The Weeping Prophet

When I was pregnant with one of my children, I was a crying, harmonal mess. I cried over everything , the wonders of pregnancy, a beautiful flower or "The Price is Right" a game show on TV at that time. Tears would flow over something bad as well as something good.


Back in those days people did not know if they were having a boy or girl but I was sure this one, after having all girls, would be a boy. Because of my "weeping", I had laughingly considered naming him Jeremiah after the Weeping Prophet. I don't think I even knew the story of this weepy man but I had heard him refered to as the "Weeping prophet". If you might wonder why Jeremiah was such a cryer, it was because of the destruction of Jerusalem. He cried as he walked through the ruins of that once great city of God. In The Book of Lamentations, we read Jeremiah's poetic account.


When I looked up lament in the dictionary, I found it meant "a passionate expression of grief or sorrow , wailing, moaning crying sobbing and weeping". If you are looking for something uplifting to read in the bible Lamentations would probably not be the one you should read. But buried in this book of poetic misery, is a three letter word that makes all the difference.....YET!


Yet...this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD'S great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." Lamentations 3:21-24


I would not have found these beautiful verses in this very dark book, if it had not been for someone very dear to me, showing them to me after a very difficult time in her own life. Are you lamenting? Have you gotten to the end of yourself and feel there is no hope or that God does not care about your grief? Read these scriptures again and believe that even in the darkest of times, the LORD'S compassion is new everyday.


Yet, even our weeping prophet, Jeremiah, found hope!

By the way, I didn't have a boy it was another girl and I cried as I met my little sweetheart!

Up To My Hubcaps

　
Because my husband had taken the car that foggy winter morning, I decided I could drive the old truck to bible study, even though it was a stick shift. Getting there went fine because I took the highway but on the way home I decided to take the country roads, thinking the fog had lifted. As I cruised along, I began to hit patches of fog that would temporarily decrease my visibility. Though I was somewhat worried about the fog my mind went back to the bible study and all that we had discussed, the words of encouragement and the prayer requests. As I pondered these things, I shifted gears automatically but was unaware that my speed was increasing. Suddenly on the other side of a foggy patch stood the usually familiar crossroad sign. I clumsily put my foot on the clutch to gear down and brake, but there was no time. Off I went into a muddy field with six inches of standing water. The truck hit the field with enough force to splash my windshield with a thick covering of mud and there I sat mired in good Illinois dirt up to my hubcaps. I thanked God that a car was not coming or that I didn't hit the telephone pole that stood dangerously close, then I prayed, Lord, please get me out of this mess! I started the truck, put my foot on the clutch, geared down to reverse and drove the truck out of the field without even a tire spinning. Barely believing what had just happened, I praised God all the way home.


Why did God answer this prayer out of so many I had prayed? I don't know except that I needed my own personal miracle that day. Have you ever needed that? I had been mired in a pit of discouragement over many things and had felt that my prayers were not getting through to God. I had prayed many times, get me out of this pit but it seemed I was just spinning my wheels.


Today I read a scripture that hit home with me. Isaiah 7:11 says..."Ask the LORD your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights".

 Although I didn't ask to run off into a cornfield, nor do I usually ask God for a sign, I received a sign that God was there.

After that day I began to slowly climb out of that pit and, as I did, I could see God more clearly. I began to feel more alive and I began to see prayers answered. I praise him for helping me out of that miry mess that day and for putting my feet firmly on the solid ground of his promises. Thank you, Heavenly Father for my own personal miracle.

The Pink Dress

One spring Sunday morning when I was no more than nineteen years old I had set out to go to church. I was wearing a new pink dress, pink high heels and sporting a white floppy hat. Though I was all decked out, my mode of transportation was not quite so stylish. That morning I had to take my Dad's 1947 Ford truck; not only was it not pretty, it often would not run properly. To my surprise the "ole girl" started without much fanfare so off I went. But true to form, the rust bucket began to sputter and stammer and came to a stop right on the side of the road. I knew what to do but hated to get my new outfit dirty. The carburetor needed "tweaked" that meant it needed to be smacked with the wrench that we kept on the floor on the passenger side of the old jalopy. I had to leave my floppy hat in the car for fear of the wind catching it and blowing it away. I grabbed the wrench opened the hood and began to take the dirty air breather off the carburetor. Trying not to touch the side of the truck, I gave the carburetor a blow with the wrench and pushed the idol leaver a notch to get it to run more smoothly. After putting all of the parts back in their place I got in, put the truck in first gear and I was off to church, floppy hat, pink high heals and slightly dirtied pink dress.


Today I thought of how these two worlds often clash. I don't mean just our pink dress versus a dirty ole truck but our church world versus the imperfect world around us. Sunday I sat across from a young man with an obvious mental disorder, who periodically would raise his hands at inappropriate times. His arms would flail as his head would sway from side to side. But as he swayed, a loving arm of a woman next to him would wrap around his shoulders to comfort him. In front of me was an old woman in a wheelchair who would clap her hands with the music. A young couple came in and sat next to her and my heart was touched as the young woman grabbed the elderly woman's hand and began to sway to the music, as if dancing, bringing a big smile to the old woman's face.


I wondered, as I sat in church watching these two examples of love, if I would be so compassionate. Would I shy away from the " imperfect" for fear of being inconvenienced ? Would I risk "getting dirty" to love as Jesus said to love.


