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Nearest and Dearest Fellowship (Spurgeon’s Faith’s Checkbook)

From Charles Spurgeon’s “Faith’s Checkbook”
Nearest and Dearest Fellowship
December 17
So shall we ever be with the Lord. (1 Thessalonians 4:17)

While we are here the Lord is with us, and when we are called away we are with Him. There is no dividing the saint from His Savior. They are one, and they always must be one: Jesus cannot be without His own people, for He would be a Head without a body. Whether caught up into the air, or resting in paradise, or sojourning here, we are with Jesus; and who shall separate us from Him?
What a joy is this! Our supreme honor, rest, comfort, delight, is to be with the Lord. We cannot conceive of anything which can surpass or even equal this divine society. By holy fellowship we must be with Him in His humiliation, rejection, and travail, and then we shall be with Him in His glory. Before long we shall be with Him in His rest and in His royalty, in His expectation and in His manifestation. We shall fare as He fares and triumph as He triumphs.
O my Lord, if I am to be forever with Thee, I have a destiny incomparable. I will not envy an archangel. To be forever with the Lord is my idea of heaven at its best. Not the harps of gold, nor the crowns unfading, nor the light unclouded is glory to me; but Jesus, Jesus Himself, and myself forever with Him in nearest and dearest fellowship.

From the Faith’s Checkbook Mobile Devotional Android app – http://www.LookingUpwardApps.com/fcb

 

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Nothing Old (Spurgeon’s Faith’s Checkbook)

From Charles Spurgeon’s “Faith’s Checkbook”
Nothing Old
December 14
And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. (Revelation 21:5)

Glory be to His name! All things need making new, for they are sadly battered and worn by sin. It is time that the old vesture was rolled up and laid aside, and that creation put on her Sunday suit. But no one else can make all things new except the Lord who made them at the first; for it needs as much power to make out of evil as to make out of nothing. Our Lord Jesus has undertaken the task, and He is fully competent for the performance of it. Already he has commenced His labor, and for centuries He has persevered in making new the hearts of men and the order of society. By and by He will make new the whole constitution of human government, and human nature shall be changed by His grace; and there shall come a day when the body shall be made new and raised like unto His glorious body.
What a joy to belong to a kingdom in which everything is being made new by the power of its King! We are not dying out: we are hastening on to a more glorious life. Despite the opposition of the powers of evil, our glorious Lord Jesus is accomplishing His purpose and making us, and all things about us, “new” and as full of beauty as when they first came from the hand of the Lord.

From the Faith’s Checkbook Mobile Devotional Android app – http://www.LookingUpwardApps.com/fcb

 

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Desires of Righteous Granted (Spurgeon’s Faith’s Checkbook)

From Charles Spurgeon’s “Faith’s Checkbook”
Desires of Righteous Granted
April 15
The desires of the righteous shall be granted. (Proverbs 10:24)

Because it is a righteous desire it is safe for God to grant it. It would be neither good for the man himself, nor for society at large, that such a promise should be made to the unrighteous. Let us keep the Lord’s commands, and He will rightfully have respect to our desires.
When righteous men are left to desire unrighteous desires, they will not be granted to them. But then these are not their real desires; they are their wanderings or blunders, and it is well that they should be refused. Their gracious desires shall come before the Lord, and He will not say them nay.
Does the Lord deny us our requests for a time? Let the promise for today encourage us to ask again. Has He denied us altogether? We will thank Him still, for it always was our desire that He should deny us if He judged a denial to be best.
As to some things, we ask very boldly. Our chief desires are for holiness, usefulness, likeness to Christ, preparedness for heaven. These are the desires of grace rather than of nature — the desires of the righteous man rather than of the mere man. God will not stint us in these things but will do for us exceeding abundantly. “Delight thy self also in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.” This day, my soul, ask largely!

From the Faith’s Checkbook Mobile Devotional Android app – http://www.LookingUpwardApps.com/fcb

 

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Set Apart (Spurgeon’s Faith’s Checkbook)

From Charles Spurgeon’s “Faith’s Checkbook”
Set Apart
February 25
Ye shall be named the priests of the Lord. (Isaiah 61:6)

This literal promise to Israel belongs spiritually to the seed after the Spirit, namely, to all believers. If we live up to our privileges, we shall live unto God so clearly and distinctly that men shall see that we are set apart for holy service and shall name us the priests of the Lord. We may work or trade as others do, and yet we may be solely and wholly the ministering servants of God. Our one occupation shall be to present the perpetual sacrifice of prayer, and praise, and testimony, and self-consecration to the living God by Jesus Christ.
This being our one aim, we may leave distracting concerns to those who have no higher calling. “Let the dead bury their dead.” It is written, “Strangers shall stand and feed your flocks, and the sons of the alien shall be your plowmen and your vine-dressers,” They may manage politics, puzzle out financial problems, discuss science, and settle the last new quibbles of criticism; but we will give ourselves unto such service as becomes those who, like the Lord Jesus, are ordained to a perpetual priesthood.
Accepting this honorable promise as involving a sacred duty, let us put on the vestments of holiness and minister before the Lord all day long.

