Friday, March 29, 2013

Silent Memories

I don’t know about anyone else, but during a concert or sporting event when they ask for a moment of silence for someone who has died, I have a hard time quieting my mind. Surrounded by all of the activity and with feelings of anticipation and excitement, it takes almost that long for me to try to focus my thoughts. Silence doesn’t seem to come easy these days.
  When I was growing up there was one day when no music, TV or games were allowed in our house from the time we got up until 3 o’clock in the afternoon.  It was Good Friday.  It was not normal for the four of us kids to be quiet so the day was long and frustrating.  When I got bored I would usually go outside which was my favorite place to be anyway.  Funny thing though, I remember so many Good Fridays when it rained all day.  Mom always said the angels were crying for Jesus. Not long after 3:00 someone would turn on the TV on but not as loud as usual and it seemed like it took a while for things to get back to normal.  
I asked her once why we could turn everything back on at 3:00 and she said that it was because that was the time when it was believed Jesus had died on the cross.  It didn’t make sense to me then that the saddest moment of the day would be the time when the music and games could start again. But I began to understand that when I read what Jesus said on the cross, “It is finished”.  The pain was over and death defeated now all there was to do was to wait for the Glory of Easter.
I wish that I could say that I carried on that tradition for my own children but I really only told them about it.  Now on Good Friday no matter where I am my mind always goes back to the memory of that quiet time and I think about Him because I know that through all His suffering on that day He was thinking about us.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Knowing

A seed sown by the winds of fate
Silently endures the wait
How does it sense the time for growing
It’s in the knowing

Suspended in the darkened sky
What sets them loose at last to fly
Their starlit paths behind them glowing
It’s in the knowing

They rhythmically caress the land
What force empowers the unknown hand
That in the night pulls back the flowing
It’s in the knowing

                From first breath and first halting steps
                What leads us through to final rest
                The constant of our lifeblood flowing
                 It’s in the knowing

                Seeking His love and His forgiveness
                Finding the path He’s set before us
                Feeling the faith within us growing
                It’s in the knowing
               

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Faithful Waters

One of my earliest childhood memories is of a tiny cottage that sat at the end of the road near our house.  It wasn’t much to look at but I couldn’t wait to visit the neighbors who lived there just so I could get a drink of water from their magic well.  I thought it was magic because the water was always on but it never ran out.
As you got close to cottage you would start to hear the sound of running water coming from the back yard.  It flowed from a small curved pipe that served as a spigot standing in the middle of a crumbling square of cement.  The water rushed out and drained through a metal grate and into a wide pipe in the ground, echoing off the sides as it met the waters deep below.  The Pipe, the grate and even the cement were covered in rusty orange from the iron rich water.  A thick glass beer mug hung from a wire hook on a wooden post nearby.  I remember how hard it was to hold the mug up under the furiously flowing water at just the right angle to capture a cold drink on a hot day.
The water never stopped flowing even during the coldest part of the winter.  It looked as though it had frozen in mid-air as ice reached from the mouth of the pipe to the ground, but you could still hear the sound of the water coming from the hollow center of the frozen flow.  That was over fifty years ago and the last time I took a drive to the old subdivision it was still flowing just as it had when I was a little girl.
When I read about Jesus offering the woman at the well streams of living water I think about that old artesian well.  What He offers is not a slow trickle but a never ending rushing flow so full of love and so powerful that we could never stand under the fullness of it.  It has been there throughout all of the seasons of our lives waiting for us to reach for a drink of His refreshing grace and mercy and it will never run out, because He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Steps

You came to me already named
No bottles to warm or diapers to change
No lullabies or stories shared
Or teaching you to say your prayers

I missed the precious moments that
With my own child love began
Your hopes and dreams already sown
By Memories I’d never know

I couldn’t ease the pain you felt
When in the night you’d cry for help
And though I’d run to you myself
I knew you longed for someone else

Another love you’d always have
Who knew your fears, your cries, your laugh
Even though you were apart
She would always have your heart

Wanting to love you
Wanting to help you
Wanting to find a way to tell you
That I was there no matter what
And that I never would give up

Trying to find an empty place
Within your lives and fill that space
To be whoever you needed then
Hoping your love at last to win

               I didn’t understand your ways
               I had to learn them as the days
               Of your lives were passing by
               No catching up although I tried

New memories across the years
Shared joys and sorrows that brought us near
Created a way for me to start
To climb the steps into your hearts

Sunday, March 3, 2013

How Many Times

How many hopes will come and go
How many times will the world say no
How many places will fail to be
The home that only my heart can see

How many people will turn away
How many dreams will end today
How many trials will come and go
Before I find my rest in hope

How many times can I forget
How many needs that You have met
How many times can I run to You
And ask forgiveness when I do

How many times can I seek you Lord
How many times find truth in Your Word
How many times feel You close to me
Knowing that You will never leave

How many stripes did He take for me
How many sins would You have seen
How many ways to eternal peace
If Jesus had never died for me

How many times will these questions be
Answered with Your Love for me
Seven times Seven through eternity
Grace sufficient for all my needs

How many times can I praise your name
My all in all, my everything