Let Us Remember . . .

Psalm 77:11
I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.

Call us Mr. and Mrs. Scrooge, but for the last two Christmases, my husband, Danny, and I have neglected to put up a tree.  Sure, we faithfully hang Advent calendars, place the Nativity scene in its usual corner and the Advent wreath on the table, hang up the stockings, and display our two garlands of greenery:  one adorns our mantelpiece; the other is suspended from the ceiling between the dining area and the kitchen.  (The latter, unfortunately, has gone missing from our Christmas stash in the garage.  We are at a loss as to what has become of it, so resign ourselves to its absence.)

But, no tree.  Because, we reason, as our children are grown and don't particularly care about one, and our granddaughter, Virginia Rose, is too young to appreciate or remember a Christmas tree, why go to all that trouble?  This year, though, as Virginia turned four last July, we know she will be so excited about the sparkly lights and decorations, we actually can't wait to put it up!

As we celebrated Thanksgiving with family the Saturday before, we plan to have Virginia over Thanksgiving Day so she can help decorate the Christmas tree.  I purposely select ornaments which haven't adorned our tree in forever, but which are unbreakable, for Virginia to place on the lower limbs which are easily within her reach.  She does a great job!

She is so proud of herself!

I notice when Virginia finishes her task, her eyes are darting around the rest of the living room, taking in all the Christmas displays.  As she heads for the kitchen where her Papa is fixing a mini-Thanksgiving lunch, Virginia stops dead in her tracks.  She points to the ceiling where last year's garland should be hanging.

"Where's that one?"  Virginia asks.  Danny and I are dumbfounded!  That was a year ago!  She was only three!  How does she possibly remember that?

Still reeling with the shock of Virginia's amazing memory, we explain why the garland isn't there and assure her we will continue looking for it.  And, in that brief moment, it dawns on me.  Had we taken the time to put up the Christmas tree last year, Virginia would have appreciated and recalled it so much more than we realized.

And, that memory would be indelibly burned in her mind's eye . . .

~

What is your earliest childhood memory?

Prayer:  Father, let us remember your deeds and your miracles of long ago.  Seal them not just in our minds, but in our hearts.  As we traverse this season of Advent, may we reflect both upon the birth of Your Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord and Savior, and upon Your promise that He will come again in glory.  In Jesus' precious name, we pray.  Amen.

Oh! The Majestic Light!

Psalm 8:1
Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!  You have set your glory in the heavens.

It's Sunday morning.  I awaken conscious of the fact I don't feel rested.  It doesn't matter.  We have contemporary service to lead today.  I must roll out of the all-too-comfortable bed and embrace the day.

As I don slippers and robe, I hear it.  A steady rain is falling outside, tempting me in the worst way to snuggle back under the covers and slip into the land of soothing sleep.  Instead, I sigh and head for the kitchen to brew coffee.  I glance at the clock - 6:45.  I'll have to rouse Danny no later than seven.

I pour my morning glass of water, start the coffee, turn on my computer, and shuffle to the French doors to assess the grayness of this bleak day.  Yes, in my head, I know we need this rain, but in my heart, I long for sunshine.  My thoughts drift back to our recent time spent at the cabin, and I find myself missing the beautiful, if cold, weather we experienced there.

As I gaze at our deck, so pristine yesterday for our family gathering, now smothered in a damp carpet of fallen leaves, I grieve my tedious efforts to sweep it clear when obstacles have once again reared their taunting heads.

"Ouch!  Ow!"

"Danny?"  I respond in alarm as his voice infused with jagged pain pierces the silence of the house.  I am sprinting, emergency lights flashing in my mind, for the bedroom.  "What's wrong?"

"It's my back," he groans.  "It's gone out and hurts like the devil!  Why now?  Why, on Sunday when we need to lead worship?"

"Because the devil sees an opportunity," I tell him, "but we're not going to let him take it.  Don't we have those pain-relievers your dentist prescribed for your upcoming surgery?  Get some of those in you, take your shower, and I'll fetch the back brace."

