This poem was published in our Sunday morning bulletin - perhaps its sentiments will make us be more sensitive to the lonely in our midst:
Loneliness is like a piano without keys,
Like a violin without strings,
Like a sanctuary without a congregation
Or a choir where no one sings.
Loneliness is like a blade of grass
Growing through a crack in cement.
Loneliness is like a camp ground
Without a single tent.
Loneliness is like a mocking bird
That cannot sing a song.
Loneliness is a feeling
That one does not belong,
Like a pansy in a corn field
Hidden where no one can see.
I know all there is to know about loneliness
Because it lives inside of me. -Unknown
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
The Man of My Dreams
I want to share someone else's Encounter with God with you today - one of those special persons who is very dear to my heart.
I grew up in a world where honesty was relative - relative to how you were feeling at the moment, or relative to each situation. I learned that I could get what I wanted many times by "bending the truth": by leading people to believe certain things about me that were not true. I so wanted to control the perception of others toward me; I longed for them to love me and to rescue me from what I considered an awful existence.
Because I was the oldest child, I had quite a few responsibilities, one of which was taking care of my younger siblings until my mom got home from work. During those years, I remember craving more one-on-one time with my mother - more attention from her in general. Soon I found that if I made up things, she noticed me!
I began with small untruths, but the stories grew as I matured. By the time I was in high school I really had mastered the art of deception. It was as natural to me as breathing.
The day I turned 18 I acquired a boyfriend (ten years older) who believed all the nonsense I told him about my life and family. I concocted tales that I thought would make him continue to love me - after all, I thought, there's no way he would love the real me - who on earth could? I was an awful person. I dreamed of him as my knight in shining armor, galloping in on a white horse to save the day ... by taking me to his castle far, far away from my real life.
A few years later God got ahold of me and I became a Christian. Still, something was missing. I thought, "These church people are great, but if they got to know the real me they would not want me around." So I continued to search for the man who would fix everything - my functional savior.
One day I was reading my Bible and came across scriptures about Jesus standing at the door, and about God giving me the desires of my heart. They only made me angry. “I’ve committed my life to you” (but not completely) “and you are not giving me the desire of my heart. Why, God? Why?”
Since God really speaks to me through songs, I cried out in my anger and sadness, writing a song to him filled with my frustrations:
Who am I waiting for, and who am I searching for?
Who’s the one to come to fill my needs?
Who am I waiting for and who should be at my door?
Where is the man of my dreams?
I’ve been letting you lead my life
From every thought to every deed,
Now I ask you, Father, can you please tell me
Is there someone out there for me?
I wrote the song in my journal, and would cry often about how God must not love me – he must know the real me. If he really loved me, he would give me what I want when I want it. I would like to say that only seconds passed before I realized how foolish that belief was, but it was over a year.
By this time I was no longer dating, and had begun pouring myself into God’s word. Then one day as I read, God beautifully finished my song:
Quietly I sit reading your word,
I know you can hear me.
And finally, today,
Deep in my heart I can hear you whisper and say:
“My child,
I am the One you’re waiting for; I am the One you’re searching for,
I am the One who died to meet your needs,
I am the One you’re waiting for,
I am standing at your door,
I AM the Man of your dreams.”
I finally got it! And I finally received what I longed for so much – One who would come and rescue me! I had been too consumed with ME to see him.
Two years later God brought a man into my life who loved the Lord just as much as I did, and, who loved the REAL me. So I married him.
I grew up in a world where honesty was relative - relative to how you were feeling at the moment, or relative to each situation. I learned that I could get what I wanted many times by "bending the truth": by leading people to believe certain things about me that were not true. I so wanted to control the perception of others toward me; I longed for them to love me and to rescue me from what I considered an awful existence.
Because I was the oldest child, I had quite a few responsibilities, one of which was taking care of my younger siblings until my mom got home from work. During those years, I remember craving more one-on-one time with my mother - more attention from her in general. Soon I found that if I made up things, she noticed me!
I began with small untruths, but the stories grew as I matured. By the time I was in high school I really had mastered the art of deception. It was as natural to me as breathing.
