The Little Calendar

As I checked out at a Bible book store on an October afternoon, I noticed the free calendars with sunflowers on it. With hopes of getting more organized, I put one in my purse. I realized I didn’t have much to organize accept a car payment and maybe someone’s birthday. I was twenty one years old, single but hoping to be married someday. I was in love with Larry Nihiser since the first day I met him at the root beer stand where I worked, and just knew he was going to be my husband. I will have to admit it took a determined woman to maintain this belief since it had been four years, including a two year stint in the army. But on October 24, 1969 he popped the question with one hitch. He wanted it to be soon and simple. First entry into one of the little squares in my little calendar. Like two weeks was the soon, November 7, 1969 and then there was, “I don’t care what you wear but I am wearing my brown suit” might very well be the simple. So where do we begin? The little squares began to fill with tiny writing representing something important I had to get done. There was marriage license to get at $20 and he never forgets to tell me he paid $20 for me. We had to talk to the preacher at a church I attended who insisted we have at least a couple of marriage counseling sessions and set the date for the wedding and the reversal. I called the florist and the bakery for the cake that would be served at a reception in the garage of my sister-in-law. I decided I would carry my grandma’s bible with an orchid on it. I chose my cousin Sharon for my matron of honor. Little squares on my little calendar were filling quickly. A wedding shower was planned for at the last minute. One after another, big plans were squeezed into little squares of my planner. Hair appointments, shopping for a dress which turned out to be a mini-gown with lace sleeves, and a small bow that came up to my chin. I paid $50 which was a lot for me. A borrowed pill-box hat with a veil and white satin shoes to finish me off. A special book given to me from preacher to pick out which vows we would recite. Rings was Larry’s department and became one of my most precious memories, which could never fit in a tiny square box. He came to my wedding shower, hurried me off to another room and gave me the rings I still wear today. He had just gotten them out of lay-away from a local jeweler. His face said, “This is real and I’m okay with it.” I was thrilled to be able to show my finger adorned with the beautiful ring. How would that ever fit into my little calendar. How could our “Marriage counseling sessions” where the importance of inviting God into our lives and home fit even into two squares of that little calendar, but somehow it did. Somewhere in all the chaos, we had to look for a place to live. We looked at several places but settled on a newer one that had never been lived in. It was one of five one bedroom apartments that was a whopping $125 a month but it was worth it to have this, though small, home to start out in. Our address 145 N Church Street, Decatur, Illinois. Zip codes were nonexistent at that time. My calendar was near capacity after that. My husband-to-be had saved enough money to buy all new furniture for this cute little apartment. So one box read, “Shop for furniture.” It’s amazing how much you can get into fourteen little squares in my sunflower covered calendar. This morning November 6, 2026 I have thought about those tiny boxes and the two weeks I had to prepare for our wedding, fifty seven years ago. Oh, and the vows I was to choose out of my special book came from the book of Ruth.

Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Ruth 1:16

Just as the fourteen tiny squares were packed with the squiggles and plans our lives have also been full with the blessings of the God of Ruth. There has been mountains and valleys, seasons of pain, yet so many more filled with the happiness and joy as each day we were blessed by the presence of a mighty God who looked at each tiny square before we ever squiggled a letter or made plan.

Colored Pencils Theology

 I will share a secret that I don't tell everyone. I love to color in those so-called "adult coloring books". I can sit for hours coloring all sorts of things while my troubles seem to fade into the background. All I have to decide, in my coloring book, is what colors I want to fill in the lines of the multicolored cat or the bouquet of flowers. You see, I get to choose in my coloring book world. I don't always get to choose which colors show up in my life. What color is a cancer diagnosis? Grey, or maybe black, would be appropriate with this horrible disease. Does a layoff at your job have a color? Blue, maybe, but then again, life can seem darker in these situations. Will I ever be able to find another job at my age? How will I be able to provide for my family? Is the death of an adult child filled in with the darkest of your colored pencils? At first, definitely black. Though if, while alive, she loved Christ, the darkness doesn't have to be so dark. The thought of seeing her again is the hope that sustains us, sunshine yellow, maybe. Would a loving God give us only black to color our lives? Do we dutifully accept that freshly sharpened black addition and place it handy to grab among the blue bell, the sunshine yellow, or the green apple pencils?

