Monday, 20 March 2017

Don't Come Into My Heart, Lord Jesus

Faced a difficult situation last night. You know what that's like.Someone we love dearly had gotten offended at us and I felt helpless to heal the breach. What, oh what could be done to remedy the situation? With tears and a breaking heart I told my husband it felt like love just wasn't enough when you're raising children. Then they asked us over. It was a tentative step forward on their part, and oh I hated the thought of messing things up by saying or doing the wrong thing. That's when it came to me that I didn't want Jesus in my heart because it was so scrawny and mean and narrow but I wanted to be in His heart so that His love could flow uninhibited right through me.
Please pray for me, for us.

Monday, 13 March 2017

Surely Not!

Surely Not!

“He’s such a no-it-all!”
“He’s always thought he was better than us.”
As Jesus walked towards His childhood home he had been hungry, enthused to lay aside his tools for the day and enjoy a good supper. The aromas had assailed him as he strode towards the house. Now his appetite left Him. Jesus instinctively knew they were talking about him again.
Jesus thought briefly of turning back and not eating, but no, that would be cowardly, and His mother would get upset.
With a barely suppressed sigh, he entered the cottage.
James glowered at Him. “Well, you took long enough. The lentils are getting cold, why do we always have to wait for you?”
               “Ya,” Simon chimed in, “You think you are so important that we all can wait.”
               Jesus could have told them that wizened, old Aaron ben Yosef, who was getting forgetful, had wandered away from his home and was frightened. Jesus had taken him back to his son’s place even though it was across town.  It had taken much longer than expected because Aaron was distracted so easily.
Why tell them? They weren’t interested anyway.
               Even Mary looked unhappy as she thumped His bowl of lentil soup on the table in front of Him.
It was his duty as the eldest Son to lead n prayer now that their father had passed on.
He paused, trying to corral his troubled thoughts.
               Simon's head jerked up. “Well?”
               Jesus smiled gently at his brothers then turned to the next in age.
               “James, why don’t you pray today?”
               James’ eyes widened then he quickly mumbled a, a something, they assumed it was a prayer before reaching across the table for the bread.
               Only his little sister, Lydia, looked at him with loving concern. Jesus knew she still adored him, but when the meal was over, he didn’t have the heart to play with her when the others were so unhappy with him.

               Instead of sitting in the house after the meal and reading the Torah as Jesus had originally planned, Jesus took a long walk through the arid countryside and poured out his heart to His Heavenly Father.    (Marilyn Friesen)

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

Shaking, Slipping or Cursing?

Some of us are safe, but sure don’t feel like it at all times. The night is dark and the storm raging all around, white, frothing waves are lashing against the rock where we have found shelter and some of the spray hits us causing me to tremble. I am afraid; the storm is terrible will it sweep me off the rock? I hope not, but I see others clinging onto little jutting out areas and wonder how they will ever hang on.
               Those up higher have found a sheltering cleft. No, it doesn’t keep us completely dry and although the wind reaches us, we needn’t fear being swept off the rock, but what about the others lower down? Why didn’t they get as close to the top of the rock and find a hiding place?
               The answer is sad: they found it too boring, it had been exciting, before the storm came, to be as close to the waves as possible, some even leaped in and swam around for a short while. But what about now? They were hanging on for dear life.  Someone was calling to them but the voice was faint, tossed around by the mighty gale. Some of them looked up and reached for the rope offered and found safety, but I knew once the storm died down they would be soon dabbling in the ripples once again.
               As a shout came across the waves, I braced myself and leaned forward: was it a shout for help? No, someone, no, a whole boatful of passengers were cursing and shaking their fist at the rock. They were blaming the rock for the trouble they were in!
               The rock is Jesus, the sea is the world; there are many storms all around us. Where are you?

You Mean She is Alive?