The day I turned 18 I acquired a boyfriend (ten years older) who believed all the nonsense I told him about my life and family. I concocted tales that I thought would make him continue to love me - after all, I thought, there's no way he would love the real me - who on earth could? I was an awful person. I dreamed of him as my knight in shining armor, galloping in on a white horse to save the day ... by taking me to his castle far, far away from my real life.
A few years later God got ahold of me and I became a Christian. Still, something was missing. I thought, "These church people are great, but if they got to know the real me they would not want me around." So I continued to search for the man who would fix everything - my functional savior.
One day I was reading my Bible and came across scriptures about Jesus standing at the door, and about God giving me the desires of my heart. They only made me angry. “I’ve committed my life to you” (but not completely) “and you are not giving me the desire of my heart. Why, God? Why?”
Since God really speaks to me through songs, I cried out in my anger and sadness, writing a song to him filled with my frustrations:
Who am I waiting for, and who am I searching for?
Who’s the one to come to fill my needs?
Who am I waiting for and who should be at my door?
Where is the man of my dreams?
I’ve been letting you lead my life
From every thought to every deed,
Now I ask you, Father, can you please tell me
Is there someone out there for me?
I wrote the song in my journal, and would cry often about how God must not love me – he must know the real me. If he really loved me, he would give me what I want when I want it. I would like to say that only seconds passed before I realized how foolish that belief was, but it was over a year.
By this time I was no longer dating, and had begun pouring myself into God’s word. Then one day as I read, God beautifully finished my song:
Quietly I sit reading your word,
I know you can hear me.
And finally, today,
Deep in my heart I can hear you whisper and say:
“My child,
I am the One you’re waiting for; I am the One you’re searching for,
I am the One who died to meet your needs,
I am the One you’re waiting for,
I am standing at your door,
I AM the Man of your dreams.”
I finally got it! And I finally received what I longed for so much – One who would come and rescue me! I had been too consumed with ME to see him.
Two years later God brought a man into my life who loved the Lord just as much as I did, and, who loved the REAL me. So I married him.
Monday, January 3, 2011
HHIEGT?
I want to borrow someone else’s Encounter with God - it will lift your spirit!
A couple and their helpers traveled to Mississippi and set up their large fireworks tent for holiday revelers several miles from Jackson. Several competitors’ tents also dotted the lot, each of varying sizes. This husband and wife speculated that afternoon about everyday matters: the amount of money they would take home from the stacks of Roman candles, rockets, plain old firecrackers, sparklers, and other novelty items, if they would make enough to pay the helpers well, and noted the number of cars clustered around the other tents comparing them with the number who had chosen their wares. They didn’t suspect they would encounter the Lord and his mercy in such a spectacular way on this Mississippi afternoon.
As they and their workers tended to business, a fearsome tornado roared down upon them! They fled the tent, all five of their little group, jumping into a pick-up truck; the wife curled in the floor of the vehicle, arms cradling her belly, trying to protect the child within her.
The storm picked up the canvas tent as we might snatch up a dish cloth, and tangled it in a power line. One bundle of fireworks sped through the air past the frightened crew in the truck (every one of whom was praying aloud); all watched the storm grab $50,000 worth of fireworks and hurl them into the skies - to vanish. Even if they’d been concerned anymore about being bested in sales, it was a moot point. No tents remained to compete.
The truck and its occupants were unhurt.
As they crawled from the truck cab, the thoughts they’d entertained earlier had vanished like the fireworks and the tornado. No longer were they concerned about whether their supply of pyrotechnics would sell and how many would sell, and how much profit they’d take home. Only praises for their God filled them!
Later they returned to the motel to find another blessing: a generator to power lights and other conveniences. But the best was yet to come.
A man with a saxophone appeared in the midst of the devastation, and proceeded to play How Great Thou Art. The husband, in relating the story later, proclaimed it “The most wonderful worship service I’ve ever been in!” Another worshipful Encounter with God when he used music to feed the soul.
One last grace note: The wife’s purse with about $800 in it flew away with the fireworks - but God allowed them to find it.
