Rambling Thursdays

“May your trials be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing views.” Edward Abbey

We’re going on vacation in a few weeks, and it will be the first time in a car in at least five years. I can see the puzzled look on your face as you try to figure that one out. 

It’s true. We haven’t driven a car on vacation for a long time. Okay, I won’t keep you in suspense anymore. We’ve rode a Harley Davidson on our vacations, and I lived to tell about it! 

The quote at the beginning of this blog reminds me of these adventures. We’ve had some great times and I will never forget them. 

We’ve been to Memphis, (BBQ of course), Niagara Falls, Osarks of Arkansas, the deep south, and a couple of trips to southern Indiana. 

A vacation on a motorcycle is an adventure. But there can be perils beyond your control. Oh the sights, smells and the wind are invigorating. But we’ve felt rain pelting our faces like bb’s. We’ve crept along in stalled traffic, sun roasting us alive. And to add to our riding pleasure, dressed like Eskimos while riding in a 30 degree cold snap in May. 

And what to pack, and how and where to pack it?? Let me just show you this lovely picture to give you an idea of what you are up against...

Now imagine trying to fit this in a motorcycle. You get the idea. 

Okay, maybe I am dramatizing just a bit. But in Louisiana a sweet older woman had a shocked look on her face when we told her we traveled from Indiana. “You packed everything you need on this little ole bike?” 

Yes, we are magicians in our day jobs. And we did pack for a week’s trip in three compartments the size of cereal boxes.  No, not really. But let me tell you, it can leave that impression as you try to stuff that souvenir in, cause you just had to have it!

Needless to say, you pack light. And forget bringing anything back home! It’s all part of the adventure, okay? Take pictures!

Anyway, what a pleasure it will be to cruise in a climate controlled car. Raining? Roll the windows up. Heat? Crank up the air. And Hallelujah, I can bring home plenty of souvenirs! And shoes! I can pack more shoes! 

As you can tell, I am positively giddy about this trip. 

Are you planning a vacation? Ever took one on a motorcycle? 

Let the Weary Rest. Pt 2

I’ve been reading a most remarkable book that has taken me by surprise. “Stepping Heavenword” by Elizabeth Prentiss. It was written in the 1800’s, but the character’s struggles are so relevant to my own today. 

Early in the book, the main character Katy shares her deepest struggles  with her Pastor, “If you only knew what a dreadful creature I am. I am angry with myself, and angry with everybody, and angry with God. I can’t be good two minutes at a time. I do everything I do not want to do, and do nothing I try and pray to do. Everybody plagues me and tempts me. And God does not answer any of my prayers, and I am just desperate.”

Her Pastor answers, “All you say may be true, But God loves you. He loves you.”

She responds, “He loves me. If I could believe that. If I could believe that after all the promises I have broken, all the foolish, wrong things I have done and shall always be doing, God perhaps still loves me.” 

“You may be sure of it”, he says, “Go home and say over and over to yourself, I am a wayward foolish child. But He loves me. I have lost faith in some of my dearest friends and am very desolate. But He loves me. I do not love Him. I am even angry with Him. But He loves me.”

I knelt to pray and all my childish wicked life came and stared me in the face. I looked at it and said with tears of joy, but He loves me. Never in my life did I feel so rested, so quieted, so sorrowful and yet so satisfied. 

Wow! Does it stir you like it did me? Do you work so hard to please Him, to earn His favor? When you fail, (and you will), do you feel as though He is hugely disappointed and can never truly love you? 

I know I struggle with the same strivings and failings as you do. Usually I flog myself for awhile and then He lifts up my downturned chin and assures me that He loves me. It’s the same stupid pattern, yet I replay it. 

And then there is the temptation to appear as if I have it all together. I don’t dare show that I’m weak and broken. So I work hard to impress you. And what is ironic about it, is that you struggle in the same way. Yet, we work hard to maintain the “perfect” status. 

Do you see any rest in all of this striving? No I don’t either. All of our strivings, workings and positioning accomplish nothing and leave us lifeless and barren. 

Truthfully the work has already been done. Jesus finished it once and for all by His work on the cross. I read something recently about rest that stirred my spirit. 

When God finished His great creation work, He said it was good and He rested. To paraphrase, He said, “It’s done. I’ve finished the work. Now my creation can rest in my work, i.e. my beautiful world I made. I’ve given them everything they need and more importantly they have perfect fellowship with Me.” 

Not only was it finished, but it was very good. 

When Jesus said “it is finished” on the cross, the work for our salvation and deliverance was done. And oh, it is so good! 