From the Faith’s Checkbook Mobile Devotional Android app – http://www.LookingUpwardApps.com/fcb

 

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The Bible’s Supreme Place (Spurgeon’s Faith’s Checkbook)

From Charles Spurgeon’s “Faith’s Checkbook”
The Bible’s Supreme Place
April 9
Great peace have they which love thy law: and nothing shall offend them. (Psalm 119:165)

Yes, a true love for the great Book will bring us great peace from the great God and be a great protection to us. Let us live constantly in the society of the law of the Lord, and it will breed in our hearts a restfulness such as nothing else can. The Holy Spirit acts as a Comforter through the Word and sheds abroad those benign influences which calm the tempests of the soul.
Nothing is a stumbling block to the man who has the Word of God dwelling in him richly. He takes up his daily cross, and it becomes a delight. For the fiery trial he is prepared and counts it not strange, so as to be utterly cast down by it. He is neither stumbled by prosperity — as so many are — nor crushed by adversity — as others have been — for he lives beyond the changing circumstances of external life. When his Lord puts before him some great mystery of the faith which makes others cry, “This is an hard saying; who can hear it?” the believer accepts it without question; for his intellectual difficulties are overcome by his reverent awe of the law of the Lord, which is to him the supreme authority to which he joyfully bows. Lord, work in us this love, this peace, this rest, this day.

From the Faith’s Checkbook Mobile Devotional Android app – http://www.LookingUpwardApps.com/fcb

 
 

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So Much To Do…So Little Time!

 Lately there has been a lot of to-do over an attack on women here in the United States…mostly aimed at Stay-at-Home Moms like me.  The “liberated” women feel we don’t really do anything, and don’t consider what we do as “work”.  In the same way many Stay-at-home moms feel that these liberated moms need to spend more time being  a mom and wife at home.  In the middle are those moms who do both, or have done both…this is where I have fallen in the past. Truth be told, I’ve been in all 3 areas now.  I’ve been that stay-at-home mom, the mom who stayed home that worked part time or worked full time from home, and I’ve been that mom who works full time outside the home.  Of the 3 the two that are the hardest to do are to be a full-time stay-at-home mom, or a stay-at-home mom who has to work part time or work from home at the same time.

When I only worked outside the home and didn’t have to do all the housework, deal with children’s needs all day because they were in school while I worked, or do all the cooking, I had only a third of the responsibility that I have now.  I was able to come home and cook every 3rd night since my husband and 2nd oldest daughter took turns cooking the other 2  nights, or because there was more money in the budget we could eat out more often.  We cleaned house on Saturdays as a family, each carrying an equal share.  With my youngest in preschool while I worked I didn’t have to deal with half the day of her needs, and when we were all home, my husband, older daughter, and I were able to split the time she needed in the evening and on weekends.  Things were a lot easier, and that made working easier.  The downside was I missed many of my youngest daughter’s milestones.  Before this time I had been a single mom, who worked sometimes 3 jobs to support my daughters, and that was hard because I had to do all the cleaning, cooking, and still work while my daughters were either in school or at a babysitter.  I missed even more than.

As a stay-at-home mom, working part-time or full-time work-at-home jobs I carried both my work load and all the normal mom and wife responsibilities.  I worked either in theater and had to take my daughters with me so I could keep an eye on them, or for a while I worked as a home reader for Focus on the Family, which meant getting my daughter off to school, walking to the office, picking up mail, then walking to the office and dropping it off when I was done coding it to go to the proper office, walk home and pick up my daughter at the bus stop, then spend the rest of the day, cooking and cleaning, doing homework with my daughter, sewing, and whatever else was necessary for each day.  I didn’t have a dryer, so I often had to sneak in a load or two of laundry, and hang them on the clothesline to dry.  I often ate no breakfast and snuck in a light lunch of fruit and a salad just to get through the day.  My ex husband didn’t think what I did counted as work, so when he came home he expected me to carry all the house chores including mowing, weeding, caring for the garden, and dealing with my oldest daughter’s need.  He would just come home and sleep or watch sports on television.  I often went to bed at 2 or 3 in the morning when my house work was done, and rose at 6 to get breakfast for the two of them and prepare my daughter for school.  I really never had time to read a book, relax, and I can’t even tell you of one television show or movie that I watched back then.

As a stay-at-home mom now, my cup is full and overflowing!  My to-do list for just this week and next is unbelievable.  Here is what that list looks like…

1.  Do laundry…this is a daily thing with my daughter and husband, even more when my granddaughter is here.

2.  Clean the top floor of the house which includes the home office that I don’t use, 2 bathrooms, 2 bedrooms, the hallway and staircase, and my sewing room.  This means dusting, wiping down glass, picking up toys, clothes, school things, trash that doesn’t seem to make it to the trash cans, cleaning the toilets, showers, tubs, mirrors windows, sweeping and mopping.

