Gone but Not Forgotten

   A few weeks ago I was in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  We lived there for 8 years right after college and right after marriage.  It was my adult beginning and I loved Tulsa. It took several months for me to find a job, ( no teacher shortage back then)  and I immersed myself in a church family. I’ve been back several times over the past few years and took pictures of the home we built there and schools wherein I taught.  But, I had never gone back to the site of that church. On this trip, I found myself literally down the street, so I ran by.

   With heavy heart, I drive away from the places that meant so much to me, so long ago,  in another life. How can they be so run down, so dead? My memories of them are NOT dead,  they are vibrantly alive.

   The church where I sang, where my daughter began her life. Where she stood on the platform at age 2 ( I have the picture) and "directed" praise & worship one Sunday morning after church. It's the place  where we huddled in the basement during tornadoes and laughed around tables laden with food.  In that basement, every Wednesday night, we gathered with our spiritual family for dinner. Weddings and funerals of friends filled these walls.   The sisters I never had, the women who became mentors, all of their spirits float through this place.

  I knew it had been sold and became a funeral home. Today,  it’s an abandoned shell, the etching on the sanctuary windows coated in dust and grime.  The glass doors where we entered and exited laughing and hugging, boarded up with plywood and graffiti. The beautiful spring and fall landscaping that I remember is shriveled twigs and branches with barren brown dirt.  It’s just a place but, in my memory, a place of happiness and joy, a place that I grieved deeply when life moved us away.  

  The parsonage is still just steps away from the building. So many meetings, dinners and soirees took place there.  So much laughter and a place where tears flowed as I sat in on the patio or in the living room or even in the kitchen.  Dinners cooked by the amazing Brenda, truly hostess with the mostess. Her house was owned by the church, but she put her heart and soul into making it a home for her family and for us.  It’s now a BANK. The irony, that our parsonage is a BANK. How could that happen?

   The pink “mansion”  that was our nursery and Sunday School rooms is long gone. I think  It was demolished by the funeral home owners for more parking. The wooden building on the back of the parking lot is gone too.  It was our Girls Ministries/Missionette building and I spent many hours there. Several years we used one room of the three as storage for aluminum cans.   It was standing joke that we funded our program on pop and beer. Cockroaches love those beverages also and the building was generally infested no matter how much roach spray I used.  

  I sat in the car and let the memories wash over me.  These places that hold so many memories and were the locations that my life revolved around.     My sorrow is deepened by the reality that those who would understand are gone also. Both of the Brenda’s.   

  Brenda A. would sit across the table from me as I lamented this without a coffee, she doesn’t like coffee.  She would chide me, and not gently, for my sorrow. Life goes on,  move on.

  Brenda H.  would hold a coffee cup and empathize, then wisely counsel me to move on,  a full life is always evolving.

  So, I wipe away the tears, and drive away,  doubting I will ever drive by here again. And I smile, because this place and the people associated with it, happened.

CHALLENGE: Write a sentence about a place in your memory that is no longer there.  

Shelter

"It is in the shelter of each other that people live."

  Can I challenge you to write one sentence in response to this quote before you read my many sentences of response?

Years ago at a Dry Gulch Women's Retreat,  ( Dry Gulch is, of course,  what Heaven will be like);  a speaker spoke about "shelter".  From scripture, she took 3 Hebrew words meaning "shelter"  and spoke about each of them.  She had photos of the 3 different shelters and spoke of how God meant for them to be used in our lives.   I don't remember much of the message but I felt very comforted by the thought of those shelters. 

Shelter:   covered,  protected,  safe.

So when this quote popped up in my "one-sentence daily journal",  it intrigued me.  I started thinkin
about it.   Certainly children live within the shelter of their parents.  Many women are blessed enough to live within the shelter of their husbands.  I've sought and found shelter in my church family.   Thinkin on this,  I discovered,  I have indeed lived in the shelter of others.   I am beyond grateful for them. 

However,  I have also lived in the shelter of the Almighty God.  Living out Psalm 91:1   " Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty." 

It should come as no big revelation that we have to move into the shelter.  Oklahomans know it's important move into the shelter before the storm gets too close.  We need to create and cultivate our 'shelter' of people before we need their shelter.  Additionally,  we need to cultivate living in the shelter of the Most High before we need His protection, covering and safety. 

