Gifts of a Bus Kid

Gifts of a Bus Kid Christmas is the season of “gift-giving”! We buy robes, PJs, and electronics galore and wrap them in colorful paper. Gift certificates in tiny envelopes are hung on the tree or put in stockings for those hard-to-buy-for people in our lives. I have read in the bible about the “gifts” or talents God gives to each of us. Some say they have no gifts, but the bible would disagree. Gifts are not all the same, just as the broad array under your tree is not the same. Some people can sing; some can preach; still, others teach. I knew a precious saint who had the talent to put a beautiful flower arrangement together to set on the piano for Sunday morning service. I loved the faithful one who cooked for big church gatherings as if cooking for two and the volunteer who welded together the very stage that held those who would minister in teaching, preaching, and bring us a song. Sometimes people don’t recognize these things as gifts, but they are just the same. Some days I doubt my worth in the Kingdom. I mull over my supposed “gifts” and wonder if they are from God. When I was younger, I fed babies in the nursery, taught 4th graders about Jesus, and was a clown named Cleofa at Bible School. All things I could see and touch. But now I write! Old fingers fly over the keys to type words on a page that flitters out of my heart and mind. Sometimes I feel very vulnerable putting my thoughts out there, not knowing if anyone will read them or like them. For the last several months, I have been planning to self-publish a book of devotions. I have over five hundred writings of the previous ten years and new ones that I try to write weekly. The enemy taunts me that I’m just a nobody and could never write a book that anyone would read. Even at my age, my mind can still go back to the days I climbed aboard any church bus that would take me to church. I knew nearly nothing of the God that I met in those tiny Sunday School rooms with brightly painted kid-sized chairs. I remember the first time I learned that I could pray to God; even as a child, it changed my life. I scribbled “oTeach Us To Pray” onto red construction paper, made crooked lips, and pasted them on my masterpiece. At times, I compare what others know of the bible and writing and wonder if I still belong in the tiny room with brightly colored chairs. But as my “big girl” self, I know the scripture in 2 Corinthians is true. Only God can qualify us and enable us to be ministers of his New Covenant. 2 Corinthians 3:5-6 It’s not that we think we are qualified to do ANYTHING (capitals mine) on our own. Our qualification comes from God. He has enabled us to be ministers of his New Covenant. As long as these fingers can plunk out a word to glorify my Lord, I will trust Him to give me the courage to do that in His name and for His sake.

Lord, I'm Coming Home

Lord, I’m Coming Home So he got up and went to his father. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him. Luke 15:20 When I was growing up, “coming home” didn’t mean too much to me. It usually meant a quick run from a neighbor’s house to mine or maybe coming home from my grandma’s house thirty miles away. My Aunts and Uncles and grandparents lived locally and never had to “come home.” Until my kids moved to other states all over the country, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” meant no more than a whimsical tune that I liked to sing during the holidays. That same song now sometimes comes with great anticipation as I look forward to my kids coming home. Jesus told the best “coming home” story ever in a parable. It was about a young man who wanted to strike out and see the world past his father’s fence line. Things were old fashion, dull, with the excitement around there non-existent. However, there was a catch. He wanted his inheritance before his father had even died so he could enjoy it in his youth. Amazingly the father agreed, and off the prodigal son went looking for what he thought he couldn’t find at home. The wayward boy soon squandered the inheritance on wild living and was reduced to feeding pigs. It was then that the prodigal decided to go home to his Father, who ran to him with open arms. In my search, I found a slow and steady song with a rather solemn tone, “Lord, I’m Coming Home” by William J. Kirkpatrick, published in 1892. Kirkpatrick wrote these lyrics with a young soloist in mind. This boy sang his solo at the church where William was music director and then quickly left before the sermon. Upon finishing the song, he asked the young man to sing his new song. This evening he decided to stay for the sermon and found the Lord at an alter of prayer. Coming home can mean many things, but it seems that it always generates joy. Whether coming home to a childhood home at Christmas, returning to God as a sinner forgiven or the ultimate coming to our heavenly dwelling, the Father’s arms will be open wide to greet us. Open wide Thine arms of love, Lord, I’m coming home. Lord, I'm Coming Home Hymn Lyrics I’ve wandered far away from God, Now I’m coming home; The paths of sin too long I’ve trod, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain Coming home, coming home, Nevermore to roam, Open wide Thine arms of love, Lord, I’m coming home. I’ve wasted many precious years, Now I’m coming home; I now repent with bitter tears, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain I’m tired of sin and straying, Lord, Now I’m coming home; I’ll trust Thy love, believe Thy Word, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain My soul is sick, my heart is sore, Now I’m coming home; My strength renew, my hope restore, Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain My only hope, my only plea, Now I’m coming home; That Jesus died, and died for me. Lord, I’m coming home. Refrain I need His cleansing blood, I know, Now I’m coming home; O wash me whiter than the snow, Lord, I’m coming home.