This came in a letter from my nephew who is a missionary:
------ have chosen to visit the Andaman Islands of India and invited us along! We are enthused about it. Gospel tract has had a few contacts there for five years or so. We flew to Port Blair, the largest city of the Islands. We went to our hotel and agreed to meet Dr. T. Raja Wilson that evening. We had a good visit with Raja and his wife, Shiva. They are originally from Kerala and of the A.G. Church. He had been an assistant pastor in a large church there. In time, he felt called to missionary work in the Andaman’s. His mother was on her deathbed and he felt bad for leaving her. She told him he should go with her blessing, but. “Wait until I have died. Bury me first, and then go.” Nevertheless, he felt God wanting them to go. The church had given him a good collection to help him go very nicely to Port Blair and get set up. He cared not for the money and used it to buy provisions for his mother and family. Or something? Then, he and his wife set sail in the very cheapest berth on the ship, headed for Port Blair. The journey took like 4 days and when he arrived he called home to find out that his mother had been healed that very day! This boosted his faith. This incident took place 13 years ago. She is still alive and well today! She has visited his place in Port Blair twice. They were married 5 years with no children. One day, they became aware of three homeless, parentless children. They felt to take them in, although they didn’t have the room or ability to do so. They continued in faith and opened their home to more needy children and today they have 90+ children they care for and influence. Once, they had run out of food. Shiva asked Raja what to do. They decided to feed the children the rest of the rice and serve it in bowls with water, so basically rice water soup. Then, instead of playing after the ‘meal’ or doing homework, they sent the children to bed so they wouldn’t feel their hunger. After the children were in bed, husband and wife began pouring their hearts out to God. They were tempted to doubt their calling or their work as it didn’t seem as God was blessing, or guiding them. Here they had these children trusting them, to provide and they weren’t able to do so. Raja prayed for several hours. He felt he had shared and prayed what could be prayed for and felt to go to bed. But Shiva would not stop. She cried to God all night through, demanding help, pleading help, interceding for the children and for the work she was convinced God had called them to. At 5:00 am, the time they normally began preparing breakfast for the children, Raja was awakened by the sound of hammering on the outside door. He was startled and fearful of who he would find there at that hour in the morning. Hesitantly, he opened the door. An army officer was there. On asked whom he sought, the officer said he was looking for Love Children’s Home. Raja had to admit that this was the place. “I have a truck load of food for Love Children’s Home.” Raja was quizzical, “What? Why? We did not request… ?” The answer the officer gave, “My Boss has ordered me to have this load of food delivered to Love Children’s Home by 5:00 am.” Army men unloaded the truckload of food, piling the kitchen and storage place full with rice, dal, vegetables, etc. Raja was completely confused. He realized this was a work of God. They praised God with tears of unspeakable gratitude.

Monday, 9 January 2017

A Letter to My Younger Self

Dear Child,
I know what happened; I was there. Your innocent heart was like a rosebud, a pure white flower in a crystal vase. Then an evil hand came and smudged one of the petals. In your innocence, you were soon able to forget and go on with your play.  
You didn’t know this wasn’t normal, you didn’t know this was wrong but you kept it to yourself, why?
Maybe because it made you feel uncomfortable, maybe because you were afraid he would find out and get upset.  But it continued, one petal after another was smudged then crushed until one day the flower withered and died and the water of joy that had been feeding it had also drained away.
As a young child, you soon learned to be afraid of—him. By nature, you would have been carefree, but a shell that some called shyness was developing around you.
Time passed and you gradually became more aware of right and wrong. You saw younger children still carrying the beautiful bud of innocence but yours was gone, faded and dying. It was then you began to realize that the delicate vase that was in your heart had also been crushed and the broken pieces were piercing you, causing much pain.
Is that the end: a broken heart, a dying flower?
It seemed like. In fact, the cuts festered over the years as you learned this was not normal and many were going through life happy because no evil monster had snatched away the flower of innocence and left a broken heart.
By now, those pieces have embedded deep into your heart but you observed others were acting ‘normally’ so pretended to do the same. How can a person be ‘normal’ when the slightest memory brings pain and bad experiences would cause the old wounds to start bleeding away?
How can you go on like this? But you did, year after year, you raised a family, had a caring husband …and prayed…
I keep ‘seeing’ the Great Physician hovering over me while I write; He wants me to remind you how He removed those crushed shards one by one and poured in the healing balm of love.
I know: and am grateful for what He has done, but there are others who are still suffering. Give your heart to Jesus let Him remove the broken pieces. It will not be easy but will sure be a lot easier than having them remain there.
I may have lost that flower of innocence at too young an age but it’s okay, now, because the Great Physician gave me what feels like a Garden of Eden in return.