Take shelter today even if you're living in the Son.     

   

Psalm 86

     THINKIN’ On  these words of David  in Psalm 86.    It was written during one of David’s many tough times.    He begins by asking God to “hear”  him and “answer”    He repeats this request again in verse 6.  And this time,   David asks God to hear him and grant him,  not what he deserves,  but mercy.  The Message translation calls David a “wretch”.  A wretch would certainly have earned punishment.  Because  Mercy is undeserved, David acknowledges he is asking for something he did not deserve.  Then,  he says something that he knows from experience,  God answers him when he calls.  He is confident in the request he is making of God.  He spends the next 3 verses exalting God and reminding himself of God’s deeds and faithfulness.  He acknowledges his foes and ruthless people around him and then he says the piece de resistance,   He reminds himself and God of the characteristics of God:  “compassionate and gracious,  slow to anger,  abounding in love and faithfulness.”

No wonder David trusted this God whom there was no one like and whose deeds cannot compare with any other.  Imagine,  he is kind and tender, giving,  patient, full of love and he never, never quits. 

 One morning not to long ago,  I was THINKIN’on these THINGS when I realized. This prayer of David in verses 6&7 encompasses all my (and your) needs  “Hear my prayer, Lord”   turn to me,  incline your ear to me,  listen, pay attention because in your presence there is all I need. Hundreds of chorus’ tell of the things that happen in his presence. When  I enter into His presence, I have set myself up for successful requests. 

“Listen to my cry for mercy”  Forgive us,  even though we are undeserving.   Heal us,  deliver us, save us,  not because of what we do but because of who YOU are.

“…in distress I call to you”   We need strength for the suffering, the trials that we and our loved ones are experiencing.    We have needs that require deliverance from cancer,  sin,  sickness, mental health issues.    This verse allows me to enumerate my four  cancer ridden friends,  two young men with traumatic brain injuries, the prodigals,  and their mothers.  These needs “distress” me but right in this Word,  it says I can call to God regarding these needs. 

“because you answer me.”   I ask these things because I know you will answer me. And should there be any doubt about this,  I can skip down and remember that my God is compassionate and gracious. 

  Praying Psalm 86 today and Thinkin´on it.     

Examples

A recent morning devotion sitting under a Colorado sky with a cool breeze  ( not wind OKLA friends),  and a cup of coffee made me pause.  It talked about leading by example and asked who, in  (My) life had led me by example.  Example is different than teaching me something or impacting my life.  Example is the person who lived what they taught me.
    

I thought immediately of the colleagues who shaped me as a teacher.  I can rattle off their names in a second.  My former classroom reeked of their influence and even now,  subbing and instructional coaching,  I still draw from them.  I even called one of them last night for reassurance about a recommendation I was making to my current boss.

I thought of my childhood mentors, most of them waiting for me in Heaven.   Versal Denton,  who knew the scriptures inside out,  who we would see praying before class and would look to the heavens before answering our adolescent questions.   Who modeled what she taught even if I ran into her at the grocery store.  She, who years later would hold me in prayer as I buried my first grandchild.  She battled cancer and a host of other health issues before going to Heaven,  but her example never wavered.  And most of you have never heard of her. 

As a young wife, mother and lay person,  I encountered many women who led by example.  Brenda Holder,  the quintessential pastors wife who taught me that pastor’s wives are just people too. 

Jean Cobb,  who would teach me about prayer and resources.  She knew so much scripture  but led by example to seek counsel. 

Estes Eubanks and Rosie Yandell who taught this Lay Person that she had a valuable ministry despite not being “in the ministry”.  Their example ( and trust in me)  inspired me to press on to my best. 

Dee McNeil,  Loretta Wideman,  Tina Morrow,  women who led me to see the beauty in sacrifice.   Tina,  15 years my junior,  would show me how grace and mercy can save relationships. 

   Steve Green sang a song in the 90’s,  “May all who come behind us find us faithful,  may the light of our devotion light their way,  and the footprints that we leave,  lead them to believe and the life we live inspire them to obey…” 

Thinkin’  about MY example today.  

Ancient

Ancient, I like the word.  It rolls off my tongue with nostalgia.  I have a bit of linguistic knowledge through my hours of Language development in college.  I haven’t used it professionally for some time now, but you don’t lose what you knew.  

