Do you see what I see?

Today, they are called “Retro” trees, but in the 60s and early 70s, silver aluminum Christmas trees were quite the rave.  Our family had one that was full and bushy, adorned with dark pink shiny glass ornaments.  My grandparents’ aluminum tree was more slender, but filled with royal blue satin ornaments easily seen from outside passersby through the large livingroom picture window.

Many years ago, when our kids were small, times had gotten tough for several months. The 80s “oil boom” had gone “bust” while businesses and families struggled to make ends meet, including us.  Christmas time was soon approaching, and my stomach began to ache knowing that the Christmas tree would not have as much under it that year. 

Then it hit me….the Christmas tree!  We had always purchased live trees in the past and just did not feel like we could afford one that year. My husband remembered putting away boxes of decorations for his grandmother a few years before, including a box containing their old aluminum tree.  I was excited at the thought of a nostalgic Christmas tree and relieved at not having to purchase one.

The moment arrived as my husband placed the old box in the center of the room, and the kids immediately began to pull the branches out of the crumbling paper sheaths. Enthusiasm soon turned to disappointment as we slowly began to erect what we later called “Charlie Brown’s Aluminum Tree.” The branches looked more like foil rods with a shiny wild frazzle clinging desperately to the ends. We were hoping against hope the ornaments would miraculously fill in the huge gaps. 

As we stood gazing at our Charlie Brown tree, tilting our heads first one way, and then another. And though I tried to hide it, gloom began to overtake me. Then, the words of my four-year-old son shook me from my trance, “If you do this, it looks really bushy!”

I turned to find him standing with his head tilting backward and his eyes squinting nearly shut.  So, I tried it.  He was right!  With the help of the overhead track lighting filtering through the eyelashes, the tree appeared to be gloriously full.  It all depended on how you looked at it!

Oh to have the faith of a child who still lacks the jading of mankind regardng material goods.  So simple. So profound. 

I wish I could say it turned out to be the best Christmas ever that year and that Chuck landed a job that exceeded his previous salary, but I cannot. Looking back however, I can say that it is the Christmas I think of most often.  Not because of the emotional pain or the lack of gifts under the tree, but because of the greater lesson that day from the perspective of a child. 

“Why do You hide Yourself in times of trouble?”(Psalm 10:1, NIV)  I am sure I have posed this question myself a time or two over the years. In fact, after going through trials, we discover that God never hides, but was there all along. He Himself has said, “I will never leave you, nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5, ESV).  

When allowed to go through the dark places, we begin to see light we did not know existed.

Painful times can have a particular objective for us in that they bring us to the end of ourselves enabling us to discover the treasure hidden in the darkness. It is there we find we have the ability to see through spiritual eyes to behold what we had missed all along. 

Father, I thank you for the gift of Your Son, that whosoever believes in Him would not perish but have eternal life in Christ Jesus.  Lord, when times are tough and we feel frazzled, help us to direct our thoughts and prayers toward You, rather than trying to fill in the huge gaps in our soul with the shiny trinkets that offer only temporary fulfillment. You have promised to supply all our needs according to Your riches in glory. And thank you Lord, for those moments in our lives that reveal a greater message, and for using the words of a small child to snap me out of my self-centered gloom. In Jesus name, Amen.

Have you ever experienced those moments when light shined through your darkness in a way you'll nver forget?  Share it below in the comment section. I'd love to hear it.

Wings of Change

 (This began as a letter for our daughter on her high school graduation in 2006)

 ~~♥~~

To our daughter upon her high school graduation:

          Oh my, how history repeats itself!  

          Do you remember “Delvin”, your second grade project of nurturing a caterpillar?

          We called it the Butterfly Wannabe. 

          You watched carefully everyday for small changes taking place in God’s creation that was now under your care. You grew impatient, as the caterpillar seemed oblivious to the orders nature had given him. Eventually, a cocoon formed and at times you even wondered if it had died, as the cocoon appeared motionless and unresponsive.

          Then, after what seemed an eternity, but was only a couple weeks, you awoke one morning to see that while you were sleeping, a beautiful monarch butterfly had finally emerged. 

We shared in your excitement of this “nativity in a jar” and we rejoiced like proud parents, calling family and friends who were aware of your project.  However, the reality now struck. You knew what it was time to do. 

           The final stage of the assignment was to tag and release him from the school parking lot. As you removed the lid from the jar, Delvin seemed to hesitate, as if he was comfortable where he was.  Nevertheless, as the fresh air made its way into his snug surroundings, his wings began to flutter wildly. It just seemed he needed a little help to launch. 

          Tears fell from your eyes as you reached in and lifted him from the jar, releasing him into the wide open space.  But the tears turned to laughter and cheers when you observed the power and strength in his wings as the breeze lifted him higher and higher, until he flew out of sight. 

