SIGNS....

Signs....everywhere!!!  Enjoy these wooden signs and the messages conveyed....

PRAYER.....it DOES work!!!

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....

Artistic Treasures on Earth, Greater Treasures in Heaven!!!

I posted many many more boxes

of treasures on my craft blog but wanted

to post something here reflecting on the word

"treasures".  

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

days before.

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",

don't you?

Blessings this Easter season!

Christ is Risen, Risen Indeed!!!!

The "Yellow Shirt" story....a good read!!!!

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

up.' 

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

drawer 

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 

good deeds.. 

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

57. 

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. 

"We like the illusion of having control...." quote

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."