A couple and their helpers traveled to Mississippi and set up their large fireworks tent for holiday revelers several miles from Jackson. Several competitors’ tents also dotted the lot, each of varying sizes. This husband and wife speculated that afternoon about everyday matters: the amount of money they would take home from the stacks of Roman candles, rockets, plain old firecrackers, sparklers, and other novelty items, if they would make enough to pay the helpers well, and noted the number of cars clustered around the other tents comparing them with the number who had chosen their wares. They didn’t suspect they would encounter the Lord and his mercy in such a spectacular way on this Mississippi afternoon.
As they and their workers tended to business, a fearsome tornado roared down upon them! They fled the tent, all five of their little group, jumping into a pick-up truck; the wife curled in the floor of the vehicle, arms cradling her belly, trying to protect the child within her.
The storm picked up the canvas tent as we might snatch up a dish cloth, and tangled it in a power line. One bundle of fireworks sped through the air past the frightened crew in the truck (every one of whom was praying aloud); all watched the storm grab $50,000 worth of fireworks and hurl them into the skies - to vanish. Even if they’d been concerned anymore about being bested in sales, it was a moot point. No tents remained to compete.
The truck and its occupants were unhurt.
As they crawled from the truck cab, the thoughts they’d entertained earlier had vanished like the fireworks and the tornado. No longer were they concerned about whether their supply of pyrotechnics would sell and how many would sell, and how much profit they’d take home. Only praises for their God filled them!
Later they returned to the motel to find another blessing: a generator to power lights and other conveniences. But the best was yet to come.
A man with a saxophone appeared in the midst of the devastation, and proceeded to play How Great Thou Art. The husband, in relating the story later, proclaimed it “The most wonderful worship service I’ve ever been in!” Another worshipful Encounter with God when he used music to feed the soul.
One last grace note: The wife’s purse with about $800 in it flew away with the fireworks - but God allowed them to find it.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
HHIEGT? (How Have I Encountered God Today?)
Oh my. Last night was definitely another encounter with you, Lord! You seem to abide in music just as much as anywhere else - or at least You reach out to touch my spirit through that medium just as often as You use other ways.
The children's chorus began the joy at last night's Downtown Christmas Eve service - sweet voices blending in praise and flowing from the balcony over those of us who listened below. Then we, the audience, had the privilege of lifting our voices to herald the moment when God chose to descend from heaven and enter the world through the womb of a teenage Jewish girl. What a thought!! What an event!
I thought my skin would not successfully hold in my heart when Kelly Neill sang "O Holy Night," looking down on newlyweds Beverly and Jonathan as they portrayed the little holy family. His pure voice, like liquid gold or silver, made my eyes wet and my soul explode as he reminded us again of the world pining in sin and darkness, until HE appeared and the soul felt its worth!
The darkened auditorium, glowing from myriads of tiny candles held by the worshipers, caused me to think of it as a sanctuary (a term our church doesn't use) rather than simply a sterile room for worship assemblies. The sheer warmth, love and reverence so palpable in that gathering reminded me that our God is our Sanctuary: our refuge, our shelter, our safe haven, our harbor - our Savior and Lord.
Glory be to God and on earth, peace among us all.
The children's chorus began the joy at last night's Downtown Christmas Eve service - sweet voices blending in praise and flowing from the balcony over those of us who listened below. Then we, the audience, had the privilege of lifting our voices to herald the moment when God chose to descend from heaven and enter the world through the womb of a teenage Jewish girl. What a thought!! What an event!
I thought my skin would not successfully hold in my heart when Kelly Neill sang "O Holy Night," looking down on newlyweds Beverly and Jonathan as they portrayed the little holy family. His pure voice, like liquid gold or silver, made my eyes wet and my soul explode as he reminded us again of the world pining in sin and darkness, until HE appeared and the soul felt its worth!
The darkened auditorium, glowing from myriads of tiny candles held by the worshipers, caused me to think of it as a sanctuary (a term our church doesn't use) rather than simply a sterile room for worship assemblies. The sheer warmth, love and reverence so palpable in that gathering reminded me that our God is our Sanctuary: our refuge, our shelter, our safe haven, our harbor - our Savior and Lord.
