Rear Guard

Our house passed out of our ownership today.
Our tenants moved out fourteen months ago,
and we've been paying the mortgage
and the rent where we live now
without the help of an income that just covered the mortgage
of the house left behind coming in.
We did not see any possibility of doing that,
and yet, by the Lord's mercy, we did.
And we ate, too.

Years ago, the Lord spoke a promise to us.
He directed our steps with it:
halting us when we were ready to go too fast,
and sending us forward
when we didn't see how we'd guard ourselves from behind.
He did for us as He promised,
and we are humbled by His care.
The mortgage debt is gone and the cost of our cross-country move.

While we were there, we prayed about how to impact the community for good.
But it felt like that was a loss when we moved away.
The family that bought the house from us are involved in the community,
in ways that build it up.
It's the first home they've ever owned,
and its age and history (read: constant need of upkeep because she is so old)
were part of the draw of that house to them.
I am so happy to have sold it
to people who will love it,
and who will be enabled to deepen their own roots
in a community they have already been investing in.

And yet, of course, I feel like crying.
For the first time in many years, we don't own a home.
And the bookshelves my daddy built me are someone else's now.
My books fill IKEA shelves, which are perfectly adequate,
but not labors of love.
I long for a place of our own.
A quiet sanctuary.
My husband reminds me of another promise:
'Everyone who has left houses
or brothers or sisters
or father or mother
or children or lands
for My name's sake,
will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life.'

You are our Home, Lord.
Thank You for covering us.

How To Sustain

Sunday morning, February 28,
I was in the Word
and had my attention drawn to two passages of Scripture.
The first is Proverbs 15:4:
"A wholesome tongue is a tree of life: 
but perverseness in it breaks the spirit."
A wholesome tongue.
A healing tongue.
Another version called it a gentle tongue.

So, I was praying about that.
Thinking about what James says about our tongues.
A very world of iniquity.
And that the man who has control over that is a perfect man.
I prayed for forgiveness and transformation.
Because I have not achieved such perfection.
And sometimes, the words escape me.

I want to heal with my words. 
To restore and redeem. 
To reconcile. 
To build up.
To bless You and Your people. 

Then the Lord brought my attention to Isaiah 50:4:
"The Lord God has given me the tongue of those who are taught, 
that I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary."
Ah, Lord-- give me the tongue of those who are taught.
I want to know how to sustain the weary with a word. 

I read through these with my children, and we prayed together about them, too.

Sunday afternoon my brother went to the ER
because a pharmacist told him to when he saw his swollen elbow.
Tuesday afternoon, he went in for exploratory surgery
because of an infection that was not responding to antibiotics, and kept growing.
In surgery, he finally got a diagnosis: necrotizing fasciitis.
Maybe you never heard of it.
You probably don't want to.
I actually already knew what it was
because we have a family friend
whose life God miraculously spared from it in the 1990s.

A number of us skipped dinner for intercession,
(my oldest three children joined in that decision).
I did not sleep much.
My brother's ambulance was arriving at his third hospital very late,
and I wanted as much news as I could get.
And I was praying.

Once he was in surgery again,
and I knew the news would be awhile in coming, I grew so tired.
I fell asleep on my phone.
When I woke up, in the wee hours of the morning,
I looked at my phone and saw a little conversation, but still no news.
I prayed again, and found myself thanking God
for my brother, my family, my parents and my husband,
my very dear brothers and sisters in Christ
who were awake praying over my baby brother,
doctors and nurses who care and strain themselves doing it.

My sister said a little while later that she had fallen asleep
feeling guilty that she was so tired she couldn't stay awake.
So tired.
But here's the thing, and what really has been balm:
While we were collapsing exhausted,
the Lord was waking up people who love Him to intercede.
I've heard from at least fifteen people
(and I do not doubt there are more)
who were awakened to pray in the night.
And I think of Moses standing with his arms lifted but weary,
and friends who care coming in to support.
And I am overwhelmed with gratitude
at God's handiwork in uniting a family that is not family.
I am so thankful for the family He placed me in,
that transcends states and nations, that crosses over time zones.
When one member suffers, we all suffer.
Bless the Lord, who daily loads us with benefits.