3.  Clean the main floor, which includes the kitchen, livingroom, a bathroom, and formal diningroom.  With this there is sweeping, mopping, cleaning the fans and lights, vacumning both the floor and furniture, carpet cleaning, dusting, window cleaning, glass cleaning, counter cleaning, appliance cleaning, cleaning the refrigerator, cleaning out cupboards and the pantry, besides the normal routine of doing dishes, and clearing counters and tables off.

4.Clean the basement, the staircase down to it, and organize the basement closet.  This entails me to do more sweeping, mopping, clearing out things, dusting, cleaning windows, and straightening up all the things that Jk and my granddaughter have played with.  The storage closet has to be organized to make room for emergency supplies, and I have shelves to fix in there that the kids have broken.

5.  Clean the front porch, which entails me to sweep it, wash it down, water the herb garden and cut some of these herbs to dry for use.  No one likes to do this job because of the bugs and spiders that collect on it.  Since I’m not afraid of spiders this has fallen on me.

6.  Sew culottes and shirts for my daughter to wear to camp next week.  I have 6 outfits and a one piece bathing suit to make.

7.  Sew summer clothes for my granddaughter.  Her mom is a single mom, who doesn’t sew, and can’t afford to replenish her clothes for summer and for school next year.  So grandma said I’ll do the summer clothes so that my daughter could concentrate on getting her school clothes.  This is what happens when a father isn’t involved in helping with his child, physically, emotionally, or financially.

8.  I have a stack of books to read and review for 3 different sites, and they need to be done this month.  I’m talking like 20 books.

9.  Cook meals.

10.  Work on crocheted and sewn Christmas gifts for family this year.  This includes about 8 prayer shawls, a couple of ponchos, a couple afghans, 2 quilts, and some fabric books and crayon holders.

11.  Make a couple of dresses for a friend’s granddaughter.

12.  Sew 2 new shirts for my husband.

13.  Homeschool Jk through the summer for things she has struggled with this year.

14.  Shop for groceries, and put them away.

15.  Do Ironing.

16.  Do all the mending for the family, tears, buttons, and hemming.

17.  Clean and organize closets.

18.  Write reviews for two books I’ve finished reading, and submit to 3 sites to publish online.

19.  Watch my granddaughter, entertain her while Jk is at camp.

20.  Get Jk ready to go to church camp next week.  Clean her clothes, sew her clothes, and pack her clothes.

I could go on and on.  This list doesn’t include my  blogging, writing poetry, practicing my guitar and singing, tring to get a prayer shawl ministry at the church, or doctor’s appointments for the family including my own for my health issues.  There is so much to do and so little time to do it in.  In the past I would have conquered this list in no time flat.  I had health, energy, and youth on my side.  But now it is impossible and I have to decide what to put aside.  The house cleaning seems to take the most loss.  My health issues make it difficult for me to do certain things like wiping the floor boards, bending down to clean lower cabinets, and anything else that means bending near the floor or sitting on the floor to do.  No one likes to clean toilets so I have to do that.  I have to keep the fans clean because of my allergies, so that has to be done.  Tubs and shower cleaning are split between Jk and I.  She does her bathroom and I do the other 2 in the house. Jk tries to help, but she is more apt to make messes, than to clean them up.  She likes to do it quick, but not right, which means I have to go back over what she has done.  I find this easier than getting upset with her all the time.  She has really become better at it.  She likes to cook, and so does breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner for us, but she is still learning to cook so I often have to help and guide her through dinner.  She has taken over the dishes for me, so that helps.  She does help with the laundry, often changing them over because it hurts my back to bend over to do it.  I fold the clothes, and everyone is responsible for putting their own up.  My husband will help with dinner sometimes and usually makes sure Jk does her chores right.  If I ask he will do some of the cleaning, but usually just gets in my way because he wants to do the things I can do.  But I appreciate his wanting to be helpful, just as I appreciate Jk’s help.

Everyone wants a perfect home, and thinks you should be able to keep it perfectly clean, and that is the way I used to be.  I was almost obsessive compulsive about it.  But with Fibromyalgia and Arthritis I have had to change the way I think about cleaning.  I’ve had to accept that I can’t do all the things I use to.  I’ve had to decide to be happy with a lived in house that is free of germs.  If a magazine or book is left somewhere, I have to be happy with that as long as the table below it is dusted.  If the dog is laying on the carpet, I have to not be annoyed by the thought of it shedding and be happy that I have a new vacumn cleaner made to deal with dog hair, and that Lady is a good family dog who seems to sense when any of us are sick, and who loves to just be loved by the family.  You see I’ve had to learn to give and take, to compromise in my feelings on what is done and how it is done.  I have to take one day at a time, and do what I can in it.  I have had to learn to work on something until my back hurts unbearably, then sit with my feet up and a heating pad on my back until I can get up and work again.  There are a lot of things I need to get done, and very little time to do them in, but I will do what health and time allow me to do.

