There is an "iron artist" in the middle of the rolling countryside of upstate New York. He makes huge welded sculptures from scrap metal. I have seen his sculptures in North Carolina, so he must sell nationwide. His home is across the lake from where my parents owned a lake house. I used to kayak or sail across Little York Lake to his yard to peer at the whimsical statues that adorned his roof and landscape.
On a long, country drive with my parents, we stopped at his gallery. It was closed, but the grounds were covered with his art. What a fun life, to take discarded, rusty metal no one wants and turn it into a treasure.
This is what God does.
He takes us as we are: broken, arrogant, rude, selfish, opportunistic, blasphemous, idolatrous, profane, and immoral people and desires a relationship with us.
“They shall be mine, says the Lord of hosts, in the day when I make up my treasured possession, and I will spare them as a man spares his son who serves him." Malachi 3:17
What an amazing thought! The Creator of the universe wants us to be his treasured possession! This gives me hope that in the end, I will end up traveling the right path. God is at the helm, and if I let Him, He will direct me back to Him.
He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and
acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was
despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs and
carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and
afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for
our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
But Moses said to the Lord, “Oh, my Lord, I
am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your
servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue.” Then the Lord said to him, “Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.”
Of David. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the Lord,
O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your
iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the
pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you
with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. ...
We went on a long bike ride in the morning, with several layers to combat the NY chill. The southern states may think they know what real cold is, but they have NO CLUE. this was considered a WARM autumn morning in upstate NY. I had 5 layers on, gloves, scarf, and hat. Southern winters are fake to anyone from the north.
On our ride, we passed a store with bulldogs as watchdogs. There were several in the store gazing out the window. It took us a while to realize the white one on the right is fake, a statue. The one on the left is a real dog.
We rode for a delightful two hours, and then stopped for lunch at our favorite place. One of the traditions whenever we go to my folks' town is to visit Lupo's, where the most delicious spiedies on earth are made. If you don't know what a spiedie is, you have not lived. And any spiedies other than Lupo's are like that white bulldog statue. They are not the real thing, though a casual diner might be fooled.
Afterwards, we hung out with the parents on my brother's porch on this beautiful day. Dad and brother John always have a traditional cigar. We ladies always plant ourselves upwind. I wish my whole family lived in the same town. We are scattered all over the continent. Whoever thought the easy mobility of the car was a blessing created a double edged sword, in my opinion. It is always wrenching for me to leave the family I grew up with, but I have to, in order to return to the family I acquired.
Life is filled with contrasts. There are so many choices each day. Many will lead us to fake or unsatisfying experiences. Others will lead us to places of love, joy, and contentment. Sometimes the bad choices are disguised as good, some so temptingly real that we are as deceived by them as by the white bulldog.
Satan would like nothing more than to draw us off course, fool us with "broken cisterns that will never hold water" or "purses with holes" that will never contain our wealth. God, on the other hand always gives the only thing of true, real, and lasting value. Himself.
And sometimes zany sisters pretending to be a dalmation....
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For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising
themselves as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for even Satan
disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is no surprise if his
servants, also, disguise themselves as servants of righteousness. Their
end will correspond to their deeds.
This picture showed up on Facebook. It is of me as a little girl, at age ten, in an art class near Memphis. I am the first kid in the picture. One of my older sister's elementary school friends found it, recognized the last name, and asked if it was her! (He didn't realize she had a sister.) I vaguely recall that my parents made sure I had art classes my whole life. I don't remember being in the newspaper however.
My life passions haven't changed much. I loved art, nature, animals, running, biking, and solitude from a very early age. I didn't know God back then, not on a personal level. I suspected He was real, but He was not the center of my life like He is now. In that way, I am a totally different person.
Meanwhile, after this blast from the past, my sister Wendy and I were eating lunch with my folks in their new assisted living facility. The woman at the table with us was our old French teacher. She didn't remember us, and frankly, I didn't remember her, but it was still a sweet coincidence. You can't escape your past. (However, I don't remember much French anymore.)
We brought the folks to their house, which is yet unsold. My brother, John, and lovely wife Jenny came to join us. We all sat around, listening to my parents' stories of the mementos in their home and the significance of each.
Wendy thought of this and recorded it all for us. (GREAT idea, Wendy, and to everyone: well worth doing with your own parents or family.) The past matters so much in who we have become. It reminds us of where we have been, and perhaps guides us in where we should go.
The Bible talks of the past in many passages, and in general, warns us to leave our past behind, particularly the sin that drags us down. However, the past is not to be discarded. As James warns us, to look in a mirror and then go forth and live while forgetting who it is we saw in the mirror is as incomprehensible as following God without knowing what He has told us and who He has been to us in the past. Be no hearer who forgets....
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.