And yesterday, as I was pondering the whole thing,
and thinking how like to flesh eating bacteria
the growing evil in our nation and world is,
and how we need to be directed to the care of a doctor,
to have the condition recognized for what it is,
to be scrubbed clean of it,
and to be prayed over,
but we are too tired and weak to intercede alone --
the words came back from Sunday morning again.

A wholesome tongue.
A healing tongue.
The tongue of those who are taught.
That I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary.
Because we are weary.
My brother's body is weary.
And prayer and the Word sustain.

And perhaps God will have mercy on our nation if we call out to Him.
Those who are taught intercede.

Musings on the Social Network

I am thinking about what edifies others,
instead of draining them of their energy and motivation
with complaints and problems.
Giving thanks.
When my eyes are scanning for what to thank Him for,
instead of what bothers me, what I don't like,
how I've been wronged today, how things aren't meeting my expectations and desires,
it sends out ripples of good through my own heart and mind, and into the community.

But the opposite is also true.
Scanning for negatives to complain about, for faults in others,
for what to be unhappy about,
creates unhappiness first in me, and spreads to others.
I have a child prone to "I don't like..."
For some time, my response to these comments has been,
"What DO you like?"
It's funny how it changes things to look for the good instead of the bad.

So, I ask you today: what do you like?
What can you thank God for?
What is praiseworthy today?

I love quiet mornings with my coffee and my Bible and my husband by the fire.
My sons came down this morning
and told me they had picked up their room without being asked.
And although there is much busyness getting ready for Christmas just now,
I get to spend time doing some shopping with a friend, instead of facing the madness alone.

Ah, and friends. Don't they make you smile just by existing?
What a gift that God gives them to us, that He sets the lonely in families,
and makes us into one in Christ.
And now it's YOUR turn.

Anniversary Thanks

What to say on this anniversary of her homecoming?
Looking back on my memories of her,
I look forward to realities she's already living in.
When next I see her, her eyes will sparkle more
than they always did when she arrived for a visit.
I expect she'll have a bag to unpack full of gifts of another kind.

"Give thanks in all circumstances," it says.
Grandma did that.
Here we are on the eve of Thanksgiving,
and many of us have suffered loss,
and perhaps only look forward to more losses.
In all these things, we are more than conquerors.
Our prize is already waiting.
The Son of God has crossed the finish line for us.
In Him, all the promises of God are 'yes' and 'amen'.
So remain in Him.
In Him we have Life.
Live in Him.
In all our sorrows, He has shared.
And we will share His joy.
Thank You, Jesus, for the fellowship of the Spirit,
the communion of the saints.

For All The Grace I Have Not Tasted Yet

My sister and I were praying together today,
and as she prayed, she was thanking the Lord for hard things:
for awkward times, and heartaches.
She thanked Him because those hurts impart compassion.
They limit judgment, and increase care.
I was already thinking about sharing this poem I read this morning,
but her prayer tied in with the part of this poem that most spoke to me.
Maybe it will also speak to you:

My heart is resting, O my God,
I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source 
Of every precious thing.
Now the frail vessel Thou hast made 
No hand but Thine shall fill;
For the waters of the earth have failed,
And I am thirsty still.

I thirst for springs of heavenly life,
And here all day they rise;
I seek the treasure of Thy love,
And close at hand it lies.
And a new song is in my mouth
To long-loved music set:
"Glory to Thee for all the grace
I have not tasted yet;

"Glory to Thee for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known;
And the fear that sends me to Thy breast
For what is most my own."
I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
Is keeping it for me.

My heart is resting, O my God,
My heart is in Thy care;
I hear the voice of joy and health
Resounding everywhere.
"Thou art my portion," saith my soul,
Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen
Will never die away.
~Anne Laetitia Waring

For the grace I have not tasted;
for strength withheld;
for intimate acquaintance with want, and with weakness;
and for fears that drive me to You:
Thank You.
Wow.
Yeah.

Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now I keep Thy word.
Thou art good, and doest good; teach me Thy statutes.
I know, O LORD, that Thy judgments are right, 
and that Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.
Let, I pray Thee, Thy merciful kindness be for my comfort, 
according to Thy word to Thy servant. 
Let Thy tender mercies come to me, that I may live... 
~ From Psalm 119:67-77

The Breakfast On The Table

 My oldest son has been making oatmeal
for breakfast on weekdays for several months.
This week he taught my oldest daughter to do it, so they can take turns.
Yesterday was her first time doing it alone (but under his observation).
We were at the end of the oatmeal jar yesterday,
with just enough for what we needed.
When the oatmeal was done,
Silas came running in to tell me it was breakfast time.
"It's breakfast! But there's no more oatmeal!" he said.
"Is the oatmeal we have cooked?" I asked.
"Yes. But there's no more for tomorrow."
"Is there enough for today?"
He nodded.
"Then that is enough. Because we pray, 'Give us today our daily bread.'
Today, there is enough. God has given us what we need."

I was amused that in one so young,
he would look at lack,
instead of the meal sitting there waiting to be eaten.
I knew He would provide more oats for our appetites,
but all he could see was the empty jar.
He just needed to eat thankfully the breakfast on the table.

Prayer in the Morning, and How?

For the quiet of the morning;
for the softly falling rain;
for the cooing of the mourning dove --
thank You.
Lord, help me to be salt and light:
neither flavorless nor dim.
The age in which I live is distressing.
Please be my Helper.
Be my Friend.
Lord, I want to be Yours -- set apart for You.
I want to bless You with my hands, my thoughts, my faith.

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength."
"He seeks those who will worship Him in Spirit and in truth."

How do we worship in Spirit and in truth?
The opposite, I suppose, would be to worship Him in material form and hypocrisy.
The falseness of setting up a sacrifice and withholding my soul.
A song from my mouth and silent disdain from my heart.

True worship chooses to do the honoring thing when He is the only audience.
True worship not only refrains from murder, but also from hatred.
It marries from the heart -- eschewing even the lustful thought of another.
Secret charity, and secret prayer.
Secret forgiveness, and secret fasts.
Secret trust: a hidden hope.

New Mercy and Compassions that Fail Not

I am not among those who revel in the change of the year.
I am prone to dismal forebodings.
And I am not resolute.
Or at least, I resent the expectation of resolve.
I don't like to make declarations of plans.
I prefer to simply do the things I think I ought to do.
(A man of words and not of deeds is like a garden full of weeds --
and all that stuff.)

Last night, we watched the freak-out in Times Square.
And when the date changed, I thought, "Hmm. There it is. A new year. Wow."
My husband said, "Last year my work was coming to an end,
and I had no idea what we would do.
We had no money.
We hadn't even put our house on the market yet.
The Lord has been faithful to us."
It was a difficult year.
Actually, the few years before that were difficult, too.
And the Lord has been faithful to us.

I don't like changes.
They trigger anxiety for me.
But I remember that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.
His mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning.
Great is His faithfulness.

"This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope.
It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, 
because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.
The LORD is good to them that wait for him, 
to the soul that seeketh him. 
It is good that a man should both hope 
and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD."
~From Lamentations 3

Whatever lamentation the year may hold, the Lord is my portion.
He has new mercy for me every day.
He is faithful in great ways.
I am not consumed.
He is good to those who wait for Him,
and He has shown Himself so in my life.
I will hope in Him, and quietly wait for him.

"Put on humility. 
For God resists proud ones, 
but He gives grace to the humble.
Therefore be humbled under the mighty hand of God, 
so that He may exalt you in due time, 
casting all your anxiety onto Him, 
for He cares for you."
~From 1 Peter 5

He cares for me.
And His compassions fail not.
Happy first day of the first week of the first month of the new year.