We look at His work, what has been given to us: The robe of righteousness,   so perfect and flawless. Like the coat of many colors made for the favored son Joseph. We are His favored sons and daughters. It is so very good. 

“As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our sins from us”.  He remembers it no more. Oh “Let the redeemed say so!”

I have peace with God. I am free from condemnation, guilt and shame. He has accomplished this great work. Let us rest in this great work. 

I am beloved of the Father, adopted, an heir of the promises of God. preserved by His grace. Oh, let us rest in His finished work!

I am rejoicing now as I’m writing this. Oh it just stirs my spirit. And I beseech you to let it get into your spirit. 

“You have this hope as an anchor for your soul”. You can settle in His finished work. The Word is your resting place. You are secure. Nothing or no one can snatch you out of His hand. It doesn’t matter what your past was. 

Are you ready beloved, to finally rest?

 

Rambling Thursdays

Perhaps you heard the inspirational story about the woman who requested to be buried with a fork in her hand. When she informed her Pastor of her funeral plans, naturally he was puzzled. 

She explained, "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main courses were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, "Keep your fork." It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance! So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, "What's with the fork?" Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork. The best is yet to come." 

I loved this story, it made me smile and warmed my heart. Especially since I love any desserts, but cake is my first love.  My husband is a pie eater. I like it, but I love cake. Cake and ice cream together are even better. 

I’m also an experienced potluck dinner connoisseur. My church does these dinners quite often. The dessert/food ratio is vital at these dinners. An even amount of both is ideal, but there are times when dessert outnumbers the food. And you know, nobody complains! I don’t know about you, but to run short on desserts would be a calamity. 

I remember as a kid when not having dessert after a meal would definitely  be a calamity. Every dinner or supper was followed by cake, pie, or cookies. And there would usually be ice cream coupled with them. And then  we washed it all down with pop! And oh, the quarrels between my brother and I over the portion of our pieces! 

I shudder now when I think of indulging in such a way now. Oh I might treat myself now and then, but generally I don’t indulge anymore. Now it’s fruit, pudding or applesauce. Hey, I have to keep up my girlish figure, okay? 

I didn’t think about such things as calories or my waistline back then. 

But I do love my cake. Did I tell you that? My husband won my heart in a big way a year ago on my birthday, when he had a chocolate cake made for me. Forget flowers! I had cake everyday of my birthday week and loved every bite! 

So if you were to tell me, “Keep your fork”, you would most definitely see me grin in anticipation. And if you brought me a piece of cake, you’d be my friend forever. 

So what favorite dessert is yours?

Let the Weary Rest

If I asked you, “Do you need rest?” I’m pretty sure you’d say “You know it sister!” I’m sure we would all respond in the affirmative wouldn’t we?

But if I probed a little deeper and asked, “Do you need rest in your spirit? Are you soul weary? Do you yearn for peace in your mind and spirit? Rest from temptations that torment? Rest from carrying that heavy burden you been lugging around?” 

No doubt some of you would probably look up at me and say, “Deb, I’ve been struggling, and yearn for rest and peace. I haven’t known rest for a long time.” 

I get that. I’ve been there. Lately it seems as though the “cares of life” have amped up a notch. I need that rest very badly.

It seems as though we can’t escape it sometimes. Life is full of distractions and cares that pull at us and suck the life out of us. If we let it, it can batter us into submission. Kind of like being in the ring with a relentless boxer. 

I had the privilege of seeing Muhammad Ali in person. He used to live not all that far from us and he regularly visited a local mall with his family. 

We happened to be there when he walked by with his family. I was struck at how large he was. He was one big dude! 

His jabs were lightening quick. During a boxing match, he’d quickly snap that jab in the opponent’s face. It didn’t look like much on TV, but it packed a punch!  He would jab the opponent repeatedly and when the opponent was softened enough, he would throw a heavy hook and pow! Down he would go. 

That’s exactly what the cares of life do to us. They jab and nip at us over and over. It’s a slow damage. Like being in a ring with Ali everyday. If we allow ourselves to succumb to these jabs, it’s not long before we are weakened and battered.

This is how I’ve been feeling lately. Kind of battered and weary. Have you been struggling too? 

Is there a place we can go to for rest? Do we have to get pulled daily into the ring of cares? Will the cares and hassles of our lives ever cease to be? 

I smile as I write this and think, “I wish it could all go away!” But as you know, it doesn’t go away. One worry may resolve itself today, but another one will pop up later in the week. There will always be the toils and cares. 

I read somewhere that “rest doesn’t mean freedom from all nuisances and hassles; it means freedom from being so easily bothered by them.” i.e....freedom in the face of whatever would disturb your rest. 