Being a stay-at-home mom is far harder than any of the others.  I didn’t even include all the things that most stay-at-home moms have to do that I no longer do.  They are taxi drivers for their kids…We have only 1 car so that has been crossed off my list for now.  They are usually changing diapers, caring for babies, toddlers and school age kids at the same time.  They are pulled in a myriad of directions, as they deal with homework for different aged children, cook dinner, deal with sibling rivalry, getting kids to do chores, disciplining, consoling, and loving their children, while dealing with a mental list of things to do to prepare for their husband coming home.  A lot is said about them sitting home eating Bon-Bons and watching soap operas.  I can tell you from experience that this isn’t so.  Most women turn the television on to hear adult voices to keep them sane, since most of the time they are communicating with children and teens who have their own forms of language.  They may eat Bon-bons or other candy, but it isn’t constant, but for that sugar rush that will help them get things done, or because they have no time to stop for lunch or breakfast.  Moms of toddlers are often stopping to be the playmate for their child, to remind those little ones of safety issues with a “don’t do that”, and dealing with naptimes for these little energetic children.  They are rocking babies to sleep, feeding them, and it never stops.

One thing that it is hard to make people understand.  When you work outside the home, you are working 9 to 5, then going home.  Your “work” is done for the day, and you don’t have to deal with it until the next day, and you get paid for it.  Stay-at-home moms don’t get paid a cent for what they do.  Their job never ends even after their kids grow up and leave the house.  A stay-at-home mom doesn’t win rewards, bonuses, or promotions for what she does, and rarely even gets a thank you or any form of gratitude for what they do…SACRIFICIALLY, every day.  They don’t get me time, not even when they are in the bathtub.  I can tell you, children do not care when a mom is in the bathroom for any purpose.  They will not walk in on dad, but don’t think twice about walking in on mom.  I know, because in my house my daughters think that when I’m in the bathroom for any reason, they believe this is the time to talk about their wants, needs, problems, and so much more.  I often say to them…”Does this look like a conference room?”  It’s like they have you cornered at that moment, and they know it is the best time to ask for anything, because all you are thinking about is being alone.  If you add to all this the nursing and doctoring moms have to do, and being the family receptionist, scheduler, and therapist, a stay-at-home mom’s life is pretty full to the point of overflowing.  She is an amazing woman who can change a diaper, repair simple plumbing problems, build shelving, do room design and fashion design, along with a myriad of other jobs at the same time.   She is a chef, an entertainer, a multi-tasker, a personal assistant, and Wonder Woman, all wrapped up in one.  When she goes out in the Job World, most employers don’t even consider what the Stay-At-Home mom has been capable of doing.  They just consider her to be the stereo type of a housewife. and never consider the talent it took to do all she does daily.  The thing is she will be all these things the rest of her life, without notice, without pay, and without thanks.  So the next time you ask your mother or your wife,  to do something…think about all the things she is already doing for you, and show her some appreciation for it daily.  The best way to show you appreciate her…HELP!  Do some of the things on her list and do them right without being asked.  Make a mom night, where she can sit and watch television, while other members of the family cook and clean without her help.  Send her out for a spa day once in a while.  Husbands, take on the kids when you get home, whether outside to play, or inside playing a game, just give mom a break from them.  Also husbands, realize that when you get home and your wife wants to vent, it is because she needs to hear an adult voice, or needs to feel adult love and compassion from you.  She needs to feel that she is loved and appreciated.

If you are a stay-at-home mom, realize your potential, your gifts and talents, and realize what a special woman you are.  The world could not turn without you there in it!

 

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John Branyan – The Three Little Pigs – YouTube

As a homeschooling mom, who has worked in Public Schools in the past, I know that the biggest problem in schools today is that they are not teaching the basics like they should.  Schools are so full of propaganda and junk that our children are being dumbed down in them.  The serious part of this video is the fact that our vocabulary is down to 3,000 words, where in the 1700’s it was extremely larger among children.  He makes his point by telling a fairy tale as it would have been told back in the 1700’s with the addition of one pig who is from the American colonies.  It is hilarious!  I hope you enjoy it, and yet think about the importance of a good education based on learning the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic.  Just click on the following link to watch the video, and be ready to laugh until it hurts!

John Branyan – The Three Little Pigs – YouTube.

