Wednesday, June 08, 2016

The One

The day is dark and I can't see
The path I'm on or what's in front of me
But I will stand on this I know
You will never let me go

For the one who holds tomorrow
Holds me in His hand
And I will not fear the future
I'll trust the Great I Am

His love is deep, His love is wide
A fountain flowing like a crimson tide
My stains were scarlet, but this I know
They've been washed as white as snow

For the one who holds tomorrow
Holds me in His hand
And I will not fear the future
I'll trust the Great I Am
Who has been and always will be
Reigning on His throne
For the One who holds me in His hand
Is the One who holds it all

Though the world shall fade away
And the sky may even fall
You are strong enough to save
You're the one who holds
Every heart that is afraid
You hear our desperate call
You are strong enough to save
You're the One who holds it all
You hold it all
You hold it all

For the one who holds tomorrow
Holds me in His hand
And I will not fear the future
I'll trust the Great I Am
Who has been and always will be
Reigning on His throne
For the One who holds me in His hand
Is the One who holds it all
You're the One who holds it all
You're the One who holds it all

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Streams in the Desert

I was crushed...so much so that I despaired even of life, but that was to make me rely not on myself, but on the God who raises the dead" (2 Cor. 1:8, 9).
"Pressed out of measure and pressed to all length;
Pressed so intensely it seems, beyond strength;
Pressed in the body and pressed in the soul,
Pressed in the mind till the dark surges roll.
Pressure by foes, and a pressure from friends.
Pressure on pressure, till life nearly ends.
"Pressed into knowing no helper but God;
Pressed into loving the staff and the rod.
Pressed into liberty where nothing clings;
Pressed into faith for impossible things.
Pressed into living a life in the Lord,
Pressed into living a Christ-life outpoured."

Friday, January 08, 2016

Petra, It is Finished

"They searched His face for anger;
For vengeance in His stare;
Instead of eyes that burned with hate
a look of love was there."
(Petra -- It is Finished)
Oh, Lord, make me more like you every day.

Tuesday, January 05, 2016

Prayer: by Max Lucado

How hard can it be? I have friends who excel in prayer. They inhale heaven and exhale God. They would rather pray than sleep. I sleep when I should pray. They belong to the PGA: Prayer Giants Association.
Not me. I’m a card-carrying member of the PWA: Prayer Wimps Anonymous.
Hello, my name is Max. I’m a recovering prayer wimp.


It’s true. I doze off when I pray. My thoughts zig, then zag, then zig again. If attention deficit disorder applies to prayer, I am afflicted. When I pray, I think of a thousand things I need to do, and I forget the one thing I set out to do: pray.
Sure. We all pray some
But wouldn’t we like to pray More? Better?


Prayer is not a privilege for the pious, not the art of a chosen few. Prayer is simply a heartfelt conversation between God and his child. My friend, he wants to talk with you. Even now, as you read these words, he taps at the door. Open it. Welcome him in. Let the conversation begin.
Prayer really is that simple. Resist the urge to complicate it. Don’t take pride in well-crafted prayers. Don’t apologize for incoherent prayers. No games. No cover-ups. Just be honest honest to God. Tell him everything that’s on your heart. Your worries, your fears, your unfixable fixes.
But here’s the thing about prayer. If it depends on how I pray, I’m sunk. But if the power of prayer depends on the One who hears the prayer, then I have hope.
And if the power of prayer comes from the One who hears it, then I don’t have to be timid.
You heard me right. Our prayers shouldn’t be bashful or half-hearted. They should be bold.
Boldness in prayer is an uncomfortable thought for many. We think of speaking softly to God, humbling ourselves before God, or having a chat with God but agonizing before God? Storming heaven with prayers? Wrestling with God? Isn’t such prayer irreverent? Presumptuous?
It would be had God not invited us to pray as such. “So let us come boldly to the very throne of God and stay there to receive his mercy and to find grace to help us in our times of need” (Hebrews 4:16 tlb).
So how do we go from prayer wimps to audacious prayers like that?
We start by consulting God in everything. Always. Immediately. Quickly. Live with one ear toward heaven. Keep the line open to God.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

I saw a piece of his heart...

 He laughed when he saw this picture of himself.
              He was still laughing from the previous picture when I showed him this one.
 I showed him this picture and asked him if he remembered having dinners at Grandma and Grandpa's ever.  He looked at it and said, "I remember that."  I thought it was nice that he answered because he doesn't usually respond back to me, although one of the workers, Robin, told me when I picked him up, that he had been talking more.
Then I showed him this one.  There was a stack of pictures, and we were looking at several.  At one point I looked over at him to see him silently crying, but quite hard.  Big tears streaming down his cheeks.  I apologized for upsetting him and told him sometimes it can be hard looking at pictures with so many people who are no longer with us anymore, and told him that we will see them again some day, but I'm really not sure why he was crying.  I saw raw emotion and felt like I saw a piece of his heart, but I can only guess why he was crying.  He pulled himself together and I rubbed his hand and told him how much I love him, but by then I was teary too.  I checked on him when I got home and the girl who answered the phone said he seemed happy and had just downed a cup of coffee.

Friday, July 31, 2015

Yesterday I went to visit Tim alone because Martha had to babysit Josh and Jake, and Priscilla had a job interview.  When I arrived he was sitting at the dining room table and had just finished coloring a large picture, with markers.  One of the workers (I forget her name) saw me and said, "I want to know who taught Tim to color so nice, and who taught him to say his prayers?"  She said he prays every night.  I told her that our parents always prayed with all of us and I'm sure that's where he got it.  It made my heart do a little dance.  My autistic brother prays!  I wished my parents could have heard that!  What a blessing it is to know that my brother knows the importance of prayer and does it daily!  We went out for our drive and I explained to him why I was there alone and told him that the next time it would be more than just me visiting.  We listened to a CD of  Dad playing his guitar and harmonica, he ate the goodies I brought him and I talked to him about how strange it was to see Mom's hands on the ends of my arms (my hands look just like hers to me).  He gave me some sweet looks along the way... I love him.  I took a blurry selfie of us upon our return to his house....

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Sinuses and Painting

Well, I'm loving the warmer temperatures we've been having, but evidently my sinuses don't.  I am struggling to get rid of a sinus infection without having to take antibiotics.  I really hope I get to enjoy spring...
On another note, my husband doesn't want to go shopping with me today.  I'm thinking about painting the boy's bathroom and getting them a new shower curtain.  They have told me that their shower curtain is somewhat juvenile.  The colors on it are pastel and they've had it for many years, so I think it's probably past time to change it, and today is suposed to be rainy. Off I go. I'll report back later with some before and after pics.