What's Under Your Hood!

We were so excited to visit with friends who we hadn’t seen in several years. We caught up on kids, jobs and everything that mattered to us all but this man was biting at the bit to show us his prized possession. We had noticed the beauty as we came up to his house, it was a beautifully restored yellow Thunderbird. This beauty brought back memories to us all, as we remembered it’s sleek body and sporty look in days gone by. The paint was perfect with chrome strips and bumpers. The original hub caps gleamed in the afternoon sun and the interior was as perfect as the day it rolled off the showroom floor. We all commented that we could almost smell the “new” in it. He was proud of the original knobs that turned the windshield wipers off and on and the old radio that was set to play the songs of that era. He had pictures of his car from every angle, inside and out that he hung proudly on his garage wall but the only thing it didn’t have was POWER, it had no engine. Our friend ran out of money so the beautiful car could only sit there looking pretty.

I thought of this today as I studied the with my daughters via Facebook, “The Power of a Woman’s Words”. We can try to control our words, we can try to win others to Christ with our words but the truth is in our own strength, without the POWER of the Holy Spirit we are like the beautiful car sitting in the driveway we are going no where.

In the book we were asked to look at Peter’s life before the Holy Spirit in Matthew 26:69-74 with the Peter we see in Acts 2:14-41. In the account in Matthew we see a , once “shiny car“, who was ready to die for Jesus, reduced to a frightened man who denied he even new the Savior but in the Acts account we see a bold Peter filled with the POWER of the Holy Spirit proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In verse 41 we see that three thousand were added to their number that day. What could we “the Church” do today if we would do as Jesus said and tarry until we are filled with the Holy Ghost!

In the last days, God says, I will pour our my Spirit on all people. Acts 2:17

Satan has nothing to worry about as long as we sit in our driveways looking pretty, but oh how we could shake him up if we actually had the POWER under our hoods. I so often try to do things in my own strength and find frustration and failure, but it is time we all begin to live in the POWER of the Holy Spirit! Come Holy Spirit we need you!

Mice Are Such Encouragers!

Lord, thank you for mice, they are such encouragers! Can you believe I actually said that? I can’t either but it is part of my new attitude adjustment.

Today I had to, again clear my cabinets and drawers and begin the arduous task of washing everything, just in case one of those dirty , I mean encouraging, rodents had walked on, ran on or anything else on them. In the country I am used to field mice coming for a visit but we have been "blessed" more this year than ever before. Lord, I said, “just when I decided that I needed a better attitude and was making the effort to be thankful, I am being tested to see how serious I really am.” “So Lord, what can I say about these mice?” I grumbled. I tried to think of how I should be grateful for these critters. I had to somehow think of them in a good way as one of God's creation but my heart wasn't in that either as I grew weary from my task. Finally I had it! I am thankful for being encouraged to clean my kitchen even if it is a member of the rodent family who encourages me. Wow, am I good or what?

After getting that out of the way, I had a long list of things I was thankful for like the beautiful day and cool breezes coming through my window this morning and it goes without saying my wonderful husband and my family! Okay! So far so good! And how about depression? “Okay Lord, can we talk about the mice some more? How could I ever be thankful for depression?” I questioned. I had just been through a few weeks of dealing with that “thorn in my side” and I find it impossible to be thankful for this thing that takes so much from me. That thing which robs me of days I should be living my life to the fullest? Days I could be doing something for the Lord? Days wasted with a dark cloud that follows me everywhere I go? Days when my husband tries to find something that will cheer me (and he is pretty funny). Days when sleep is my friend. “Okay Lord, I give!” I said out loud.

Then the thought that came to me was a scripture that I had read many times, one of my favorites from Psalms.

I lift up my eyes to the hills-- where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven the earth. Psalms 121:1-2

Thank you Lord, I needed that! My help does come from you! Though you don’t ask me to be thankful for depression, you ask me to be thankful IN it because you work everything for my good. Praise God, my help does come from you.

“Now go strengthen your bretheren” Oh, now I get it! Thank you, precious Lord, you are brilliant!

And thank you for my furry encouragers, may they rest in peace, I mean may they feel peaceful!

La vie en rose!

