Wednesday, November 13, 2013
How come it is usually the last thing we do instead of being the first thing done???
Been learning a lot about prayer.... I know I will never ever know enough. APPROACHING GOD by Steve Brown is a must read for everyone. He dispels many misconceptions and does it in a gentle, humble and yet, unforgettable way!!!
It is time to talk to the One who loves you more than anyone else....
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
I posted many many more boxes
of treasures on my craft blog but wanted
to post something here reflecting on the word
Often at this time of year, we spend
time in deeper reflection of what God
did through His Son than any other time of
the year....even Christmas as this
time is more contemplative as the great
celebration first involves great pain three
The great treasure of God's love for us
expressed through His Son and what
He was willing to do.....
.....well, I want to hold onto that tighter
than anything this world may call a "treasure",
Blessings this Easter season!
Christ is Risen, Risen Indeed!!!!
Saturday, February 16, 2013
The yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in
black thread and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear,
but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from
college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom
intended to give away.
'You're not taking that old thing, are you?' Mom said when she saw
me packing the yellow shirt. 'I wore that when I was pregnant with
your brother in 1954!'
'It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom.
Thanks!' I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object.
The yellow shirt be came a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it.
After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new
apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.
The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow
shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my family,
since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois .. But, that shirt
helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was
pregnant, 25 years earlier.
That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given
me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom.
When Mom wrote to thank me for her 'real' gifts, she said the
yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again..
The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at Mom and Dad's
to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen
table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt!
And so the pattern was set.
On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's
mattress I don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost
two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our
living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed
now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.
In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three children, I prepared
to move back to Illinois ... As I packed, a deep depression overtook
me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would
ind a job. I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In
Ephesians, I read, 'So use every piece of God's armour to resist the
enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will be standing
I tried to picture myself wearing God's armour, but all I saw was the
stained yellow shirt.. Slowly, it dawned on me.. Wasn't my mother's
love a piece of God's armour? My courage was renewed.
Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to
Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser
Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later I
discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet.
Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green across
the breast pocket were the words 'I BELONG TO PAT.'
Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added
an apostrophe and seven more letters.
Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, 'I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER.' But
I didn't stop there. I zig-zagged all the frayed seams, then had a
friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington , VA.
We enclosed an official looking letter from 'The Institute for the
Destitute,' announcing that she was the recipient of an award for
I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box.
But, of course, she never mentioned it..
Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding,
Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers.
After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I
eached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I
unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow
shirt. Inside a pocket was a note: 'Read John 14:27-29. I love
you both, Mother.'
That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room and found the
verses: 'I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And the
peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives.. So don't
be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but
I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be very
happy for me, for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I
am.. I have told you these things before they happen so that when
they do, you will believe in me.'
The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three months that
she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the following yearat age
I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave. But
I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game
she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in
college now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy
yellow shirt with big pockets.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Just finished a book by Francine Rivers called, And the Shofar Blew, a very powerful book of how life can be for a pastor and his family, the pressures from others and the pressures placed on ourselves in desiring to live for the Lord. The complexities of life for everyone involved and the battle the enemy relentlessly wages to tear down anything good. I could quote many places in the book, but for now, one stands out in a big way in my life and maybe yours too....
"We like the illusion of having control of our lives, that the sins we commit have nothing to do with anyone else. We close our eyes to the consequences and point the finger at someone else. Don't feel alone, Kat. I did more than my share of blaming."