Glory be to God and on earth, peace among us all.
Monday, December 20, 2010
HHIEGT? (How Have I Encountered God Today?)
I met You, Father, at a holiday luncheon. Since a Christmas get-together with 20 plus excited women isn't usually the venue for serious conversations, I wasn't expecting for You to shiver my spirit, Lord.
I had refilled my tiny plate and wandered down into a sun-filled room where three or four sisters sat in a tight circle, perched on ottomans and chairs as they munched goodies. (Thank You for drawing me there.) How we landed on such a darkly complex subject I can't recall - but I'm so glad we veered in that direction! As we grieved together over the loss of a young woman from our church family, we collectively voiced our struggle to understand, to comprehend why, when illness strikes, that some are healed and other precious ones are not. I could see the confusion in the eyes of those in the circle as we silently pondered, and I knew I mirrored that bewilderment from my eyes. We continued to mull over the knotty subject; then someone recalled this scripture: "He himself bore our sins in his body ... By his wounds you have been healed" (1Pe 2:24). Someone proposed the idea that perhaps, as servants of Jesus and each other, God may call us to suffer for the sake of another's spiritual healing.
At that moment, one of the ladies thoughtfully said, "That happened with me." She then shared something of her long journey with cancer, which had begun many years previously. This was not a bleak and bitter recitation of an unjust difficulty she had endured; this lovely sister used each stage of her struggle to overflow with praises of the Lord! As she unfolded her passage through the valley, she punctuated her story over and over with thankfulness for the goodness of God even as she experienced apalling pain and sickness. It seemed that even when her body labored just to remain alive, her spirit remained alertly focused on her Master, and took note of and applauded each time God reached down in love.
Of all the amazing gifts the Lord gave during those weeks and months, even years, of calamity, certainly the most wonderful, awesome gift to this sister was the return of her prodigal brother to the Savior as a result of her battle with cancer! We raised our own heartfelt thanksgivings to Him as she concluded her testimony.
A worship assembly with hundreds of lovers of God could not have been more inspiring and uplifting as that little round assembly on that sunny porch. My spirit shivered as we encountered You, Lord.
I had refilled my tiny plate and wandered down into a sun-filled room where three or four sisters sat in a tight circle, perched on ottomans and chairs as they munched goodies. (Thank You for drawing me there.) How we landed on such a darkly complex subject I can't recall - but I'm so glad we veered in that direction! As we grieved together over the loss of a young woman from our church family, we collectively voiced our struggle to understand, to comprehend why, when illness strikes, that some are healed and other precious ones are not. I could see the confusion in the eyes of those in the circle as we silently pondered, and I knew I mirrored that bewilderment from my eyes. We continued to mull over the knotty subject; then someone recalled this scripture: "He himself bore our sins in his body ... By his wounds you have been healed" (1Pe 2:24). Someone proposed the idea that perhaps, as servants of Jesus and each other, God may call us to suffer for the sake of another's spiritual healing.
At that moment, one of the ladies thoughtfully said, "That happened with me." She then shared something of her long journey with cancer, which had begun many years previously. This was not a bleak and bitter recitation of an unjust difficulty she had endured; this lovely sister used each stage of her struggle to overflow with praises of the Lord! As she unfolded her passage through the valley, she punctuated her story over and over with thankfulness for the goodness of God even as she experienced apalling pain and sickness. It seemed that even when her body labored just to remain alive, her spirit remained alertly focused on her Master, and took note of and applauded each time God reached down in love.
Of all the amazing gifts the Lord gave during those weeks and months, even years, of calamity, certainly the most wonderful, awesome gift to this sister was the return of her prodigal brother to the Savior as a result of her battle with cancer! We raised our own heartfelt thanksgivings to Him as she concluded her testimony.
A worship assembly with hundreds of lovers of God could not have been more inspiring and uplifting as that little round assembly on that sunny porch. My spirit shivered as we encountered You, Lord.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Dishonest Words
"Healing words give life, but dishonest words crush the spirit" (Prov. 15:4).