In talking with my granddaughter, Allison a few months back she told me she loved the song La vie en rose by Louie Armstrong, intrigued by this I looked this beautiful song up on the net. As soon as I heard it I recognized it but had not thought of its title. In French this means "Life in Pink" or "Life in Rosy Hues" It was made popular by Edith Piaf who was nicknamed "Little Sparrow" because of her beautiful voice.

As I reminisce about Allison who will graduate from high school today, I couldn't help but think about this sweet girl who sees things that others might miss. I remember standing in front of a Norman Rockwell painting with Allison who was probably not more that 4 years old, she was mesmerized by the folksy characters portrayed by Rockwell. It was as if she could understand the artist and asked a question way beyond her years concerning a little boy in the scene. As a grandma I pondered this and was sure her genius would flourish, as she grew older. As her favorite song implies, she sees things in rosy hues, which is captured in her photography. When we see a common tree Allison sees the beautiful bark, or maybe deep holes formed by scarring catches her eye, when passing a wheat field she sees a photo op. One winter when Allison was here, she took pictures of the frozen field behind us, our rickety back porch and the road in front of our house and made it come alive because it was captured through the eyes of one who finds beauty in everything. She took pictures of the field in contrast to the warm morning sun rise, the road in front of our house was made lovely as her camera sat at ground level, capturing happy feet on a winter walk and my eyes filled with tears at a shot of herself on the rickety porch with the caption "I'm home!

Though the bible would never advocate not see things realisticly, it does have something to say about what we think about. Allison reminds me so much of one of my favorite scriptures in Philippians.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

This lovely young woman sees things in rosy hues, she sees life in pink but she is not deceived by the glamor and bling. She is comfortable in jeans and a funky hat but shines in a formal gown, she can be funny enough to be a perfect Gertrude McFluff but is serious enough to care for unborn children. She lives her life, even at 17, thinking on whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, excellent, praiseworthy. She loves the Lord who gave to her a glorious uniqueness, as she sees life in rosy hues. La vie en rose!

My Search For Baby Bryant?

For a long time, I have wanted to trace my ancestry. I have been intrigued by old pictures with frowning faces. Have you ever wondered why folks didn't smile when they were having their pictures taken back then? It might have been because it took so long to take a picture, unlike now when things including photos are so instant. One picture of my Grandpa and Great Grandpa made them almost look sinister. Jokingly, I wondered what kind of skeletons could be in my closet.

As I began my search, I was rewarded pretty quickly with birth records, death records and I gleaned much from Census records dating back to the 1800s. I found old pictures that I was thrilled to find and could even trace back to find a line of women who carried and passed down the name "Catherine". I was able to find a Great Great Grandmother with the name and continuing down to my Mom, my daughter and two granddaughters the youngest being my Jenna Catherine who is three years old.

I was so happy to find what I found but there was one little lost boy that I am still searching for. He was my Mom's baby brother who was stillborn. Having a stillborn child was not uncommon back then but because of circumstances surrounding this dear child's birth, the whereabouts of his grave is a mystery. He probably doesn't even have a grave stone or marking. This baby might always be lost except to my Mom and my uncle Rex who in recent years have needed this closure to this painful memory. So I will go on with my search for baby Bryant, a lost little boy.

Jesus told three parables about things lost. The lost sheep, the lost coin and a lost son. In all three, Jesus was saying that he doesn't give up on the "lost"! That even though he has many who believe, he is not satisfied until all have come to him. Aren't you glad? I am! Otherwise, I would not have come to hear his voice. Whether a lost sheep, lost coins, lost little boys or lost souls he never stops searching. Praise God! Can you hearing Him calling?

Then Jesus told them this parable: "Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn't he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.' I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. (Luke 15:3-7 NIV)


Sent from Jeanie!

Potato Salad Logic!

“Wait until the potato salad is gone!” That’s what I heard myself saying today as I reached for the giant bowl of homemade potato salad we had for dinner yesterday. It tasted good yesterday but you know how potato salad is, it tastes better the next day. It’s Monday and I usually like to start my diet AGAIN on this day of the week. I have stuffed myself all weekend and was determined to eat good, starting Monday but Monday is here and when I spied the potato salad, I decided to WAIT once again! I told myself that it would be better if I started another time when that tempting potato salad was out of sight. And besides I want to enjoy myself as I eat every morsel. As you might have guessed this is an every Monday ritual for me. WAIT WAIT WAIT!