          We now come to the moment I have dreaded since the day they laid your warm body, wrapped as tightly as a cocoon, in my arms. My dear child, I’m sure what seemed an eternity to you, feels like only a few short weeks for me.  But, as the winds of change stir your soul, may they lift you ever higher into the wide open space of your future.            

          

          The memories of your childhood will always warm your heart, but it will be your vision and dreams that will propel you forward. Let your mind be stayed on Christ, your Way, your Truth, and your Life, and your paths will be straight.  Moreover, know we are proud of the beautiful young woman who emerged before our very eyes.   

     

          May God bless and keep you and may His grace shine upon you as we release you into the plans He has for you, now and forever. 

Love, Mom & Dad

          Dear Lord, How amazing it is to compare our life to the caterpillar that is surrounded by the cocoon and struggles until it emerges a beautiful butterfly. I pray that as we all struggle through life's challenges, that we learn to lean on You and allow the cocoon of Your love to surround us and that the circumstances and trials help mold each of us into the beautiful creature You want us to become. Thank You for all You do. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Small Beginnings

Did you ever notice God loves to start from scratch? 

Like so many Christian authors never did I intend to write and I certainly never intended to write a book. Therefore, when people ask, “how did you ever start to write a book”, I tell them, “With a letter to my Dad”. It turned out to be the launch pad for my book. 

But I suppose I could trace back even a little further when my high school English teacher ignited that creative gift within me of which I was unaware of its use or purpose. I learned through a creative writing class several ways to express myself through different styles of writing. I thoroughly enjoyed the class, but sadly, did not recognize its significance and failed to follow through upon graduation. I was also spiritually blind at the time. 

However, God opened my eyes and heart in 1991 and for five years, I was completely ‘lost in love’ with my Savior and my God. He created a deep passion within me and a ravenous hunger and thirst for His Word I literally wore the cover off my leather bible. He was gradually restoring a very dry and thirsty soul. Then, in 1993, I wrote a personal letter to my dad on Father’s Day as a special gift using a story I remembered from childhood depicting my tender relationship with him. I paralleled the story to the precious relationship I had with my heavenly Father. I wrote another story for my mother on Mother’s Day a year later. For whatever reason, I then changed course and picked up portrait art for several years. 

But, in 2007, I sensed God urging me to put down my pastels and begin writing again. I truly felt that if I did not write, I would literally explode. Through the leading of the Holy Spirit, the stories began to pour out of me onto my computer keyboard. Sensing also that God did not intend for me to write for an audience of only One, I approached our local newspaper about publishing a weekly Christian column. Readily accepted, it ran for 3 years. A year and a half into publishing the columns, my readers encouraged me to put them into a book. Unfamiliar to publishing, I typed “Christian publisher” into the search bar of my browser, found Tate Publishing in my home state, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

I consider writing as a tool for ministry. I never felt the call to travel abroad to foreign countries to preach the gospel in places without running water or flushing toilets. But just look around. People are walking in darkness all around us; many of them are right here in our communities. Sometimes, even in our churches.

If you are not only a believer, but a true FOLLOWER OF CHRIST, you have a mission to tell others not just how He saved you, but how He leads you every single day. With boldness and passion, step out and share Christ. 

Our world testifies to the power and glory of God. Our lives should testify to the world of the glory and power of God. Find your way to do that, whether in writing, painting, singing, speaking, teaching, giving, feeding, reaching—whatever it is, do it! 

Start today with whatever tools you have. Ask the Lord to lead you, opening doors for you to hone and then utilize your gifts, to the glory and praise of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.

Moments Like These

Photo credit- sandralanegalloway.blogspot.com

Yesterday, I spent the most wonderful day with my mother. We do this about every three weeks. It has become our official Mother/Daughter routine with lunch, “mani-pedi”, errands, ‘Hardback’ coffee, and then free time shopping and browsing—and pretty much in that order. 

Every time is the same—but different. . .

Our Beautiful Heritage

"It's the sleep before midnight that counts." - Grandma Fredrick (1902-1991)

“The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me.”

 (Psalm 16:6)

One of the things I cherished as a child was going to my grandma and grandpa’s house. They lived in a larger town, at least compared to our little farm community. Staying with them, I would lie in bed at night and listen to the sounds of cars driving through their neighborhood, the occasional horn honk, a distant siren, and of course the neighborhood dogs. 

On the farm at night, you heard . . . well . . . nothing. On a very quiet night, you could faintly hear the train from a nearby town and even the neighbor’s dog a mile away. 

At Grandma’s, we could chase after the ice cream truck, pick up pecans in the backyard (which we finally realized one day was actually work), use our shoe skates on a smooth concrete driveway instead of crusty dirt and gravel, and as we grew, we could ride our bikes to the public pool. Going to Grandma’s was an adventure.