A soul that sings...

"It's in quiet moments

that her heart

sings the loudest."

In quiet moments, my heart sings of love and faith. Melodies lift and soar while harmonies intertwine, singing of a soul that's loved and forgiven...even if it's riddled with imperfections.

My heart sings...of what is up to me!

I often wonder what my heart is singing out to those around me.
Am I singing out about love? Wisdom? Hope?
Or has my heart's song become one of anger, hurt or discord?
I'm hoping that the melody my heart is singing along with is one that is finely orchestrated by a loving and compassionate Heavenly Father...who is always patiently waiting for me to hand back His conductor's baton when, out of fear or a need to feel in control, I've snatched it out of His hands.

A prayer for Haiti

Father, I come to you burdened by a plight that's not my own but I feel it as though it is. I'm weighed down by the desperation of a country crippled by disaster, fear, chaos and anger. I come to you for Haiti.

I come to you knowing that you are more than able of dispelling that fear and anger that would try and rip the country apart. I come to you with every confidence that you are and will continue to be the peace in the midst of their chaos...and their pain.

There are those who would try and take advantage of these people while they are weak and in need. Be their buffer, Father, and their protector. Make the crooked ways straight so that aid may come to Haiti swiftly and effectively.

Thank you for the things that you have already done...for I know you were there even before I knew what had happened.

Continue to embue the relief workers, doctors, missionaries and all helping hands with strength and grace. I know the pressure must be overwhelming. Help them combat the helplessness that can so easily take hold in the face of needs so great.

I come to you, Father, for Haiti.

My In-Laws were in the news...

We got a call from my MIL today saying that the house next door to theirs had a fire around 4:30 this morning. I thought she meant something small.....

Well, it wasn't small. It totally engulfed the house the fire started in, caused damage to my in-laws, and caused a renter in the house on the other side to lose everything.

No one was hurt, I'm deliriously happy to say! Although, I know my MIL and FIL were quite shaken up, we're just happy that the damage wasn't any worse....and it easily could have been if the multiple fire departments that it took to put out the blaze were any later in showing up.

(That's their house to the right in that second picture.)

My FIL was interviewed on the news and the last comment he made was quite surprising coming from him...

"I'm not really a religious man, but it makes you think. Thank God they were able to save it."

Indeed, Thank God.

Waiting out the storm...

Galen Rowell

Storm on the Ocean

I love to go to the beach or be near the water. You wouldn't think so to look at me...pale and not of a size to grace a bikini. Yet, I do.

I like to go when most everyone else has left for the season. Yes, some may think that the beach looks lonely without all those baking bodies and frollicking young'uns but, to me, it's peaceful. I feel as if God is right there walking with me in rolled up jeans, barefoot, looking for seashore treasures and listening to the constant ebb and flow of the surf. Oh, sweet peace.

Yet, being someone who's lived near the water for some years, I know how that peaceful shore can errode under the ceaseless pounding of wave after wave during a hard storm.

I have moments in my life that are like that peaceful seaside walk. I treasure them. The smiles of my boys, a shared laugh with Hubby, catching up with family...my moments generally don't come with fireworks or any sort of grand display, but they are to be treasured, none-the-less.

Then there are times when that seaside walk, both figuratively and literally, seems a million miles away. Sickness, grief, self-doubt, endless chores, words spoken...words not spoken....they all combine to turn that peaceful shore into an erroding sandy strand in the middle of a fierce, merciless storm.

So here I am on my hands and knees looking for those sand-covered treasures despite the fact that the waves are getting higher and the wind is picking up beneath threatening, purple clouds. Yet, I know that the storm will pass and joy will, indeed, come with the morning. If you need to find me, I'll be the one sitting on the beach with my treasures of love and joy gathered around me watching the horizon for the break of day....

"We need a clean up on aisle 3!"

I don't really like to go grocery shopping, however, now that the Bubs is in school I can browse in relative peace. This is a great thing! No arguments, begging or temper tantrums....and that's just my behavior, never mind how the Bubs acts! *snicker, snort*

So there I am meandering through the aisles with my handy list at the ready when I start to feel, um, odd. Odd as in my ham and cheese sandwhich that I had for lunch is 'bout to take flight! Yuck. I must have turned a little green and had, I'm sure, a weird and desperate look on my face, cause a few people gave me "the eye". I didn't care one bit. Let 'em take a long look....better to be lookin' at my weird expression than a funky puddle on the floor.

I try to keep moving (anything to get away from that darn dairy section!) and focus on other things. This isn't easy for a nauseous pregnant woman to do when there's literally food everywhere. Anyway, I'm thinking about Hubby and Bubs.....this works for about a split second, but then I start to feel sorry for myself that they're not with me. Oooookaaaaay. Movin' right along. As I'm wracking my brain for another safe thing to think about, my stomach starts to churn even more. Forget distracting thoughts, Honey, I'm beggin' Jesus at this point, "Please, Lord. I really don't feel like throwing up in the middle of Wal-Mart! Help!"

At that very moment, I rounded a corner and heard, "Jeeessuuuus. Mm."

It was a short, older black lady who, even though she was shaking her head, had a smile on her face. We made eye contact and each started smiling at the other. She laughed and said, "When you can't call on anyone else, you can call on Jesus."

"Amen. That's exactly right!", I enthusiastically agreed with her. What I really wanted to tell her was, "Preach to me, Baby! Tell it!" like a friend of mine used to do when the pastor was imparting a word that spoke to her. I didn't loose that smile that she gave me.....but I did loose the nausea! Hallelujah and Thank Ya Jesus!!

When I couldn't call on anyone else, He was there to answer me in the midst of my need, no matter how big or small. It's been that way all of my life. Ain't He good, Y'all?!

A Moment with My Father

Have you ever had a moment when the realness of God and what He's continually doing for you kinda smacks you in the face? Personally, I love it when that happens. I need those kinds of moments to keep me focused and centered in the middle of this crazy life.

I wasn't looking to have that kind of moment this morning (shame on me), but I'm so very glad it happened. I was reading over the liturgy for tomorrow's service in order to pick out some appropriate music for our group to sing. The music and worship planner that I have comes with hymn and contemporary song suggestions that I glance at occasionally to get ideas when I'm stumped.......other times I, frankly, completely ignore them. Not that I'm thumbing my nose at what they have listed, I just like to stay open to whatever the Lord is leading us as a group to sing. I had the first two songs down pretty quickly, but the anthem was beginning to give me fits. So, I glanced over at the song suggestions and "My Tribute" by Andrae Crouch leapt out at me. Okay. I'm down with that....what's not to like about Andrae? As I sat there looking over the music for it, this song that I've heard many times before, the words caught my attention like they never really had before. Oh. OH.

How can I say thanks for the things You have done for me-
things so undeserved, yet You gave to prove Your love for me? The voices
of a million angels could not express my gratitude. All that I am and ever
hope to be, I owe it all to Thee.

The world around me faded away and I was alone with my precious Heavenly Father. As fast as the flow of tears down my face, so was the flow of praise that filled my heart and mind and made its way to His ears. I was instantly enveloped in a feeling of love so intense that it was almost as tangible as being wrapped in loving arms. Then and there, the things that had been weighing so heavily on my mind and heart faded away before the certainty of my Saviour's love.

To God be the glory. To God be the glory. To God be
the glory for the things he has done. With His blood he has saved
me; With His pow'r He has raised me. To God be the glory for
the things he has done.

Just let me live my life; Let it be pleasing, Lord, to
Thee. And should I gain any praise, let it go to Calvary.

So on the eve of Father's Day, I had a moment with my Father. Have you had one of those lately? I hope you have, Shug.