Dishonest words crush not only the spirit of another person, but also crush relationships - those between people, and those between a person and his or her God. Dishonesty is a poison. It makes for a toxic situation because fear, resentment and uncertainty are introduced into the relationship. Trust begins to wither, or even dies.
Intimacy cannot exist between two people when one or both refuse to be open and truthful with each other. Their relationship remains above ground; they are unable to send down strong roots to stabilize and grow their bond. The ground of their choices is too hard.
Dishonesty can be passive and silent also. Letting another think I believe something when I do not is deceptive. To entertain negative thoughts about or disagree with another's words or actions, then pretend the disagreement doesn't exist is deceptive also, is it not?
"You want me to be completely truthful, so teach me wisdom" (Psa 51:6).
"Do not lie to each other. You have left your old sinful life and the things you did before. You have begun to live the new life ... and are beginning to be like the One who made you" (Col 3:9, 10).
Dishonest words crush not only the spirit of another person, but also crush relationships - those between people, and those between a person and his or her God. Dishonesty is a poison. It makes for a toxic situation because fear, resentment and uncertainty are introduced into the relationship. Trust begins to wither, or even dies.
Intimacy cannot exist between two people when one or both refuse to be open and truthful with each other. Their relationship remains above ground; they are unable to send down strong roots to stabilize and grow their bond. The ground of their choices is too hard.
Dishonesty can be passive and silent also. Letting another think I believe something when I do not is deceptive. To entertain negative thoughts about or disagree with another's words or actions, then pretend the disagreement doesn't exist is deceptive also, is it not?
"You want me to be completely truthful, so teach me wisdom" (Psa 51:6).
"Do not lie to each other. You have left your old sinful life and the things you did before. You have begun to live the new life ... and are beginning to be like the One who made you" (Col 3:9, 10).
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Encounter with God
I had an encounter with God last night.
A couple of days ago I decided to begin a new journal entitled: How Have I Encountered God Today? I felt I was drifting through some days, tending to trivia and not really watching for the working of the Lord. I want to be excited and enthralled by my Savior rather than yawning my way home!
However, my first entry was less than exciting; I finally, after several moments of tapping the pencil to my head, wrote down "shelter" and "food." Oh well, I thought, maybe some days I will yawn a little.
Later that evening we traveled to Conway to a Candlelight Carol Service by the Hendrix College Choir, of which our granddaughter, Meredith, is a member. (Invaluable member, I might add.) We've attended many Christmas concerts over the years, all good, usually presented in a regulation school auditorium. This one was different.
Arriving on campus we piled out of the car, tugging on coats, gloves and scarves before walking quickly through the chill wind and rustling dry leaves to a beautiful small chapel, snuggled among larger, stately red-brick buildings.
Greene Chapel, with its warmly intimate sanctuary, set the mood for the service. Dimly lit, the foyer seemed to beckon us in, greeting all with red poinsettias placed in nooks and on tables. Tall, slender black candle "posts" dotted the chapel, awaiting lighting.
As we settled in I admired the diminutive sanctuary. The polished wood ceiling soared upward to a peak, the various pieces forming a beautiful pattern. To the left and right of the front, massive bronze and silver-toned organ pipes stood straight and high, ready to perform. I began to feel as though I had flown back in time, to a scene right out of a Charles Dickens' novel. Perhaps this was a Christmas Eve service on a frigid night in a tiny village far away. Were those snow flurries the people were brushing off their cloaks? Were those really fur-trimmed bonnets the genteel ladies wore? Did I hear the jingle of bells from the sleighs outside, and did some of the gentlemen wear top hats and sport sideburns and mustaches?
I shook loose from my wild imagination and returned to the present.
As the strains of the hymn, Once in Royal David's City, drifted to our ears, the white-robed choir entered, walking single-file down the aisles, each holding a glowing candle. They looked and sounded like angels as they moved to their places, lighting the candle posts along the way.
And I commenced to Have an Encounter with God.