“Ancient” according to dictionary.com means “of or in a long time past, dating from a remote period, of great age. Ancient, by its very definition speaks of age, but also everlasting worth.”

The Hebrews called God “Ancient of Days”     I love Michael W. Smith’s song “Ancient Words . . .    ever true, changing me, changing you”

I’m thinkin’ today about those Ancient Words.  The Words of the Bible, centuries old and yet still relevant.   Even the unbeliever has to agree in common sense scripture such as “sharp words cut like a sword”   or “lazy people irritate their employers”   and “thou shalt not kill”. 

These ancient words when applied to my life change me.  Not necessarily my circumstances, me.  

The ancient words change me when I am quiet  with them.   Many times I turn to the BibleHub app and read a scripture in several translations.  I let the ancient words drive deep down within me and reverberate in my heart.  When I open my heart, without presumption, to hear the wisdom of the ancient words.  

  “I have come with open heart, Let these ancient words impart”.  Impart wisdom, comfort, guidance, instruction, Ancient Words.

What ancient word is speaking to you today? 

You shouldn't have Joy

   Joy is a feeling you shouldn't have.  Not that we shouldn't have joy but joy is the surprise,  the shock of a smile when you've got nothing to smile about.  It's the good nights sleep when you've got plenty to keep you up,  the contentment when everything crashes around you.

   I remember the worst time of my life,  walking by a mirror and catching a glimpse of myself smiling.   I remember wondering why on earth I was smiling.   the smile turned to a puzzled look because of my circumstances.  My measured, perfect life was disintegrating  before my very eyes.  I was worried about housing, money,  my reputation and my children.  The puzzled look turned to wonder as I realized my circumstances had NOT stolen my joy.

   Paul's writings frequently annoy me.   "Count it all joy. . ."  Seriously,  I am not joyful when things are tough.  I want the world to know how bad things are and feel sorry for me.  If we're honest,  people who are always chipper are annoying.  Life isn't always Charlestons and Andy's  and that's okay.  Sighing over a flat tire doesn't mean I've lost my joy. 

   Sometimes we just NEED a pity party.  I set a timer for mine.  I dare suggest:  The next time  your life takes a left turn, set a timer for 15 minutes, 30 max.  Indulge in your personal,  private pity party.  You must do this alone:  Cry, remind yourself how unfair this is, how much more deserving you are,  blame everyone else.  Poor me,  nobody likes me, everybody hates me,  I'm gonna go eat a gallon of Ben & Jerry's.  When the timer goes off,  get up,  dust yourself off and with Jesus,  make a plan to get through this.  You haven't lost your joy or your salvation.  Give yourself permission to be who He made you.  And the fact is,  He made you with emotions,  positive and negative.  He also gave you the tools to deal with those emotions. 

Joy is  a gift,  a fruit of the Spirit according to the Word.   Grab a pencil and notebook and jot down one or two sentences on your definition of joy. 

Pride

     Thinkin’ on pride today,  not because I woke up wanting too.  I actually would choose not to think of pride.  I know some prideful/narcissistic people whose names I won’t mention but you do too.  My mama would say “Pride goes before a fall”  but I don’t see that happening a lot.  Most narcissistic people seem pretty successful  but I digress.

   I don’t consider myself prideful because I am not prone to tooting my own horn publicly.  In fact, I’m more likely to publicly put myself down.   But deep in the recesses of my soul,  I know.  My pride manifests in a more private, more quiet,  more deadly way.

   

   My pride manifests in fear of failure.  Fear of how people perceive me,  fear of people’s judgment,  fear of speaking out and being wrong.

 

   Pride keeps me from prayer.  I can’t boldly step out and pray for your need or promise to pray for you because,  what if?   What if what I pray doesn’t happen  and what if I fast for your need and God doesn’t deliver the way we want.  I don’t want to look like a fool or a lesser Christian.   I can’t risk my friends, family and congregation wondering about my walk with God because he doesn’t answer my prayers.    Fear of being wrong keeps me from boldly and courageously standing on the Word of God.  A fear born out of pride.  

   Webster says Pride is a "high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in conduct, etc.  

    I sincerely pray I don't "cherish"  pride.  However,  I am afraid I display a destructive  pride in my prayer and writing life.  Ouch.


What are you thinking 'bout pride in your life today?