 

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Picture It And Write It, Prompt #28

I’ve been dealing with being physically and mentally drained for a few days because of some meds for fibromyalgia and for bone spurs on my spine.  After a 6 hour nap yesterday I finally feel like I’m back on an even keel today, so I thought I would try to spark my creativity by taking Terry’s lead, from http://terry1954.wordpress.com/ , using a writing prompt to boost my imagination.  She gets the writing prompts from  Picture it & write or   Ermiliablog, and I thank all of these blogs for sharing this picture with me.  So here it goes…

It had been years since Charity had been back to her hometown, but it was time now to face her past and the sin that had held her captive.  She must go back to the beginning, and just a few moments in her mother’s home looking at old photo albums was enough to trigger many memories, both good and bad.  Now driving down to the lake, she hoped that some of those memories would explain to her where she went wrong.  Not much had changed except the lake seeming to take back some of the land that surrounded it, a result of the Spring storms that inundated the region, pouring down flood inducing rains for days.  Mom had said the flood had reached over the top of the old dock, crumbling it like a pile of matchsticks.  The city council had decided not to rebuild it, since there was a new pier available at the new Marina just a mile around the lake from the old pier.  Pulling into the Marina, Charity marveled at the beauty that had been put into its creation.  Beautiful oaks grew to each side of the entrance, giving shade to the long drive into the Marina.  A variety of flowers stood like a welcoming committee as they lined the street under the shade of the oaks.  As Charity entered the gate, she was greeted by a security guard, who welcomed her to the Marina, and made small talk about the weather today, and how he hoped she enjoyed her time at the new Marina.  After collecting her five dollar parking fee, the security guard gave her a receipt, a pamplet of services offered and planned activities of the day, and waved her on.  He reminded Charity of a programmed robot, showing no emotion, and repeating the same mantra over and over.

Back in her childhood days, Charity would not be going to a marina on a Sunday.  For years every Sunday she would go with her parents to the little church just a few miles south of the new Marina.  She remembered how much she loved Sundays back then, the singing, people praising God together, and a sermon from Pastor Smith that left each person meditating on their relationship with Jesus Christ.  The old church had been a place of solace, of love, and a beautiful place filled with peace.  Peace…that is what Charity needed now.  Life had taken its toll on her, and nothing in her life brought peace.  After she checked out the new Marina, Charity decided to drive around the lake to the old church and see if she could make the evening service at least.

Walking around the Marina, Charity marveled at the beautiful, white marble columns that adorned the entrances of the club house.  There was everything a community could want at this marina, from a large resteraunt, to a conciearge to fulfill your every need.  There was an 18 hole state-of-the-art golf course to the north of the main building, a series of boating docks and a pier lined with old fashioned street lights reaching out into the large lake.  One dock was lined with paddle boats and canoes for rent.  The other docks were lined with ski boats, family cruisers, speed boats, pontoons, and bass fishing boats, all just waiting for the owners to take them out on the lake.  It looked like there were many families, fishermen, and water skiers preparing to make excursions out on the lake for the day.  Charity wondered about why none appeared to have come from a church service, none were in church clothing, and all seemed to be more involved in family and friend activities, and the seeking of worldly enjoyment than on giving any acknowledgement to the Maker of this day and of the creation they were about to enjoy.  This was quite different from when Charity was a child, because it was stressed that this day was the Lord’s and a day of rest.  Church would have been a families first destination, and their last destination as well.  In between there might be a picnic at the lake or a family dinner at home, but to spend the whole day on the lake was not something that was even considered for a Sunday.  Although this way of spending a Sunday was common in the city, Charity began to wonder what caused this change here in the small town she loved.  Were there even churches in the community anymore, or had the churches changed their day or times of worship to allow this activity?  She began to wonder more about the little church around the lake where she had attended as a child.  Looking at her watch, Charity decided a quick lunch and tour of the clubhouse would allow her time to drive to the church, and make it just in time for the evening service.

An unfriendly hostess, led Charity across the diningroom to a table by the main row of windows.  She mentioned that this was the area the mayor liked to sit in the most, because he was able to see money rolling into the town’s bank account.  Charity was amazed at how materialistic that thought was, and a feeling of nausea filled her stomach.  One of the things that had made her leave the big city was the materialistic attitude that seemed to permeate the rude behavior of soceity there.  No one seemed to care about their neighbor, only how they could take advantage of them.  Consideration, compassion and respect were absent for the most part, and because they were missing the feeling of community and neighborhood were absent as well.  After perusing the menu, whistling at the high prices, Charity settled for a simple bowl of New England Clam Chowder, the House Roll, and a Chef Salad for lunch.  Bowing her head, Charity gave thanks, not only for the food but for being back in a community where God was still put first.  As she raised her head, Charity realized that many eyes were upon her, as if she was doing something unusual.  She looked around the diningroom and realized she was the only one who seemed to be bowing their head in prayer before their meal.  That nauseated pit in her stomach began to grow even more.  Finishing up her food, paying her check, Charity quickly walked around the Club House, took in the Gift Shop, the Golf Pro Shop, the Rental Desk, and perused the rack of pamplets of things to do at the Marina and in the area.  Taking a few, Charity walked to her car, stopping long enough to take in one more view of the whole Marina, before she got in and drove back through the oak and flowered lined entrance.   It seemed that this visit to the Marina had only left a larger feeling of loss and anxiety in her.  Where was the peace that she had come back to her hometown to find?  Charity was beginning to wonder what had happened to the hometown she remembered.