I listened to a video that offered two ways to consider these things, and I found it to be true and comforting. Those who try to help say this is all part of God's plan, which somehow doesn't help, but to an aching heart, it can be a disappointment from a loving God. When we read all throughout the bible that he loves us and even sent his son to die for our sins, we still wonder why we must go through the pain. He does tell us we can have his peace as we join hands with him.

I have told you this so that you will have peace by being united to me. The world will make you suffer. But be brave! I have defeated the world! John 16:33 GNT

That, to me, means that I can and should keep my black colored pencil because life is not without trouble, some translations say sorrow, but look for sunshine yellow daffodils in his word, gaze into the bluebell colored sky as you look to him for peace, or enjoy the apple green tree leaves that flutter in the warm breeze, also provided by our gracious God. Stay in the lines and don't let the darkness spill into the beauty of all that our loving God has given us to enjoy. We are told to keep that dark pencil close because even Jesus cautions that we will have trouble in this world.

I have never seen a box of all black colored pencils, and I would never buy it anyway. So place your black pencil in a place you can get to, because even Jesus said we would have tribulation or troubles in this life. But take heart, the scripture says. Guess what? You can have peace in Jesus. Why? Because he has defeated the world that only brings suffering.

Oh, good! The scripture in the middle of my coloring page says, "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7

I wonder what color "love" would be? 

I 

Anniversary

 

I wonder how many tears a person can cry in a year? How many bottles did you, my God, use to collect them as they fell from our eyes? I wonder this on the eve of the home going of my daughter Mendy Jill.

The bible says that this painful day for our family does not escape my Lord’s notice as I know He cares for us His children.

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8

Many times I have dared to imagine how you, sweet Mendy Lou, are doing, silly me, only to remember where you are. You suffer no more, you cry no more since our loving Lord has dried your tears. While our tears still flow and are collected here on earth your eyes are dried by the Savior’s own hand, forever.

You will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain for the old order of things has passed away. Revelations 21:4

In my grief and as usual, I have found a daily supply of comfort from our Lord through his Word. When my grandma died, I had never lost anyone I loved so much and I was clueless as to where to find comfort. As I paced the floor, my eyes fell upon an old family bible which I never read but was led that dark, night to cling to with all my might. I slept that night holding the fragile pages of the old book on my chest. These many years later I have thrilled at every letter of each word that has sustained me through good and bad times. John 14:1 Jesus tells me to trust my God and also trust Him (My Savior). And I do!

As I have pondered about what to write at this time, I remembered one evening that I sat with my girl, just her and me alone. The ravages of disease had taken a lot but her beautiful eyes sparkled at the thought of reading from the Holy Word. I chose Psalm 23 to share.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. At these first few words we both raised our hands in unison. Yes, He is our gentle shepherd we agreed. We are his little flock and he leads us, even in hard times, to quiet waters and a peace only our Good Shepherd gives. He refreshes our soul, yes we both shook our heads as I remember the weariness of these draining times. Though we walk through darkness we need not fear because you are with me. I sensed she prayed this for me more than herself. We both loved that he prepares a table before us, even in the grips of pain and disease. Oh, how she glowed at remembering how surely our cup overflows and that goodness and love will follow both of us all the days of our lives and to the afterlife. And Praise the Lord we shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

I have not considered this day, this anniversary of her death a celebration but isn’t it?

The Quilty Conscience

 

 

For many years I collected tiny dresses, soft cuddly sleepers and many clothes that belonged to my five daughters. I had tiny pink flowers on an infant sleeper, faded denim snatched from well-worn Osh Gosh outfit, and pink memories galore. In my mind’s eye, I see them in those precious clothes. Every time I cleaned out the girl’s closets I would stash the soft pastel fabrics with the least spit-up stains in the box labeled quilt fabric. As the box became fuller, I began to call it my “Quilty Conscience” box because of how bad I felt as I accumulated bits and pieces of my someday-to-be memory quilt.