So I guess there will always be the toils and cares with the lightening quick jabs. But I don’t have to get in the ring. I have a place of rest to go for peace, strength and grace.   

"This is the resting place, let the weary rest; and this is the place of repose" Isaiah 28:12

Moses found his rest in the tent of meeting. It was his place to meet with God when he needed wisdom, comfort and assurance. And as you know, he needed it a lot! I’m sure he visited that tent many times for a face to face with the Lord. 

It was in this tent of meeting, that the Lord told Moses, “My presence will go with you and I will give you rest.” 

I so love this! Did you catch the great truth in this? My God is the Rest Giver. In His presence is Rest. 

Daily I can enter into my “tent of meeting” to lay down my burdens, pour out my heart to Him, lay my head on His chest, hear His voice encouraging me. It’s a daily entering, sometimes a moment-by-moment entering. 

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,” Jesus tells me. I know I am soul weary and burdened. Are you? Let’s go into our tent of meeting and have a face to face with our Jesus. He waits for me to come. "This is the resting place, let the weary rest; and this is the place of repose" 

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Rambling Thursdays

I love to garden. The dirt is my canvas and my paint includes vegetables and flowers. But I didn’t always love it. Growing up, the garden meant eternal hours, (at least it seemed that way) shucking corn, picking beans, pulling weeds, and hauling water. 

And then the canning and freezing! Oh glum and despair on me, (again it felt that way to me). I hated sweating in the hot, steaming kitchen cleaning beans, bagging corn, peeling fruit, and mashing tomatos. I’d rather be out playing. 

My Mom and Grandmother canned and froze anything they could get their hands on. Of course I enjoyed the fruit of our labors. I took it for granted then. 

Later after I was married and we had our own place, I slowly ventured into gardening. I found a renewed love and passion I did not expect. I eventually planted flowers and loved it even more. (We’ll leave that for another blog.) 

Canning? No it wasn’t even on my radar. Not until five years ago when I just got sick of what passed as lame, sad excuses of produce in the supermarkets. 

So I ventured into the new world of canning. It was kind of intimidating, but you know, I just dove in and was pleasantly surprised at the results. 

Thankfully no disasters and no explosions. Only hurt pride when my envisioned Vlasic style pickles turned out limp as a noodle. 

I’ve canned tomatos, peaches, and salsa. All very good. Also freezed green beans and blueberries. Again, wonderful and fresh. 

Nothing like eating the fruit of your labors in the middle of winter. Yes, it is work, don’t let me fool you. But wow, it is so worth it! 

Anyway if this has been on your radar, and you are a bit intimidated... well let me be the one to cheer you on! Go for it! If this girl can do it, you can too. 

There are plenty of online helps to guide you. Here’s the Ball guide: http://www.freshpreserving.com/getting-started. It is very helpful. 

Walmart carries canning stuff. If you are lucky to have a farm store, (I have a Big R) they are a great source. 

Do you can and freeze? If so, what success have you had? Any epic disasters? 

Soul Sister Series, the final chapter. The Redeemed Woman

I wrote the Soul Sister series about ten years ago. I’m so glad to share it with you. I pray that each one has spoke to your heart. Even now when I read them, I am stirred. I’ve received such wonderful responses, and I know you were ministered to. Now I want to share another woman’s story. My story. For many years I kept my story to myself, it was just too painful. Even after all this time, I still find it difficult to share it with you now. 

Yet, whenever I have shared my testimony, I was surprised to find I wasn’t the only one. There were other wounded ones. 

At the age of five, I was sexually abused by a man at the farm where my Mother worked. From that point on I was never the same child. Fear and shame were my constant companions, bullying me relentlessly. 

A stigma seemed to cleave to me from that day on. That stigma seemed to attract others who took advantage and stole more of me. I was left with a mangled spirit. I was convinced I was ugly and unworthy of love. 

Battered, I retreated inside myself. I longed to be loved, but kept away for safety. I bore my pain alone, keeping my secret from everyone, even my parents. I didn’t share that part of me with anyone till I was a young adult. 

I shudder today when I think how easily I could have spiraled out of control.  Certainly having a Godly Grandmother who was a powerful influence helped. Also parents who loved Jesus and lived it out in front of me. My church family was a shelter. The Word was planted in my heart and nurtured. I believe these powerful influences kept my heart tender toward the Lord even while I was camped in the muck of sin and despair. 

I was a miserable wretch. I needed healing and redemption so badly for my wounded spirit. I received it in the seventh grade when I responded to a altar call at my church. I poured out my heart to Jesus and He took me into His arms.