At least the gravel road leading to her old church had not changed, and the forest that lined part of the road were still in tack.  Charity remembered hunting mushrooms in this forest, and gathering raspberries and blackberries from the bushes that grew at the edge of trees.  She always came back with enough for Mom to make pies for Sunday dinner, along with pockets full to snack on herself.  Mom always laughed at the stains of red and purple on Charity’s face, that told the truth about how many berries had actually been eaten as she picked them from the bushes.  A sense of impending peace filled Charity’s soul, only to be shattered by reality a few moments later.  Coming into the clearing of the parking area near the bridge that led to the little chapel of her youth, Charity stared in disbelief.  Her childhood memories of the little church were battling with the reality that lay before her eyes at this very moment.

The lake had all but swallowed up the land the little church set upon, and the bridge that once lay over a small creek set over a river of water from the lake that now surrounded the church, leaving a little island of land, with the church perched on the edge of it.  Where the bridge had once gleamed of white washed boards lining it, was now nothing but old damaged wood with rusty nails, and missing boards.  The path that once had been lined in beautiful wild flowers, was now lined with mud and cracked dry dirt in places.  The once well-kept lawn of the church grew wild with grass, weeds, and brush.  Only a few scraggly trees still stood near the little chapel, that looked like it would fall apart should a slight wind blow against it.  Not a drop of white paint had graced the outside of the church in years, and it was obvious that the community had let it fall into disrepair for some time.  At least the steeple was still on top, and the little metal cross that had been made by the local blacksmith as a gift to the church, still stood, watching over the lake side of the church.  As Charity looked across the lake beside the church, the glow of the gleaming white structures of the Marina spoke of where the community’s focus had been.  It wasn’t on God anymore, not on his church, but on the materialistic enjoyment of the worldly things.  Charity’s heart sank even more.

Charity was thankful that she had decided to wear tennis shoes this morning, especially when she saw what she would have to traverse to get to the little church building.  There were sticker bushes lining the broken and missing boards of the path to the bridge.  Rusty nails stuck out of the walkway, and the rail across the bridge.  Near the water’s edge the mud was slimy and thick, but the ground around the little island still appeared dry and cracked, much like her soul had felt for the past few months since losing the one man she had loved to a car accident, and then suffering a miscarriage just days later.  These losses had left her feeling empty, dry of the ability to shed tears, and as if her heart was cracked beyond repair.  Somehow this old church and its surroundings spoke with empathy to her very being.  Charity gently opened the creaking door at the front of the church, and cleared the cobwebs that hung like spooky lace curtains inside the room.  She stopped a moment at the greeter’s stand that still stood by the center entrance to the church sanctuary.  Blowing dust off the visitor’s book, and flipping through the pages, Charity noticed that there were fewer and fewer entries in the book over the last decade and a half, until finally there were no more in the last 4 years.  A sadness filled her soul, as she realized this book marked the last heartbeats of the little chapel.  A tear dropped upon the now graying silk of the book’s cover, as Charity mournfully closed it.  Walking into the sanctuary, Charity noticed that the heart of the church, although dingy, filled with cobwebs and aging broken pews, still held a warmth to it.  It was obvious that someone had been in there in the last few years, as there were areas on the velvet covered altars that were free of dust.  The shapes of elbows and knees impressed upon the knee rest and along the top of the altar spoke of someone’s journey to the church to pray.  Charity dusted off a seat in a pew near the altar where the prints were and she sat.  Could these be the prints of someone hurting like her?  Were they the prints of a parent remembering a child who was loss,  or a wife mourning the loss of a husband?  In her heart she asked the Lord to give peace to the person who had traveled there to pray, and seek peace in their stormy life.

Leaning back, Charity’s memories took over.  She could hear the old piano playing, and a small choir of usually 7 singing…”Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling.  Calling for you and for me.  Here on the portals he’s waiting and watching, Watching for you and for me.”  Charity heard herself join in on the chorus of the old prayer hymn…”Come home, come home.  Ye who are weary come home.  Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling, Calling ‘O sinner, come home.”   Tears streamed down her eyes, as Charity felt drawn to the alter, to fill in the empty impressions with her own knees and elbows.  Prayer crept for her lips, as she asked for healing for her broken heart, and peace for her weary soul.  An arm filled with love and warmth reached around her shoulder, and a soft prayer was being raised beside her, for a daughter who had been lost to the world, but now had come home.  There was a thankfulness for many prayers finally answered for the child, and another prayer for healing and peace, then a simple amen to close it out.  Teardrops and another set of imprints of one handprint and two more knees joined the other imprints on the altar.  As Charity looked up, the tears flowed even more, as she realized it was her mother who had made those original imprints on the altar.  It was her mother who had come weekly on Sunday to pray for a loss child, and ask the Lord to bring her home.  It had been her mother who asked God to bring peace and comfort to a child who had suffered loss.  It was Charity’s mother, whom she had left alone in her hometown over 15 years ago, after her father had passed on, who had faithfully held onto her child in love, hope, and prayer.  Tears streamed faster down two faces now, as the welcoming of a Prodigal Child now happened.  This was not the superficial one that they had shared earlier, but the welcome that God always has for his child who has been lost, the welcome of a parent who had poured out prayer to a Heavenly Father for a child that they shared concern for.  This was the warm welcome and celebration that one who has found their way home longs for, and it was Charity’s to treasure forever.  As the two women, old and young, walked arm and arm out of the rugged, empty chapel, out into the evening, Charity and her mother turned for a moment to look at the church that brought them back together.  The glow of the sunset, gleamed like candles in the dusty windows, and at the top, the sun gleemed off of the metal cross, making it shine with golden warmth.  Charity felt the peace she had longed for bubble over inside her, and knew that although the church had been abandoned and broken down, God had not abandoned it, nor had he abandoned her.