I revisited an account in Deuteronomy 1 that talks of a time when God looked at the Israelites and reminded them that they too had been nursing a box of good intentions. They were camped at Horeb or it might be said in today’s language, they were chillin’ and grillin’ as all the while their “good intention” box filled. The unsaved world went hungry

The LORD our God said to us at Horeb, “You have stayed long enough at this mountain. Deuteronomy 1:6 NIV

What guilt do you carry? It’s not only quilt pieces I pack in a box and save to do someday, but I have also packed good intentions on ways I can serve my Lord. I hate the drawer I open by accident that holds greeting cards that I haven’t sent. I even addressed and stamped the sympathy card I intended to mail to a new widow in our church. How about the phone call you need to make to the lonely lady down the block. What did you kick as you went out the door? Could it be the cans of okra and spinach you gathered for the food bank? Above all, step away from that mountain, you have been there long enough. Open your eyes and obey God.

Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Matthew 28:19 NLT

 Isn’t there a coworker that needs to hear about Jesus. Could it be this would be a perfect time to talk to them about Savior? Could there be unbelievers, even in the shadow of your church steeple, who need hope in this hopeless world?

Just a note. My precious box was burned up in a fire so I no longer had to look at them, but I think of my bits and pieces of good intentions lost now forever. I don’t like thinking about that but praying the Holy Spirit would give me good intentions without that pesky Quilty Conscience.

I need to go into my world and make a difference, NOW! I have stayed to long at the mountain of good-intentions and a Quilty Conscience.

 

 

Wisdom in the Bottom Drawer

 

In the bottom of an old dresser in my parent’s room was a treasure waiting to be used. It was filled with handmade doilies, new pillowcases with lovely flowers embroidered with pastel pedals and stems, and Grandma’s old aprons. My favorite being the thread barren cotton aprons that showed the work that she had done. I can still see her with her faded apron to cover her house dress, as she worked in the hot kitchen. I have seen the floral aprons used as a hot pad, the soft fabric served also as a towel to dry her hands as well as a handy way to wash a child’s dirty face after licking chocolate cake batter from the mixing bowl. The beautiful new handmade things all laid in waiting for that special day when everything was perfect and good enough for such luxuries to be used. Being older, I have wished that I had the precious contents of that drawer in the bottom dresser drawer.  But the lesson that speaks to me today is worth even more than those special items. I do not want to be waiting to be used until a perfect time but as my grandma’s aprons, I want to be used up now.

Through the years I have heard unbelievers as well as believers speak of a better time to change their lives. I hear things like, "I'm going to get serious about my spiritual life when things are not as hectic as they are now, retirement is coming soon”. I will dedicate myself to God when my babies grow up. "I am not clean enough to approach a pure sinless God right now. Some who waited, still carry the fresh dirt of the world on their sandals as they try to get to the Savior to be cleansed. Still others say when they are old and don't want to have fun anymore, they will consider it. If only they knew of the joy that comes with our salvation. Sometimes, as my grandma's old aprons we feel we are used up and guilty of our past. Feeling unworthy, we wait until we get things in order. Can you see the repeating attitude here? Of course it is Wait. Maybe we feel better that we don’t exactly say no to God, but we can’t see that waiting is the same as no. Satan rejoices at the thought of those who cling to Wait. Even more we miss out on the treasures of serving our God. The sweetness of the comforter the Holy Spirit of our Lord.

Don’t wait to use those beautiful pillowcases or drag out those used up aprons and let God revitalize your somewhat faded calling to serve Our Savior.

Don’t Wait!

Glorious

 
Glorious
One of my favorites and yet haunting bible verses was uttered in a prison cell. Paul and Silas have been beaten, dragged and flogged before being put in stocks in a dreary dungeon. Amazingly these two servants of God, at about midnight, began to pray and sing hymns. Have you ever felt like Paul and Silas? I have felt beaten and flogged by life but unfortunately, I don’t remember singing at midnight. The most significant word in this passage is at the end where it is mentioned that “the other prisoners were listening to them”. Does that not catch your attention? In all our lives someone is listening and watching our lives. Many of those who hear are prisoners themselves in some way. Prisoners of hurt pain and sin. Does the chorus of your life sing out victory or failure. Most of the time we don’t praise God or sing until there is a victory when we are rewarded in our job, or just the right home is found and purchased or when a health issue is resolved but in reality we should sing hymns in praise to the Lord on all occasions. Yes, even hard things.
 