Nine of the choir presented nine different lessons at intervals during the service. All these lessons were pure scripture - no ad-libbing, no comments - just readings of the Word. The first concerned the fall of Adam and Eve, then several read from Isaiah's messianic prophecies, and the last few fed us with the story of the birth of the Messiah, Jesus. The final reader proclaimed the mind-bending truth from John 1 which says: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God ... The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." After each reading, the young man or woman lit a candle in the stand behind them, then turned, looked straight at the worshipers and said, "The Word of the LORD." We in the audience responded, "Thanks be to God!"
In and around the lessons flowed the magnificent music and words that lifted us to the throne. My heart overflowed with joy in God my Savior!
Later as I pondered over the evening I concluded that I had gotten a good dose of reverence for Almighty God in that place. Whether it came from the serene setting, the God-honoring carols and hymns, the prayers, the orderliness, the powerful, spoken Word - or all of these - I knew I had caught a glimpse of the Lord God eternal, all-powerful, immortal and glorious.
I had encountered my God.
A couple of days ago I decided to begin a new journal entitled: How Have I Encountered God Today? I felt I was drifting through some days, tending to trivia and not really watching for the working of the Lord. I want to be excited and enthralled by my Savior rather than yawning my way home!
However, my first entry was less than exciting; I finally, after several moments of tapping the pencil to my head, wrote down "shelter" and "food." Oh well, I thought, maybe some days I will yawn a little.
Later that evening we traveled to Conway to a Candlelight Carol Service by the Hendrix College Choir, of which our granddaughter, Meredith, is a member. (Invaluable member, I might add.) We've attended many Christmas concerts over the years, all good, usually presented in a regulation school auditorium. This one was different.
Arriving on campus we piled out of the car, tugging on coats, gloves and scarves before walking quickly through the chill wind and rustling dry leaves to a beautiful small chapel, snuggled among larger, stately red-brick buildings.
Greene Chapel, with its warmly intimate sanctuary, set the mood for the service. Dimly lit, the foyer seemed to beckon us in, greeting all with red poinsettias placed in nooks and on tables. Tall, slender black candle "posts" dotted the chapel, awaiting lighting.
As we settled in I admired the diminutive sanctuary. The polished wood ceiling soared upward to a peak, the various pieces forming a beautiful pattern. To the left and right of the front, massive bronze and silver-toned organ pipes stood straight and high, ready to perform. I began to feel as though I had flown back in time, to a scene right out of a Charles Dickens' novel. Perhaps this was a Christmas Eve service on a frigid night in a tiny village far away. Were those snow flurries the people were brushing off their cloaks? Were those really fur-trimmed bonnets the genteel ladies wore? Did I hear the jingle of bells from the sleighs outside, and did some of the gentlemen wear top hats and sport sideburns and mustaches?
I shook loose from my wild imagination and returned to the present.
As the strains of the hymn, Once in Royal David's City, drifted to our ears, the white-robed choir entered, walking single-file down the aisles, each holding a glowing candle. They looked and sounded like angels as they moved to their places, lighting the candle posts along the way.
And I commenced to Have an Encounter with God.
Nine of the choir presented nine different lessons at intervals during the service. All these lessons were pure scripture - no ad-libbing, no comments - just readings of the Word. The first concerned the fall of Adam and Eve, then several read from Isaiah's messianic prophecies, and the last few fed us with the story of the birth of the Messiah, Jesus. The final reader proclaimed the mind-bending truth from John 1 which says: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God ... The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." After each reading, the young man or woman lit a candle in the stand behind them, then turned, looked straight at the worshipers and said, "The Word of the LORD." We in the audience responded, "Thanks be to God!"
In and around the lessons flowed the magnificent music and words that lifted us to the throne. My heart overflowed with joy in God my Savior!
Later as I pondered over the evening I concluded that I had gotten a good dose of reverence for Almighty God in that place. Whether it came from the serene setting, the God-honoring carols and hymns, the prayers, the orderliness, the powerful, spoken Word - or all of these - I knew I had caught a glimpse of the Lord God eternal, all-powerful, immortal and glorious.
I had encountered my God.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)