With great difficulty, Danny manages to get cleaned up and dressed with my aid.  My heart breaks to see him in so much pain.  It's been years since his back has acted up, and that has been a blessing.  But of all days and times to do so?  I'm sending up lots of prayers as I try to make Danny as comfortable as he can be for the time being, asking the Lord to help Danny get through the Sunday service.

God, in His endless love and grace, provides.  Danny makes it through worship with flying colors.  But as we exit the church with the rain still pouring down, I note the strain and weariness on his face, and know I will need to wait on him, hand and foot, gladly, to ease the discomfort and make the rain in his back go away.

Our afternoon into early evening is touch and go.  The outside gloom reflects the discomfort of a persistent ache, a dreariness of the soul when pain-killers and heating pads and back braces can't fully assuage Danny's ailment.  I am consumed with concern for him.

Then, just as the sun is preparing to set, the rain ceases and the clouds recede.  The light!  Oh, the majestic light which appears, unbidden, upon the horizon!  God's glory is saturating the heavens with unbridled hope.  In spite of his condition, Danny grabs his camera and captures these wondrous photos.

Tomorrow, God promises.  Tomorrow is a brand new day full of My love, My healing, My joy, My grace.

We believe it.

We receive it.

And both Danny and I have a restful night's sleep . . .

~

When has God taken your rainstorms and turned them into sunshine?

Prayer:  Father, thank You for the tough and trying times which may make us sad and weary in the moment, but which lead us, with more open minds and hearts, to Your healing and comfort.  Help us to not miss the miracles and beauty You offer to us daily in the most ordinary things.  Let us daily praise You for Your love and grace which You lavish upon us.  In Jesus' name, we pray.  Amen.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Psalm 100:4-5
Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name.  For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.

From our house to yours:

Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Cloud 8

Job 37:16
Do you know how the clouds hang poised, those wonders of him who has perfect knowledge?

My husband, Danny, and I recently spend five glorious days in the Nantahala Mountains of North Carolina.  Since we visit these mountains which abut the Great Smokies twice a year, finding a new cabin with a stunning view is becoming more challenging.  This fall, it is even more so as we wait until the proverbial last minute to make reservations.  Although it is larger than we need, our cabin, Cloud 8, proves to be the perfect choice.

And the view?  Could we ask for anything better than this?

As perfect as the cabin is, we take advantage of clear skies to do some exploring in the Smokies.  We head for Clingman's Dome, the second highest peak in the eastern United States, rising 6,643 feet above sea level, placing us a mile and a 1/4 higher than the shore line.  I can tell you, my ears pop fast and furiously along our journey as our Subaru navigates the not so gradual incline and hairpin turns which distract my eyes from the scenery I could be drinking in at the moment.

Most folks who visit Clingman's Dome walk up the sinuous, paved walkway to enjoy a breathtaking view of the Smoky Mountains.  In spite of this being the off-season, many tourists are doing just that.

I recall visiting the tower with my family when I was about ten.  It was awesome to me then, but Danny has long know about a different trail, one which we choose to take today.  It is one I haven't hiked in over eight years, and I'm agreeable only because I've conveniently forgotten how rough and rocky it is to traverse

I may look like a happy camper in this photo, but I'm anything but.  I'm having difficultly getting and keeping my footholds in spite of the sturdy hiking boots I'm wearing.  More than once, Danny has to give me a hands-up so my short legs can attain the next ledge.  I'm growing weary of painstakingly picking my way along the rugged path, and I'm uncharacteristically short of breath, probably because we are hiking at a more than mile-high elevation.  It's only a half-mile walk, yet I feel as thought I've attempted a marathon.

Danny offers encouragement.  "You can do this.  When you get to the top, the view will be worth every step you've taken."

"I sure hope you're right," I grunt, not wanting to go one more step forward, but for Danny's sake and his excitement about seeing the ridge once again, I press on.

As we approach the ridge top at long last, we hear the wind sighing through the bent and stunted trees growing there.  Knowing we're almost there infuses me with an unexpected surge of energy.  I clamber up after Danny as quickly as I can, and when I reach the summit, this is what meets my eyes.