For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man
who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at
himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one
who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres,
being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in
his doing. James 1: 22-25
After our family reminiscing session,Wendy and I went for a long walk to an old favorite haunt, Struble Dam. We remembered how Mom and Dad used to bring their dog, Spots, to that lovely place and we would all hike along the top of the dam, admiring the view.
Each step along the way sparked memories of happy times in our childhood, and then memories of how we had raised our own children. Our past is like anyone's, colored with good and with bad. The incredible miracle of the past is looking back and seeing how it all was a river flowing into the ocean of our present in a clearly designated path that was impossible to see when we were only partway there. Hindsight can create bitterness, but it can also create marvel at the provision and providence of God.
For example, I used to hate Wendy and try to claw her eyes out with my strong, unchewed fingernails. Now look at us, remembering the past with gladness over who we had become. God has a way of bringing us to an unexpected place, but there is beauty in it. One can't dwell in the past, and remain a child, spiritually or emotionally, but when moving forward, remember how God was always the unseen presence weaving a magnificent tapestry that is not yet done.
My haircut is pretty much the same as when I was ten, however. Be no hearer who forgets. *************
Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one
thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what
lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call
of God in Christ Jesus.
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed,
we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in
the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly
dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For
while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we
would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what
is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this
very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. ...
When I was helping my parents move into their apartment in an Assisted Living Manor a couple of months ago, my Mom told me a story I had never heard before. She was 17-years-old, graduating from high school, and going off to college. Her three best friends bought her a hand-shaped compact as a graduation and goodbye gift. She loved the beautiful, unusual compact. She told me about it, describing it's little fingers, the oval mirror inside, and the small powder section.
She had showed some people at her cafeteria table the beautiful compact, which she had only had a short time. She could not get over how lovely it was, and how much it meant to her that those three good friends had bought it for her. Then she put it in her purse. She grabbed her wallet from her purse, and left the table briefly to buy lunch. When she sat back down with her lunch, and returned the wallet to her purse, the compact was gone! Horrified, she knew the girl sitting next to her (a famous singer's sister) must have taken the compact.
She begged the girl to give her back her compact. My mom is gentle and shy, and it must have taken every ounce of courage to ask the girl to return the compact. The girl refused. The girl's sister walked by, and asked what the problem was. Mom explained what had happened, and even the sister pleaded with the girl to return the compact. Mom was in tears by now, telling the thief that the compact was not of monetary value, but of great emotional value. Still, the girl refused to give Mom back her compact. Imagine that -- 65 years later, Mom still remembered sadly the theft of that compact which had meant so much to her.
When I got home from NY, I googled "hand shaped compact from 1940s". I got several hits. Picture after picture of lovely hand-shaped compacts. They all looked exactly the same, so I knew they must be identical to the compact Mom had owned. The few I saw for sale were $300. I then contacted my sister Amy who solves anything thrown at her, and told her I needed her to find me a hand-shaped compact from the 1940s, and I was willing to pay up to $50.
Amy wrote back instantly. She found a hand-shaped compact on E-bay auction right at that moment, and the auction closed in four hours. The bid was currently $15. I had never bid on E-bay before. Amy instructed me not to bid till the last minute and then bid fast and furiously in the last few seconds before the auction closed.
For the next four hours, I chomped on my nails, and watched for any bids on the compact. No one was bidding. Everyone was apparently waiting for the last minute. In a fit of impatience, I bid $16 with 5 minutes to go. I was the high bidder. In the closing minute, someone outbid me. In the last second, I squeezed in a final bid of $23. What heart thumping excitement when I saw "Congratulations, you have the winning bid."
Now, I had known this compact was not in "perfect condition" like the $300 compacts I had seen. The brass was rubbed away in spots, the clasp didn't work, and the little mirror was gone. Still, I was ecstatic. I wrote to the seller, and told him the story. He was as happy as I was that I had won the auction.
The compact arrived two days later in the mail. As I breathlessly unwrapped it, I decided I would refurbish the compact as perfectly as I could. My Mom was still mourning the theft of her compact 65 years later. Maybe I could right one small wrong in the world.
First I took the compact to a jeweler. "Can you fix this clasp?"
The jeweler examined it. "Doubtful. I would have to send it to my shop in New York city, and they might be able to, but this is very old, and they would have to take it all apart and somehow find the same sized piece. And to gild the gold again to restore the finish...it would be $300."
All the jewelers I showed it to told me the same sad story.
Then I went searching for a tiny mirror to replace the lost mirror. I found drugstore compacts with little round mirrors, but no oval mirrors like I needed. I called several glass/mirror companies. No one could do a job so small. Finally, after two days of store hopping and calls, I found one willing and able to cut a small thin mirror. They even glued it securely in place. $8.