Does that sound familiar to anybody but me? I am a procrastinator by nature so the potato salad plan strikes me as a sound plan! But....

*One day, Satan called all the demons together to come up with some good ideas to keep the lost from being saved. The Prince of Darkness was concerned that the gospel was being accepted all over the world. One of the devilish demons raised his hand and stated his plan with glee. He said “I think we should temp them all with all manor of sin, like sexual sin, drugs and of course greed.” “Yeah,” another said agreeing with the first demon. The next demon stood and went to the front of the room to pitch his plan. “I think we should attack the clergy and those who would bring the plan of salvation to the lost. You know how the flock scatters when the shepherd falls into sin?” With that the demons all stood and applauded this great plan, with their hideous, mocking laughter shaking the whole room. The third demon stood and congratulated the others for their ingeniously, evil plans but I have the best plan of all. At this Satan’s attention was piqued, “Now what would that be" he asked the confident demon? “Tell them that salvation is the best thing in the world, in fact it is the only way to get to heaven. Remind that they will find peace and love in knowing Christ.” he said as he sat down and crossed arms across his chest. At this the demons were covering their faces, booing and hissing at the replies of the third demon. “How can you say that?” “Do you not know this is just the opposite of what these people need to know?” Satan was also up on his feet waiting for an explanation from the diluted demon. “Please, sit down, you haven’t heard my whole plan yet.” the third demon screeched at the hysterical crowd. With a nod from the evil head of Satan the demons were seated to hear the rest of the story. “It’s simple”, the third demon proclaimed! You tell them the truth, you tell them about the wonderful things that would come about if they just asked Jesus into their heart but then you tell them……but don’t do it now you have plenty of time. Wait! Just wait!”

Wait until the potato salad is gone!

*This story was adapted from a story I heard years ago.

CATHERINE!

CATHERINE

As I looked through my family tree, I found many with the name of Catherine which means BLESSED, PURE AND HOLY!

In 1838 Eliza Catherine (Bray) Roney my great great grandmother was born.

In 1869 Nellie Catherine (Roney) Camp my great grandmother was born.

In 1860 Lucy Catherine (Gardner) Ferrill my great grandmother was born.

In 1926 Verna Catherine (Camp) Tyson my mother was born.

In 1972 Nealy Catherine (Nihiser) Lourash my daughter was born.

And June 9,1995 Catherine Grace Lourash my granddaughter was born.

The first time I layed eyes on Catherine Grace I was in love! She was wriggly and red but to me she was a delight and as she got older, DELIGHTFUL was the way I would always described her. She was one who enjoyed pushing her little pink toe over the imaginary line drawn by her parents, so some might have described her as a strong willed child but I always found her DELIGHTFUL.

I remember one Christmas season, the rest of the family went out to get a Christmas tree while her and I stayed home and made cookies. We talked, while she stirred the batter, poked her little fingers in the cookie dough and had more flour on her than was in the bowl. We cut out the cookies with care and placed them all on the cookie sheet, I turned away for just a second to turn on the oven and when I turned back all the cookies were already grabbed up, rolled in a ball and ready to re-cut! I laughed and again thought DELIGHTFUL!

I remember the story I was told about Cati’s trip to the eye doctor. She had complained about not seeing well, which also coincided with several girls in her grade school class getting glasses that year. The wise doctor asked her to read the chart with the letters of different sizes. Squinting and getting most of them wrong, the doctor seeing her struggle placed a pair of pink glasses on her face. Happily, Cati read the chart again, but this time she read the letters with ease. The only thing sweeter than her pink glasses was her huge smile. Who knew seeing could make a little girl so happy! At that, the doctor put his two fingers through the frames of the glasses, touching Catherine’s surprised eyes. The glasses had no lenses. DELIGHTFUL!