Thank You

The other night as I put my children to bed, I was so blessed to hear their prayers.
Each one had a fairly long list of things they thanked the Lord for.
The naturally sour one had the longest list of all.
I love to hear her pray.

"Dear Jesus, tank You for our new 'ouse, and we don't have to wait anymore... But we have to wait for it to be painted," Silas prayed.

He's pretty anxious to get green walls.

Hither By Thy Grace I'm Come

(This is not Ebenezer.)

This has been a year of upheaval. 

Jeff has been at a new job for four months, 
and was recently promoted. 

He spent a couple of months without a job, 
and then from September until February 

working part time for very low wages.

God has been good to us.  

Friends we had not seen or spoken to in over a dozen years 

found us and sent money which miraculously 
always arrived in the nick of time. 

Thousands of dollars were mailed to us, handed to us, 

refunded to us, or snuck into our mailbox. 

Roughly $13,641 over the last year, as best I can tell. 

Food arrived on our doorstep. 

Friends invited us over to gather from their gardens. 

We expected a sparse Christmas. 

But on Christmas day, the tree was surrounded with gifts. 

There was never a surplus, but we had enough. 

Just as the spontaneous gifts dwindled 
(from multiple sources all over the country), 

and the part time work was about to end, 
he got a phone call asking him 
to come to work for a company 
two and a half hours south of our home. 

We had been praying and waiting for some time 
for the Lord to give us direction.

Jeff began this season of commuting, 

living with my sister's family during the week, 
and coming back to us on weekends.  

The day before Jeff began his commuting we had to junk his car, 

so I had no transportation if I stayed in our house.  

The kids and I moved into my parents' house 
so we could finish the work on our house 

and put it on the market. 

The stagnant buyers' market. 

The market no one can sell in. 

One week after we put it on the market, 
our house sold in a bidding war 

(which I might add, my mother, sister, and children were praying for). 

And we got full price. 

Our realtor was stunned. 

(Actually, both our realtors -- we had one down south already 

who hadn't seemed to believe us when we told her 
we would be selling our home shortly 

and wanted to start looking down there.) 

On April 15th, we closed. 

We paid off the mortgage, the home equity loan, 
our auto loan, and everything else in sight.

When we talked to our loan officer and he pulled our credit report, 

we laughed out loud. 

Our credit score was extraordinarily high. 

Higher than we are capable of generating 

in a year where our income was less than half of what we've had 
for many years past. 

Higher than it was when Jeff had a steady job with a regular income.

The bank has decided we are a good risk. 

The love of God is a good risk. 

Our realtor observed that, 

"It's obvious Someone is looking out for you." 

Our loan officer wrote to me, 

"He’s watching over all of this to make sure it’s happening."

About the time that we gave up on finding a livable home 

large enough for us, in our small price range, 

in a location we could bear to live in, 

Jeff noticed a new listing. 

I was not in the area at the time, 
and asked him to photograph it well so I could see it. 

We made an offer via cell phones and email. 

I hadn't seen it yet. 

About the same time we were submitting the offer, 

a dear friend of ours sent Jeff a text 

that referenced the verse we had on the chalkboard 
in our bathroom for a long time. 

It was a verse the Lord used with Jeff in the middle of the night 
when we needed direction. 

I don't think our friend knew its significance to us, 

and I know he was not yet aware that we were offering on the house.

It has four bedrooms. 

Five if you count the one without a closet. 

Two bathrooms (a rarity among old New England homes -- 
the only ones we can afford to buy). 

Curved walls. 

Ceiling fans. 

And a lot of painting and floor replacements in our future. 

And it needs new wiring and a new furnace, 
and replacement windows. 

But it is livable after we mop. 

And it was shockingly priced 
considering the others we have seen in that price range. 

And we have it under contract. 

At lower than the listing price. 

And it will have a craft/guest room off the dining room. 

The BIG dining room.  

And a bay window. 

And lots of closet space. 

And good light. 

And it is within walking distance of two of my sisters. 

We are scheduled to close on it Friday morning.

I think I am going to name it Ebenezer.