The clouds hang poised . . .

We have ascended from Cloud 8 to Cloud 9.

And, we are rendered speechless before the wondrous majesty of God.

~

When have you been awed by God's magnificent creation?

Prayer:

Father, Your world reveals the mighty works of Your hands.  We thank You for the glory which is Your creation.  May we live in awe of Your wonders each and every day.  In Jesus' name, amen.

Lord, Make Firm My Steps

Psalm 37:23-24
The Lord makes firm the steps
of the one who delights in him;
though he may stumble, he will not fall,
for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

Maybe it's the caution which comes with growing older, but lately, I find myself with Iphone affixed to my belt, not just when I'm out and about in my car, but when I'm home alone.  And I'm home by myself frequently.  With stepson, Giovanni, working full-time and husband, Danny, at work downtown, I know there is no one close by to come to my aid should an unforeseen mishap occur.

I become acutely aware of this need to have-cell-phone-will-travel when Danny leaves on a Sunday for a meeting in Phoenix, and Giovanni is miles away visiting with his girlfriend.  I am truly isolated!  If, in my umpteenth trips up and down our staircase to tend to laundry and other chores, I find myself, in the words of that infamous commercial, to have "fallen, and I can't get up," how would I call for help if my phone is not on my person?

While taking precautions regarding physical protection is wise and sensible, I can't help but feel a bit sheepish when I read these verses from Psalm 37.  If the Lord makes firm the steps of those who delight in Him, which I do without reservation, should I even entertain such a worry in the first place?  Oh, yes!  I could stumble, especially when lugging a wet and unwieldy basket of washed clothes up the stairs and out to our deck to be hung on the line.  But where is my faith?  Won't the Lord uphold me with His hand?

Yes, I know.  I'm placing a literal spin on a metaphorical example of God's unfailing love and protection for all His children.  He who delights in us will ever save us when we stumble in sin.  Jesus will not let us fall into that abyss, but will catch us at the brink and place us, once again, onto the path of righteousness for His name's sake.

God will make firm our steps when we choose to follow Jesus.

God will bless us when we delight in Him.

He will love us, though we stumble, and not let us fall.

We can rest assured, cellphone ready or not, that the Lord upholds us with His powerful and omnipresent hand.

~

When you stumble, can you trust in the Lord to uphold you?

Prayer:  Dear Father, let us ever delight in You that You might make our steps firm and our purpose to spread the Good News of Your Kingdom foremost in our hearts and minds.  When we stumble as imperfect children, may we always recall that You are right there beside us, ready to pick us up, brush us off, and set us upon the right path You have laid before us.  Make firm our steps!  All this we pray in Jesus' name.  Amen.

"Mr. Postman, Look and See. Is There a Letter in Your Bag for me?"

Thessalonians 5:27
I charge you before the Lord to have this letter read to all the brothers and sisters.

My daughter, Sarah, has been teaching our granddaughter, Virginia Rose, her letters and numbers for a few months now.  Although Virginia isn't technically reading yet, this practice of spelling out words under her mother's guidance will certainly accelerate the process.

To make these exercises more fun and personal, Sarah has Virginia pen two letters:  one to my mother, Nana, and the other to my husband, Danny's, mother, Nonna.  (Yes, Virginia gets confused at times since the grandmothers' monikers sound so much alike.)  This is the result of the letter to my mother.

I have to tell you, I am truly impressed by Virginia's penmanship at age four, and that she knows her lower case as well as upper!  And, of course, you can imagine how thrilled Nana and Nonna are to receive such a special written note from their great-granddaughter.  It is refrigerator magnet display in both their houses!

~

At her marvelous blog, In Search of Tree Stars, my friend since high school, Pam Stevens, recently posts about the dying art of letter writing.  You can read her reflection in its entirety here, and I highly recommend that you do!  What Pam shares about the treasure trove of letters she rediscovers, notes and reflections from dear loved ones who have since passed, touches me deeply.  Makes me want to dig through the countless folders of correspondence my mother has collected over the years.  To reconnect with a past long gone, but one I still carry in my heart.