Easter at our church always means “Passion” a performance that beautifully depicts the life of Christ. This year Catherine sang a moving song that brought tears to my eyes. Not only did I love the words and the beautiful way she sang but I love the young woman that she has become. I love that she knows the Lord and I love the way she lives her life blessing others. I love the way she has called on the Lord to help her through many difficult times in her young life. I love the person that has gone from a DELIGHTFUL child to a DELIGHTFUL young woman. Happy Birthday Catherine Grace! Like those Catherines before you, you wear your name well. BLESSED, PURE AND HOLY! And DELIGHTFUL!

I love you so much Cati Grace!

My Story!

This is an article that I submitted to a Christian magazine today. Will have to wait to see if it is published.

As I think of "My Story" all I can think of is "Why Me"! Wait! It is not what you think! Let me explain; I was born in Bloomington, Illinois in 1948 and grew up much like others in that era. My dad was a railroader and my mom was a housewife. As I grew up, I always had a hunger for God. I cannot remember a time when I didn't pray or when I didn't walk in the light that he provided. I was your typical bus kid and throughout my childhood I climbed the steps of many church buses from many different churches. When I got a little older I walked to a nearby church. I have never understood why I desired to know God so early in my life. Why was I so blessed? I certainly was not more deserving, so again I say "why me?". When I married, I married a man who came from a home much like mine who was not a believer, but within a few months of our marriage he was saved and made Christ the center of our home! Why me, Lord? Remember me Lord, the product of an alcoholic home! Remember me, not especially smart, pretty or even the least bit important? What possible good could a girl like me be to the brilliant, beautiful creator of everything? I even now shake my head in disbelief. A few months ago I came across a scripture and my loving heavenly Father gave me the answer.

He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 18:2-3

Of course I had read these verses many times but as I read, I started to wonder about that child that Jesus took in his strong arms that day. Did that precious one always remember that day? Instead of a name, did the other kids say "hey! There goes the kid that the savior lifted into His presence to teach a great lesson.". That's the one!

What kind of an adult, grew from this special child! I could imagine this little one having the notion that there could never be a more important place to be, than standing next to Jesus, no matter what life from that point would throw him. I tried to imagine how I as a child would have reacted to being thrust into the spotlight and standing next to Jesus. How would one so undeserving as I, feel about being blessed with the presence of the precious Jesus, so young. Why me, Lord?

In a voice as gentle as a warm summer breeze, the Lord spoke softly to my heart......."You are that child"!

Thank you, Lord for pulling me up so close that I have never wanted to leave!


Sent from Jeanie!

The Lighthouse!

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.

Psalm 119:105

I love the phrase “Doing Life Together” in fact I first come across the phrase in one of my favorite books “The Purpose Driven Life”. Many churches use that as part of their logo, including mine. Doing life together in our churches means that we have a sanctuary to go to with people who believe as we do. Jesus talked much in the bible about this very thing. “We are to strengthen the Brethren”! But let us not get so comfy that we forget the lost!

It seems there was an old lighthouse that was really an eye sore for the community. It was old and greatly in need of repair. The window shutters hung haphazardly, the paint was peeling and much of the window glass was broken. The only thing that did remain in working order was the old lamp that the lighthouse keeper lit every night like clockwork. The lighthouse keeper was much like the structure he loved, old and in bad repair. In his youth, he flew up the stairs to do his duty but now moved slowly up the stairs to the top of the lighthouse, his knees cracked and he stopped many times to rest but he felt such a calling to keep his lamp lit in case some ship might not know her way. His many years of service had called him several times to risk his life to show a wayward ship the way to safety.

The dignified little village that surrounded the lighthouse was clean, well maintained and was talked about throughout that area for it neat appearance. The lighthouse was a topic of discussion at the town meeting where it was decided that it should be torn down if they were maintain their good standing. As this news came to the keeper of the lighthouse he determined that to the last minute he would make his nightly trip to the top to light the lamp. As he lit the lamp and made his way down the stairs the strong wind blew so hard he could hardly stand and the chill made him shiver. As he settled into his little cottage next to the lighthouse, he could not get the lighthouse and its fate out of his mind. Who would be a light for the lost now that this light would go out? Sometime during his ponderings he heard voices. It had been some time since he had heard the desperate pleading of someone lost at sea but sure enough he heard voices. He ran out just as the battered boat pulled into the tiny harbor. Grateful voices greeted him and thanked him for the light that led them to safety. As in years gone by he ran for blankets to warm these strangers as well as hot coffee to take off the chill.