Is It Over Yet

Is It Over Yet? Like many, when I think of this year, I shake my head. But thankfulness comes to mind even if Christmas ornaments wear colorful masks and jokes dominate Facebook about the chaos we call 2020! Our new vocabulary includes “social distancing,” and big Xs point the way to our destination in grocery stores, pharmacies, and hospital procedures. Yes, 2020 deserves all the bad press that comes its way, but my mind goes back to last year at this time. I was still basking in the blessings of our 50th Wedding Anniversary celebration. I renewed vows to love my best friend for as long as I live in front of our whole family. That has not changed! We proclaimed that our God Jehovah was indeed our guiding light and Savior, and that certainly remains true to this very day. Have we had bumps along the way, yes but God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Early in the year, we learned that Missy’s cancer had returned, and she was in for the fight of her life. I had to return again and again to the final song we sang at our anniversary celebration. “Because He Lives,” the voices of my family rang out as they joined us in singing this beautiful promise. “Because He Lives I can face tomorrow.” Missy never turned her back on this God who accompanied her along this journey called cancer. She could not “social distance” herself from this long and hard road she found herself on. Still, her trust was in His sovereignty and love. I have seen many prayers answered this year, as well as His protection in automobile accidents, surgeries, and significant falls that could have been deadly turn out a few bumps and bruises. I have seen big moves happen, Oregon to Illinois with the safety of the Father’s hand, big decisions made, and Oliver turn 1, a signal that life goes on even in a crazy year! God did not turn away from us on January 1st, 2020; in fact, the bible says that He bends down to listen to us, and He requires no mask or social distancing. Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath! Psalm 116:2 Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. Philippians 4:6

Yes, Kelly, It Is Christmas Here!

Yes, Kelly, It Is Christmas Here? This Christmas has been different for us! We packed our clothes, locked our house, and left our Christmas adorned home to come to San Diego, CA, for our grandson’s graduation and spend Christmas here with my daughter and her family! What a change! Palm trees instead of pine trees, temperatures in the 70s instead of the crisp 9 degrees we left a few days ago. I drank my coffee on their deck as the bright sun threatened to give me a bit of a suntan. Oh, how I enjoyed myself as we took a long walk. Seeing a beautiful view of the ocean brought feelings of the power and presence of its creator. It made me praise God for his beautiful creation and remember His power afresh. But my daughter asked me a question that I have been pondering. She wondered if it seemed like Christmas since I was California rather than Illinois. A beautiful Christmas tree stands in their living room, lovely garland drapes their mantle, and Christmas dinner is ready to prepare in their frig. Just like at home, sometimes Christmas seemed far off. But then again, it does every year until I settled down and got the real meaning of Christmas into this harried heart. As I turn to Luke 2 to again soak up the Christmas story, I find that I see no pine trees or snow or even palm trees draped in lights in this reading. I see no Christmas trees with gleaming ornaments or brightly wrapped gifts under the branches. Even though I love these things, I see only a babe wrapped in cloth lying in a feed trough. I rejoice with the shepherds as the glory of the Lord shone around them. Even as they were scared to death, the angel said, don’t be afraid because I bring you good news. My mind cannot imagine this. The angels were singing and praising God, saying, Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace to those whom his favor rest! Shortly we will go home to frigid Illinois, take down our Christmas decorations, and put them in boxes until next year, but I will keep Luke 2 always in my heart! Silent night Holy night Christ, the Savior is born! Christ, the Savior is born! Yes, Kelly, it is Christmas here! Sent from Mail for Windows 10