Across the vast four acres of the gigantic flea market where we had spent the morning digging through every imaginable thing known to man, I came across the familiar shape of an old watering can. The wear on the handle indicated that indeed this little bronze can had watered many thirsty plants in its day. The sweet watering cans have taken my heart since my youngest daughter died from cancer a few months ago. While she suffered, one special song gave her comfort. The song was “Flowers” sang by Samantha Ebert. And like my daughter this talented singer/songwriter suffered from illness and pain. Bedridden she prayed, “Why Lord, are you keeping me here?” Courageous to the end, my Mendy Jill trusted in her God. While the Master Gardener watered, Mendy scattered seeds to everyone she met. Seeds of trust, seeds of adoration for her Lord and the seeds of salvation. While in her valley she stood tall for her Lord telling everyone about the God of the Bible, but with her spirit she told of the Lord of her heart. Our sweet Mendy, like the song says, might have said also, “Lord, why are you keeping me here? To that I’m sure he said, child I’m planting seeds and I’m holding a watering can.” Someday you’ll see flowers grow in the valley. When asked what heaven was like, she gathered enough strength to raise her frail voice to say to me, “Glorious, just glorious, Mom.” Lost souls like the prisoners in the jail cell next to Paul and Silas heard singing and praising. The prisoners marveled at the God of hope these poor strangers sang about at the top of their voice. Mendy was unaware of those seeds of courage and love she planted in that valley.  All the while God’s watering can poured heavenly water on the waiting seeds. “Mendy! What is heaven like?” Glorious, just Glorious!
I will always remember the joy in her eyes when we packed up and moved here to be close to her. She squeezed my hand and said, Mama, we’ll never have to say goodbye again. On this earth, my sweet Mendy, we said goodbye one last time but never, never again. How will that be my sweetheart? Glorious, just Glorious!

 

True Grit

When I worked at the hospital, I would go into a patient’s room who was watching cowboy movies, and I would wish I was home covered in a fluffy blanket watching them myself. From a distance they looked so uncomplicated, but I can’t say they were really all that relaxing as I watch them now, since in just one episode, several people were shot, hanged for stealing a horse, or dragged by a horse until they were nearly dead. Oh, and how could I forget the cattle stampedes that mangled some poor cattle driver in a deadly accident, or was it really an accident?

I will say it took grit to go out west and deal with all the danger and very uncomfortable conditions. Many people risked their life picking up their belongings and putting them in a covered wagon and heading west. Indians on the warpath caused a constant fear, but still there is grit. Even so many even died before they arrived at their new home.

How many of us have “grit”? Are Christians supposed to have “grit”? It made me wonder if this is a good thing or bad.

There is that scripture that comes from 2 Corinthians.

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength, with God, making all things perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”  2 Corinthians 12:9.

The question now is, “Can we have this weakness and still have grit?” Can we be tempted to be proud when we have what some say is grit? First, I don’t think weakness is self-loathing or feeling downtrodden, but a realization of who we are in Christ. It is knowing who we are and who we are not. We are not God and to see that next to him we are weak is our invitation to humility.

 The definition of grit usually includes such words as courage, strength, and passion. Perseverance and dedication round out the characteristics of a person with true grit.

I think Paul is one who had true grit, yet he knows he is weak, according to scripture. After Paul asked for God to remove his “thorn” he realized that weakness gives us a dependence on our God. When we think about grit did Paul himself have grit? We all know he persevered through his trials, persecution and finally execution. He was determined to spread the gospel to Gentiles all the while his face was set toward Rome where he would be tortured and die. In Christ Paul had true grit that might have been born out of weakness.

If we take a look at people who are known for having grit there is one thing they all have in common. Think of Paul! Before Paul could have grit he had to have a passion and Paul’s passion was Jesus. When we have a passion for winning souls to Jesus it might start with a fear or weakness to testify about our journey to finding Christ. In this passage, he is saying that through your weakness, strength comes forth from our Lord. It is a God given grit or determination to do the will of the Father.

Have I waited for Jesus to turn my weakness to grit? Does the power of Christ rest on me?

Happy Trails to You!