As word traveled around town about the rescue another meeting was called but this time it was about restoring the old lighthouse. The people were proud that “their” lighthouse had saved these lives. Everyone went to work getting the grand structure back to its original beauty. It was so beautiful that they decided they should make it a meeting place, a place where the towns people could come in and enjoy the beauty.

As time went on the people forgot about the lamp and the lost because they were so involved in the socializing that went on at their newly decorated lighthouse. The lighthouse keeper still lit the lamp and attended the wicks but had to find his way through a maze of pretty furniture and fine wares to get up to the lamp. One particularly bad stormy season the lighthouse saved many from a watery death but when they were brought into the finely carpeted lighthouse the townspeople did not give them a warm welcome. Instead, another meeting was called to discuss the fact that these who were brought ashore by the light from the lighthouse made such a mess on the new floor and furniture and besides interrupted the meetings that were going on in the lighthouse. It was decided that the “lost” just didn’t fit in so the lamp would no longer stand as a beacon to safety. This time the old keeper had no choice but to stop lighting the lamp and the lost perished for lack of light.

When I think of ministering to the lost, I think of my son-in-law Shane Smith. When I met Shane he was a feisty, handsome young man with a heart on fire for the lost. So many times when we were out as a family I remember Shane witnessing to strangers that I probably walked around not even noticing. Many of these people listened to the words of this young evangelist and went on their way but several came to his church. He served as a youth pastor for many years and brought in a motley looking bunch of people seeking God. I remember one time he was approached by a “committee” of people who didn’t like the appearance of the lost people who attended his youth meetings. They were scruffy, crude and left people to ask what kind of church was this? His answer to that question then and now is we are a people “doing life together” but at the same time we are a beacon of hope for those who do not know Christ! The world is a shivering wet mess, may we never get so comfortable that we forget to trim the lamp so they know where to come.

　

Many years ago I came across a story that I will try to relay to you in my own words, I don‘t remember the title or author but here it is paraphrased (by Jeanie).

A Rose by Any Other Name....

Photo by Jeanie Nihiser

Back in the days when it was rare to find nonsmoking sections in restaurants, we went to a new diner that was just opening and was politely asked "smoking or nonsmoking?". We jumped at the chance to try out the new nonsmoking section. As we were led to the section that was labeled "no smoking" it was apparent they were not expecting many customers to take them up on this new feature because there was only two tables that were only a few feet from the "smoking" section which was the rest of the restaurant. As we sat down, got our food and as usual thanked God for his blessings, we noticed that the table next to us was blowing smoke at us. I could hardly believe it, the rudeness of these people. Though we ignored this attack, I am sure smoke was coming from my ears as well.

As we left the restaurant, I reeked of smoke, an unpleasant reminder of the mean spirited people who chose to make some kind of statement with their rudeness. I thought of that incident today, though I hadn't thought of it in years. In 2 Corinthians I read that we should spread everywhere we go, the fragrance of the knowledge of him. According to the dictionary a fragrance is a sweet delicate aroma. The first thing that come to mind was the fragrance and simplicity of a rose not over powering or obnoxious but delecate and beautiful! The smell of the smoke had hung on me because of the hour I had spent there in the "nonsmoking" section eating our meal. Does the sweet, delicate aroma of the knowledge of God hang on me also as I spend time reading his word to gain in knowledge of him. Do I carry that aroma out into the world as Christ's ambassador?

I wonder sometimes when we as Christians go to restaurants, stores or other places of business if our aroma is always sweet and delicate. Can the waitress or clerk tell by your patience and kindness that we are the bearers of the knowledge of God or do they smell the putrid smell of disrespect and rudeness? Can the smell of a judgmental attitude hang in the air like smoke as we interact with others.

I wish I could say my aroma is always sweet and delicate but while I strive for this, I don't always accomplish it. I am so glad that God doesn't kick me out of school but waves me back into his classroom for more instruction, so I can gain more knowledge of Him. My prayer is that I am to God an aroma of Christ......a fragrance of life.



But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task? (2 Corinthians 2:14-16 NIV84)










Sent from Jeanie!