That done, a brainstorm swirled into my head. I brought the compact to "the watch doctor" in our local mall. Pocket watches have clasps. Maybe the watch doctor could fix my clasp! He told me he wasn't sure but he would try. He could not do it in an hour, like most of his repairs. "Leave it with me, and come back tomorrow. I will do my best."
I returned the next day. He handed me the compact with a fixed clasp! $15.
Next, I found an old picture of my mom, from the 40s. The photo was of her during the time when she was just entering college. She was a total hottie, a gorgeous woman. She always has been, and still is.
I went to Walgreens with the photo and asked them to help me size it and print it to fit on the little section opposite the mirror inside the compact. A wonderful saleswoman helped me, completely invested in my project when I told her what it was for. Soon, I had a little photograph just the right size for my compact. I brought it home, and decoupaged it into the inside of the compact opposite the mirror.
Next, I called sister Amy again. How could I possibly restore the beautiful gold luster to the old compact? I could not afford gold plating, but surely, there was something I could do. Amy sent me links for gold gilding paint at local stores. I bought the paint, as well as new brushes, and carefully painted the compact. It took five coats to cover all the brush strokes, and each coat had to dry a full hour before the next coat could be applied. This was an all day project. Then I carefully repainted the fingernails with red enamel. Paint cost: $4.
I could not believe how lovely and perfect the completed compact looked. Total cost: $50. It looked just as beautiful as the $300 compacts I had seen when I first began my search.
No way could I just mail it to Mom. I would plan another visit to NY, and soon. I wanted to give it to her myself, and see her face when she opened my gift. With perfect timing, Sister Wendy from Seattle planned a visit to my folks. I met her in Baltimore, where she flew in for a conference, and drove her up to NY. She was the one who filmed the video of Mom opening the compact.
Mom's gasp when she saw the compact was worth every second spent in this incredible God-bathed journey. Unfortunately, in the original telling of her story, she had somehow forgotten to include the detail that her stolen compact was blue. However, other than that, it was just like the one she had 65 years ago. A small wrong was righted.
Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”says the Lord. Romans 12:17-19
But all this I laid to heart, examining it all, how the righteous
and the wise and their deeds are in the hand of God. Whether it is love
or hate, man does not know; both are before him.
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I
will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my
righteous right hand.
I arrived before my sister Wendy. She had arranged a "wonderful" "private" bed and breakfast for us to stay at right near the Baltimore airport. I would pick her up when she flew in, we would spend the night, and go on to my folks this morning.
I don't like bed and breakfast places. They are too intimate for me with strangers, and I am an introvert. Making small talk when I just want to be left alone to recharge is not my idea of a vacation. Anyway, I checked in to the B and B since Wendy wasn't due in for a couple of hours.
The lovely and kind owner showed me an expansive basement apartment, all to ourselves. As she showed me the bathroom, she said, "I just finished cleaning this. I like to clean the bathroom between guests. I'm funny that way."
Funny that way? I wondered if cleaning bathrooms between guests was unusual for bed and breakfasts. And then she mentioned the closed door in this basement apartment was for a man who would be back later.
A strange man? In our "wonderful" "private" B and B?
"Will he be sharing the bathroom?" I asked politely, images of slitting Wendy's throat rising in my normally pacifist mind.
"Yes, but he is out really early in the morning."
Needless to say, I cowered all night in my "wonderful" "private" bed and breakfast...having to go to the bathroom desperately but NO WAY was I going to come across a totally strange man in the middle of the night to fight over the commode.
The saving grace was that this B and B has chickens. The lovely and kind owner let us hold them. Wendy was freaking out a bit, but I enjoyed it. And forgive me. Lord for wanting them to peck her eyes out over that "wonderful" and "private" bit of propaganda.
So God is setting the stage. Sometimes the paths we are asked (forced) to travel are not familiar or in our comfort zone. They may not be to our liking and may require faith that in the end, all will be well...or at least, there will be soft chickens to cuddle.
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you
will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put
on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at
the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than
they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his
span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the
lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I
tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of
these. ...
On my way to NY, but first stop is the gorgeous city of Richmond to see my son and his wife. I arrived early enough that I could wander along the James River, which was spectacular after the hurricane rains. Then, I returned to the hotel with hopes of editing book #3 of my Joe- The Horse Nobody Loved series.
Alas, my computer would not let me access the hotel internet, claiming it was not a trusted source. I have gotten that message before, but it went on to say (paraphrasing) "Did you notice the site did not ask for your room number and pass code? Someone is pretending to be us and will steal every penny from all your accounts if you bypass this warning. Do not do so!"
I called the front desk who sent up two "engineers." They were the hotel mechanics, I think, but they were two very nice young men. They were quite honest in saying they had no clue what this unusual warning meant. They gave me the number of the computer folks (IT) for the hotel, who quickly gave me a safe pass code, and I was all set to work on my book. The engineers waited, to be sure my problem was solved before they left.