One Vote

One Vote How much is one vote worth? One vote! My vote! In my years of voting, I have felt this my only source of action to voice my opinion. My one chance to change what I might see as wrong or, at the least, not in the best interest of our precious democracy. We are told to change things at the ballot box. My Dad fought for that right for me. During World War 2, he spent twenty-six months in a POW camp, where this strong man of large frame was reduced to 135 pounds. He didn’t talk of his experiences, but neither did he complain or regret giving his all for his country. While being a captive, his mother and father both died, and the family farm was lost. Two of his brothers were committed to mental hospitals for what they called then “Shell Shock.” My brother would serve in Viet Nam, along with many in my family. My dear husband would board a plane headed for Viet Nam with a line of MPs in place to keep any from fleeing, but this man would not even think of such a thing because he was willing to die for the freedom he believed in and for my ONE VOTE! I prayed today for God’s favor again on this country and offered a much-used prayer, GOD BLESS AMERICA! Honor our Veterans this day!

It’s Christmas At My House

It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas at my house anyway! It started in October because of an upcoming surgery that would render me non-weight bearing for six weeks. This would make it very difficult, if not impossible, to put up my vast collection of Christmas decorations. During these weeks of decorating, I have been reading Christmas devotions, I blare my Christmas carols from my Bose speaker, and indeed I adore the One who brings this celebration. As I turned on my trees in the early morning, I thought of something that lifted my soul’s heaviness in this disturbing time. Though the election brings debate, it’s Christmas at my house. I can still proclaim Joy To The World, and the one I celebrate fills me while the darkness still lingers outside. When a pandemic threatens to bring our country to a halt again, the lights on my trees remind me of the Light of the World that bids me, “O Come All Ye Faithful”! It’s Christmas at my house. Bethlehem’s manger sits in its traditional abode upon our desk, clear lights illuminating each character of that blessed group. Mary sits beside the baby Jesus gazing at his beautiful face and ponders all these things while shepherds recall the words of the angel of the LORD “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill toward men.” It’s Christmas at my house! Away In The Manger sums up my prayers in tumultuous days, “Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask you to stay.” It’s Christmas at my house! Come Let Us Adore Him! ““Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭2:14‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Don't Spill The Beans

Don’t Spill The Beans! When my granddaughters, Jenna and Evie, were just preschoolers, they liked to play a game called, “Don’t Spill The Beans.” This little game has been around a long time; in fact, the game’s 1960s version used real kidney beans. It has been a favorite for many years. There is a tipping bowl that players place beans into until the bowl tips over and spills out the beans. The unlucky one who puts that last bean in receives all the beans into his pile. The object of the game is to get rid of all your beans. I thought of this game when I read a verse in The Book of Revelation that I had not read before. This verse says that our prayers are collected in a Gold Bowl. Can you even fathom that? Our prayers are so important that they are collected and wait in a Gold Bowl as incense or a fragrant smell to the Father. And Elders fell before the Lamb. Each one had a harp, and they held gold bowls filled with incense, which are the prayers of God’s people. Revelation 5:8 NLT Our prayers are as fragrant to the Father as incense. I think of the prayers offered at this confusing time in history. Prayers for healing both physically and culturally. Prayers for our leaders, with all the issues that surround them. Prayers for our economy and people hurting financially. We pray for our churches that they may be awakened from sleep and go forth with the Gospel. Why would these desperate prayers of a fallen world fill a special Golden Bowl? Because of God’s everlasting love for His people, the bowl when full tips and the answers fall to earth in immeasurable blessings. Unlike the whimsical game when the bowl is tipped, we are not the losers but winners, the victors, and conquerors that stand as warriors for our Lord.