And, I have these thoughts:  What would the early church have looked like without Paul's letters?  For that matter, what would our lives as Christians in the 21st century be like if our New Testament failed to contain them?  And, imagine this:  Had there been today's technology available to 1st century Christians, would Paul have used e-mail to send his missives?

Would the early followers of The Way dutifully printed them out to share with their community?  Or, God forbid, would a disgruntled member whom Paul chastised simply hit the delete button? >shudder<!  Would Paul have a blog where he posted his letters?  What if he just tweeted them?  Or, took a selfie of his poor soul in prison?

Where would we be???

Sadly, as Pam notes, the hand-written letter seems to be going the way of the Dodo bird.  Unless we consciously and conscientiously write a memoir of our lives for our children and grandchildren, it is unlikely our voice will be heard in their lives after we're gone.

While tweets and Facebook blurbs, texting and e-mail drops are quick and efficient in the moment, they, unlike the old-fashioned letter, will not endure.

A bloom in the moment.  Chaff in the wind.

Is that where our legacy lies?

~

When was the last time you sent a hand-written letter to a friend or loved one?  When was the last time Mr. Postman delivered one to you?

Prayer:  Father, we thank You for the letters of Paul to the early church which continue, generations later, to convey Christ's teaching and encourage us to pursue Your righteousness in our thoughts, words and deeds.  May our own lives, lived in Your name, leave a legacy of faith, hope and love to the generations which follow us.  It is in Jesus' name, we pray.  Amen.

Here is the link to the Mr. Postman song.  Hope you will listen and enjoy!

PLEASE NOTE:  Meditations of My Heart will be on hiatus next week.  Please come back to visit on Tuesday, November 18th for a brand new post.  Blessings, everyone!

"I Will Sing, Sing a New Song . . ."

Psalm 96:1
Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.  Sing to the Lord, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day.  Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.

If you have followed Meditations of My Heart for any length of time, most likely you know that my husband, Danny, and I help lead contemporary worship at our church every Sunday.  He and I both love to sing, and we are blessed with voices (his, tenor, mine alto) which blend and harmonize in tandem.  Praising the Lord in song is, hands down, our favorite way to worship.

When my granddaughter, Virginia Rose, visits me last week, we engage in many activities together, her favorite, as I've mentioned before, being Crazy Sand.

But, this day, Virginia spies her wooden blocks in the play closet and asks me to retrieve them for her.  It's been ages since she's asked for these, and I am happy they are finally getting some use.

I dump them on the floor for her, eagerly anticipating what she will create.  Virginia asks me to help, but I tell her I want to see what she can first do on her own.  And, wow!  Am I amazed by her skills!

"I did it, Gammie!"  Virginia proudly proclaims.

"Yes, honey, you did," I assure her.  "I'm impressed!"

Her joy overflowing, Virginia, to my surprise and delight, breaks into a spontaneous song she makes up as she goes along, all about how much she loves her cat, Henry, and her puppy, Spring.

And, as I witness her reveling and rejoicing with each note she sings, I think: This is what it means to sing to the Lord a new song, to praise His name and proclaim His salvation.  To sing from the heart, not just the mind, with gratefulness, spontaneity, passion, and unbridled joy!

When the next Sunday rolls around, I envision the image of the celebrating Virginia before I open my mouth to sing the first note.  I place myself in her shoes, a child rejoicing in the presence of her Father, and sing to Him a new song, one which swells from my heart and mind, soul and strength.

Engaged.  Inspired.  Present.  Infused with the Holy Spirit.

I worship!

~

What is your favorite way to worship the Lord?

Prayer:  Father, we thank You for all the ways You give us to worship You.  Whether we feel closest to you when we read and meditate on Your Word, go to you in prayer, or offer songs of praise and thanksgiving, may we do so with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength.  In the precious name of Jesus, we pray, amen.

If you would like to listen to "As it is in Heaven" from which the title for this blog was taken, please click here.  Our Crossroads band would love your feedback!