"What kind of work do you do?" asked the engineers.
"I'm an author," I said, "Want a bookmark?"
I gave them each a bookmark, which I have with me since I will be doing a talk on one of my books in NY at my folk's assisted living center. The bookmarks have my picture, and photos of a bunch of my books, along with my Amazon Author web site. The engineers were ecstatic. I showed them the book (Joe) that is currently #1. They asked me to sign their bookmarks, and told me they planned to buy my books as gifts for their horse-loving relatives.
They told me they felt like they were in the presence of greatness. I was tickled to death over their exuberant excitement. We all shook hands, and they left, clutching their signed bookmarks. I would not be the one to dissuade them of that notion of being with a star. It seemed to make them feel even better than it made me feel to be regarded as one.
It takes so little to make a day joyful. Sadly the reverse is true as well. When there are important parts of life out of whack, Satan brings them to mind and works overtime to steal our joy. I am trying very hard to fight the tendency to dwell in those areas, because I do not desire to give the devil victory in my life. However, some blows are hard to withstand, and I still find myself, despite my best intentions crying out, "Not this too, O Lord! Couldn't I have just had this?" Doubt creeps in along with discouragement.
Charles Spurgeon said, Our heavenly Father sends us frequent troubles to try our faith. If our faith be worth anything, it will stand the test... It is a poor faith which can only trust God when friends are true, the
body full of health, and the business profitable; but that is true faith
which holds by the Lord's faithfulness when friends are gone, when the body is sick, when spirits are depressed, and the light of our Father's
countenance is hidden. A faith which can say, in the direst trouble,
"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him," is heaven-born faith.
With this in mind, I faced the new day. The sun rose and I looked out from the 17th floor window of my hotel over my son's apartment building, and his beautiful city. I prayed for him, a sweet and gentle joy in my life, and for his dear wife. Both treated me with much love and kindness when I saw them last night. I will dwell there, nursing my heaven-born faith.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know
what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us
with groanings too deep for words.
I love this photo, because I think I could pass for someone who knows how to golf. The blessing of a still photo is you don't see what happens 3 seconds later. Frozen moments in time do not tell the real story. In this case, the frozen moment presents a false positive impression. In my Bible study today, the frozen moment presented a false negative.
Jeremiah the prophet, is sent by God to prophesy to His people who have turned from Him. Judah proclaims her innocence, but God chastises Judah, with her false prophets and idols that Judah has turned to and believed. There is much weeping and gnashing of teeth, and the people are angry with Jeremiah because of his true prophecies of God's displeasure and punishment. It is classic shoot the messenger mentality.
Jeremiah suffers mightily for proclaiming God's truth. He is scourged, ridiculed, maligned and hated, imprisoned, dumped into a deep muddy pit with a stone placed over its mouth...and seemingly, his words fall on deaf ears. Poor Jeremiah cries out to God with understandable despair: Alas, my mother, that you gave me birth,a man with whom the whole land strives and contends! I have neither lent nor borrowed,yet everyone curses me.
This is poor Jeremiah's moment frozen in time. His ministry seems useless, and he has suffered for many years doing what he knows God has called him to do. He was ultimately saved from the deep muddy pit, but he never saw the fulfillment of God's restoration of His people.
Yet, God promises Jeremiah that it will happen. He tells him, “Restrain your voice from weepingand your eyes from tears, for your work will be rewarded,” declares the Lord. God tells him of the new covenant that will be poured out upon all people, fulfilling in a big way the hopes of Jeremiah.
“This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel after that time,” declares the Lord. “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.
No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’ because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest,” declares the Lord. “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.”
One of my favorite verses in the whole book, is when Jeremiah is given this message and vision by God of what the unseen future holds, and he responds:
At this I awoke and looked around. My sleep had been pleasant to me.
I hate that Jeremiah had such a difficult life when he was striving so hard to obey God. It is not fair if all we are given is our life on Earth. But clearly, that is not all we are given, and our sojourn on Earth is just a moment frozen in time of a limitless eternity. One day, all will be made right. It makes me glad that Jeremiah already is receiving his reward. This gives me hope when I am frozen in a false negative.
While I love the verse reminding me that Jeremiah had a moment of comfort, my favorite verse in the book of the "weeping prophet Jeremiah" is this: For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11
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I will be off on another jaunt to help my folks in NY starting today, so be forewarned that there may be several times over the next two weeks without a new blog post. In the meantime, bask in God's unlimited love, and the hope and future He has planned for you.
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Speaking of another moment in time, check out this screen shot! Joe- The Horse Nobody Loved, which is free one last day is #1 Horse book, #5 Non-fiction in all of Amazon, and #49 best seller of all free books on Amazon! Best ranks any book of mine has achieved.