 

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STOP!

Picture borrowed from original link...see link at bottom of post.

After a day of visiting Blogs that are new to me, I was introduced to one that had a post in which I related to the topic of the day very much.  This blog post dealt with Lies, and begged to get the message out to STOP the LIEING!  I agreed with it wholeheartedly, because there is way too much of it happening today, in the news, in politics, in our homes, our soceity, and especially in our government!  People are acting like lieing is just an accepted neccessity in today’s world, as if all lies are just little fibs or white lies.  Let me tell you…there is no little fib, no… just a simple white lie.  All lies are just the same…and in the eyes of God, and they rate the same as murder, adultery, lust, hatred, and every other sin.  If you start a relationship based on lies, it will end quickly based on either more lies, or the uncovering of the original lies.  If you take a job based on lies you told in your interview and on your application, sooner or later you will lose that job when those lies come to light.  In fact, if you tell a lie to cover misuse of taxpayer money, you can bet sooner or later you will answer for it…just look at the latest headlines about the G.S.A and Las Vegas.

A lie even meant in good conscience will eventually cause some hurt.  For instance, I grew up with Santa Claus…no that isn’t a lie…my dad actually played Santa Claus.  So we were taught to share this little lie as if it were the truth.  My one regret was ever pushing that little lie on my own children.  Oh I know there was a St. Nicholas, and indeed he is known for giving to those in need, but the Santa Claus with the 8 reindeer and the elves in the workshop…that we know is a “little fib”…it’s a lie.  You wonder how the hurt comes from this lie.  If you have been a parent who eventually had to tell your children the truth about Santa, you will remember that moment when you told your child and saw the look in their eyes that said “my childhood faith has ended.”  If you didn’t tell them, and allowed them to continue to believe, then you remember that moment when they came home telling you that “Johnny or Jane” were making fun of them because they still believed.  Either way that one little lie hurt them.  I’m not saying you are wrong to let them believe…that is your choice, but if I had to do it over again…I think I would just tell them the truth!  I know that knocking down their beliefs in these myths, no matter how innocent, will actually cause them to question other truths we are trying to instill in them, like the belief in Jesus Christ, who is indeed real and the true Messiah.  But they do begin to wonder what else we lied to them about.  I know I questioned my parents on it.

Another little lie thought to be meant for good, is the “Yes, that looks good on you lie.”   I know that men get stuck with this one often, because they don’t know for sure how to answer a woman who ask, “How does this make me look?”  Personally, tell me the truth.  If I ask if it makes my backside look big, then I want to know the truth so I don’t go out in something that makes my backside look big.  If I ask if it is too short, tell me the truth…’cause I’m way too old to wear mini skirts.  In the same way, you can be honest and avoid saying the wrong thing by looking at the good points of the outfit…like “That green is a good color for your eyes…but that hemline is a wee bit short for this event.”  That is called “tact”.  You aren’t lieing, and you are finding good, even in the bad.

Tact is a loss art form of bygone ages of true ladies and gentlemen.  You didn’t lie, you were kind and found good points to mention to keep from lieing about another.  Being caught in a lie was frowned upon back in those days, and lieing would sully your reputation beyond repair.  Now people relish in the fact that they lie and don’t get caught, even if their conscience eeks at them daily.  And when they are caught lieing, they think the right thing to do is redirect people’s view of them by lieing again.  I often wonder if these same people ever were schooled in the same school system that I grew up in.  Have we all not heard the little ditty…”Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practiced to decieve”?  One lies leads to another, and then to another, and ultimately you have had to lie so much to cover up each progressive lie that you forget half the lies you told, and that is when your web starts getting swept away strand by strand.  Before long you’ve lost your reputation, your loved ones, your support system, your past and your future.  No one trust you, believes you, and ultimately you will have burned so many bridges with your lies that you will find yourself set adrift on the raging, stormy river called life…alone.  You will have no one to blame but yourself, and no one to help you get your reputation and life back.  Even God isn’t just going to go “poof” and help you put it magically into place.  Even in going to the Lord for forgiveness, you will still have so much mending to do that it will take most of the rest of your life.

