we live in. Your Friendship is our Greatest Treasure and our Highest Reward both now and forevermore! In Jesus Name…Amen

“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

“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.”

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 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!