I walked out of the church a new person. For the first time in my life, fear and shame lost their grip on me. I experienced Psalm 103:12, “As far as the East is from the West, so far has He removed our transgressions from me.” 

I still faced issues in my life and relationships. A deep wound such as mine takes time to heal completely. 

The summer I graduated from High School, I heard a woman share about her struggles with deep hurts. Something stirred within me as she told of how she forgave her offenders. I knew that was my next step. 

I’ll always look on this day as a defining moment in my life. I forgave the man who abused me and everyone else who used me. I spoke this out loud to the Lord. I laid it down and let it go, never to pick it up again. This was the beginning of a new process of healing. 

God healed my warped view of sex and men. I honestly had no desire to marry because my only experience of men was they were out to hurt and use me. I couldn’t imagine being intimate with a man, physically or intimately.  After I forgave, He healed my distorted image. He blessed me with a wonderful, gentle, humble man whom I married. 

I have found that my Jesus is so tender, His grace so sweet. He proved His faithfulness to me over and over again. I have plunged into the depths of His love. He surrounds and covers me. He truly is the Lover of my soul. 

Satan’s purpose was to destroy me, but God, (oh how I love those words, but God...) took a broken vessel, made it whole and useful again. I have a message of hope and it’s centered in Jesus. He has sustained me each step on the long road toward healing. He gave me strength in my weakness to let go and forgive, courage to open up and enjoy sweet intimacy. 

Joel 2:25-26 says, “I will repay you for the years the locust have eaten...You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed.” 

Restoration-what a sweet word. I have often felt I was cheated of something precious, but God worked wonders for me! He restored what the locusts have eaten. He has given Himself to me. And He more than satisfies. He has worked such a transformation that when I look at the person I used to be, I feel I’m seeing a stranger. 

I have scars on my hands and fingers from past mishaps with knives. One small patch from a hot glue accident. But the pain has been long forgotten. 

I have inward scars you can’t see. The pain is long gone. The wounds have healed completely. Now my painful past has been transformed into a testimony of God’s transforming power. 

I want to encourage you that If you have suffered, turn from your past and fix your eyes upon Him. You will find that His grace is sufficient. Abundant life, freedom, and restoration can be yours. He will heal your wounds. He has the power to transform your life. 

He Himself was wounded. He suffered. Hebrews 4:15 says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses”. He has scars of His own. He bore the wounds for your healing. He is quite familiar with your pain, your hurts. Beloved, don’t hold back, run to His everlasting, tender arms. 

Find your healing.
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Rambling Thursdays

Welcome to a new addition to my blog. A midweek pick-me -up. Nothing serious. Just light reading today. Be sure to stop by and join in. 

I am a trucker’s wife. My husband drove a big rig for about seven years now. I learned quickly to say yes to any invitations to ride along. 

Of course it’s wonderful to ride next to my man, but there are other delights along the way. I’m talking Epicurean delights. Wisconsin is one such place.

It is the cheese capital of the world. There are cheese houses everywhere. Mousehouse is one such place. http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tip/7852  Full of cheese, sausages and all sorts of goodies. There are even cheeseheads for Packer fans. It was a "must stop" when we traveled to the cheesy state.

It got out of hand though one day. The day began in the wee hours of the morning. Our first stop was at a truck stop that happened to have a Subway. I love Subway, however it wasn’t remotely close to breakfast time, but hey it smelled so good, my hunger was stirred and weakened by lack of sleep, I buckled under. 

A few hours later we arrived in Wisconsin. My husband had previously made mention of a roadside cafe that he tried and liked. We were running ahead of schedule, so we stopped to have breakfast. Yes, it is now breakfast. I suppose we’ll call Subway a midnight snack? 

I waddled back to the truck. Needless to say, I was filled to capacity. I was done for the day! But there was more to come. 

We delivered our load and turned around to head for home. We took another route home. Why? Because of the aforementioned Mousehouse. And also next door stood a A & W root beer stand. 

We bought a few goodies and then my husband suggested we do lunch. Yea, I know. I hadn’t had a hint of a hunger pain since the wee hours of the morning. I should have stood my ground and said thanks but no thanks. But hey, it's A&W! We really don't have them anymore around our area. It's A&W and I may never come this way again! So I said "Sure", but my gut said, "Don't you dare!" 

But nevertheless, I forced down more food to my harassed stomach. By now I was in a food coma

My gut felt like a rock, distended and bloated. I felt like Adam Richman after one of his crazy Man vs Food challenges. 

I hardly ate the next day. Probably didn't need to eat the rest of the week!

Lets just say I ate my way through Wisconsin that day. 

Anyway, next time you are in the cheesy state, pace yourself. Yours truly, "Glutton for punishment"