For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you invited me into your home. I was naked and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison and you visited me.
Then these righteous ones will reply, Lord when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?
And the King will say, "I tell you the truth when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!"  Matthew 25:35-40

When Job Prayer For His Friends

Because of a jaw problem, I had to get a MRI. If you have ever had one of these torturous procedures done, you know how claustrophobic one can get in this confined space. But what made my experience even more intolerable was the fact that they needed to stabilize my head. The technicians placed my head in a box that was just a bit bigger than my head and filled my mouth with tongue depressors to widen my mouth to get a better image of my jaw. Then they did the unthinkable. They closed the little door on the top of the box which was only an inch from my nose. They made the mistake of asking me if I was okay and had to open the little door three times before I was able to have my whole body pushed into the narrow cylinder. Shortly after, the fun began! The machine made a terrible noise that sounded like a loud dentist drill and of all things, the technicians left the room and watched me from outside the room. Fear that these people had forgotten all about me, began to fill my mind and I was sure that I was going to yank my head off trying to get out of this contraption. My palms were sweaty and my heart was pounding out of my chest. I would have screamed for help if it had not been for the tongue depressors in my mouth. I knew I had to calm myself if I was not to decapitate myself. I prayed, "God help me!" I begged, "Lord please get me out of this mess!" but nothing seemed to help. Finally, it came to me to "pray for others". So I did, I prayed for all of my family, friends and even the mailman. I prayed for the president and his family as well as the entire church staff, their children and even their pets. Still the grinding went on but I was in another place now. I was thinking about others rather than myself. I prayed on! Finally it was over and I was relieved and certainly all prayed up.


The scripture I read this morning made me think of this harrowing experience.
"When Job prayed for his friends, the LORD restored his fortunes. In fact, the LORD gave him twice as much as before!"


Sometimes my prayer life is all about me. I groan and complain about what's going on in my life and forget that there is a world out there that is in need of prayer. Lord, help me not have to wait until my head is in a box to remember others.

Maker Of Heaven And Earth

"...I tell you the truth if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there and it would move. Nothing would be impossible." Matthew 17:20


Do you have any mountains in your life? I do! Illness, unsaved love ones, and insurmountable debt might be among those things that seem like "mountains" in our lives. Sometimes I even call them "my mountains". I pray, " LORD, please move that mountain, cure that impossible disease, save that one who does not know you or has walked away from you". The bible says that we need only to have faith as small as a mustard seed to move mountains. Surely I have that much faith but still these things remain, "my mountains".

Psalm 121:1-2 says, "I lift my eyes toward the mountains. Where will my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth." This morning I lifted my eyes to see, once again, the mountains in my life, those things that are immovable and out of my control. I prayed Lord please move this mountain! I say it again, "LORD, MOVE THIS MOUNTAIN" but as I lift my eyes "my mountain" still looms high against the horizon. What am I to think, as my heart becomes discouraged and I ask why? Today, the LORD whispers, "Trust me!" I hear your heart. "I AM the Maker of heaven and earth".

His Name

Thomas.....M.....Tyson the speaker from the podium announced in choppy, military fashion. I will never forget how we waited for his name to be called and how proud we were when we heard it.

At this, my dad, already frail from lung disease, rose to his feet. He was soon accompanied by a young soldier in his dress uniform and white gloves who stood respectfully in front of him. The young man raised his gloved hand to salute this old soldier who dutifully fought in World War 11 and on this occasion was being honored as a POW. Again the soldier's hand raised to salute this man who spent twenty six months in a POW camp.

I thought of this scene when I began to sing the chorus to the familiar song about the Lord's name, "Oh Lord, our Lord how majestic is your name in all the earth". How majestic is his name! Can you feel the power in this phrase? As I thought about this song, I looked up the scripture and found it in Psalm 8:1. Oh, Lord, our Lord how majestic is your name in all the earth. The King James bible renders it, "How excellent is thy name". Do you feel it? My heart is suddenly quickened as I hear his majestic name and I raise my hand to salute our majestic God.

　

Awesome Wonder

HOW GREAT THOU ART!
I dedicate this writing to my Mother whose favorite song is "How Great Thou Art"!

" O Lord my God. When I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds Thy hands have made." My eyes moistened as I sang the words to this familiar hymn, this morning at church. By the time we got to the chorus, my hand was up as a witness to His greatness. "Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee..... The cares I brought into the sanctuary this morning melted away as we sang with power, "HOW GREAT THOU ART, HOW GREAT THOU ART!"


Being caught up in my own worship, I suddenly began to notice the hands fly up as each was blessed by the beautiful words. My eyes went to a young woman who raised her hands, I'm sure with thankfulness for the new life that she carried within her. A friend raised her hand giving worship to the Lord that has sustained her during her husband's long illness. But the raised hand of one of our elderly saints grabbed my heart most and filled my heart with hope. With oxygen flowing, He had to be supported by his nurse as he determinedly stood to his feet. Though barely a whisper he sang with powerful conviction ..."When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation. And take me home what joys shall fill my heart." Instead of an open hand he raised his hand in a fist as if to declare victory as the words passed his frail lips. "Then shall I bow in humble adoration and there proclaim, MY GOD HOW GREAT THOU ART, HOW GREAT THOU ART!

Whether raising a young family, caring for the ill or facing the challenges of old age, He is still our Sustainer! My God, how great you are!