You see…I’m not trying to say that I don’t do this and so you shouldn’t.  I’m telling you that I know from my own experience.  No, I am not holding a huge lie as a secret.  I don’t have a hidden body in the cellar, or a secret life style that I’m hiding, and no I’m not part of the Illumanati or Skull and Bones Soceity.  I just know that the little lies in my life have sometimes become covered over with other lies, and that I ended up with more regrets than I knew how to deal with by myself.  I wouldn’t want to see others go through the regrets I had because I didn’t warn them of the consequences of lieing.  So…this is from one sinner to another.  Please think twice before you tell that next lie!  It might just be the one that sets your tangled web to unweaving.  It might be the one that causes you the loss of someone in your life that was put there by God to help you, love you, and even carry you through the hard times.

There is one more lie that I want to encourage you to put a stop to.  That is the lie we now call journalism.  I don’t want to put an end to journalism, because true journalism based on true facts and telling the truth is a good thing…and is often what our real History is based on.  I’m talking about this “phony” journalism that is evident on ABC, NBC, CBS, MSNBC, CNN, and yes even on FOX.  It’s the “phony” journalism that is being used in hundreds of newspapers like the New York Times… even our local newspaper is guilty of it.  Unfortunately, even many bloggers are guilty of it as well, because they are painting the truth with a lie to make it favor their side of the political and soceital issues.   This is reporting based on political opinion and not the true facts.  It is filled with lies upon more lies, false polls, false charts, false studies, and pure political leaning and opinion.  And it is WRONG!  It is allowing the truth to be buried so that one person, or one group can get their agenda through.  The bad thing is that it is also being battled with the same tactics.  For a person to know the truth, they need to do their own research, form their own opinions, find the real facts, because you sure aren’t going to get it from people who will do anything for power, fame, or wealth, or a handout so that they don’t have to work.  Before believing every new poll, chart and focus group ask yourself this…when in your lifetime have you been contacted for one of these so called polls, focus groups and such?  I’ve lived 54 years, and I can tell you I’ve never been.  So I question the truth in them, and who they are using to make their point in them.  In the past 8 years I’ve found myself more than once doing hours of research to find the truth on issues, on bills going through Congress and on Candidates.  For someone to think that I’m going to buy their newest lie, is like a fool saying there is no God…it’s going to come back to bite you in the end.  If you stop buying the lies, and do your own research you will find that you are indeed a stronger person, and you will be so grounded in the truth that you won’t be batted around by the latest political lie…and even the latest personal lie told to you.  You will find that you have a firm foundation…and are really planted firmly on a rock that will keep the storms that are raging from battering your stand for the truth.  Until we all STOP, and say “Enough is Enough!”, we will continue to allow these entities fill the world, our government, our schools, churches, newspapers, television news, cable news, and our families with lie upon lie upon lie.

So today, I’m joining with Life Revelation in saying…”STOP LIEING!”  and “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!”  I’m also calling on other bloggers to do the same…to promise to share only the truth and to give a clear message on what is truth and what is fiction.  I’m not talking about you story tellers and authors who make a living writing and telling fiction stories.  I am talking about those who are reporting on issues, on life, and on politics, on current events.  Please hold to the truth in real journalism…report the facts and don’t base your words on lies and any falsehoods!  I challenge my fellow bloggers to join the call to encourage the truth as the only accepted form of journalism and as the way we choose to live and set the example for our children and grandchildren.  I challenge my fellow bloggers to set the standards back to what is real journalism, not the phony baloney that we are being told is the real news on television and in the newspapers.  Let’s take it back to the standards that people like Benjamin Franklin held it to, and not to this propagandist style of literature and gossip that it has become.  If you wish to join us on this please feel free to repost this to your blog and let’s get the message out to the world.  We stand for TRUTH!

Here is the link to the blog that inspired this call for truth…

Before We Go Any Further « LifeRevelation.

 

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The Heartbeat of the House

     My family knows me as the one who roams the house at night and usually the last one to go to sleep.  As a mom I found that it is easier to get things done in the late night hours when the children have made their way to a peaceful dreamland, and my husband begins to warn of his approach to the soveriegn land of sleep with his ever growing snore.  That is often when i write, sew, read, and I always spend time with the Lord, before finally joining my family in the nightly ritual of rest.  To preface this poem, it was just such a night, I sat listening to the sounds of the house as I read to myself.  I remember getting up to check on my daughters, my granddaughter and finally my husband, and hearing their soft sleeping sounds, the clock ticking, and soft breezes blowing through the trees outside that I sat down to write this poem.

The Heartbeat of the House

 

Every house has a heartbeat

That makes the house a home,

And how the heart does beat

Creates warmth or cold stone.

The occupants are who decide

How their heart will beat,

By how they treat each other,

And everyone they meet.

Each human heart gives forth

A message to the home,

Of how the heart should beat,

Like a ticking metronome.

Will it tick softly,

With a calming sense of peace?

Or will its heartbeat race,

As the tension inside does increase?

Every house has a heartbeat,

But does yours make the house a home?

Each occupant’s behavior

Will decide the heartbeat’s tone.

 

By:  Bonita L. Ledzius…Copyright 2005

 

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