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An October Evening’s View

Driving home that warm October evening some years ago, I stopped by the nearby lakeshore to savor it’s beauty before the cold weather set in. I live in Minnesota where warm days are especially appreciated. During this particular October, several days of 80 degree temperatures produced what felt like an extended summer. But change was coming; the cold and snow would soon be here. So while I could, I would wade into the lake one more time before winter.

I drove my car up close to the shore and got out. At the nearest neighbor’s, the house was dark and quiet. I was glad to be alone and walked knee-deep out into the lake. The water was chilly, but it felt good on my tired feet. I relaxed and took in the view around me.

The sun had set and the last glow of light illuminated the west and spread pale color over the still, glassy lake. The trees on the far bank were silhouetted on the water, and above shown the most beautiful crescent moon. As I took this all in, it seemed surreal; things just don’t naturally line up this well, with that crescent moon suspended in exactly the right spot in this scene.

A quiet hush blanketed the atmosphere. Occasionally a fish would jump and make a slapping sound as it plunged again, and across the lake, a bird called. A great blue heron soared silently just over the surface of the water and landed a short distance away.

I breathed deep. With great appreciation and gratitude for all this beauty that my Father God had designed, I whispered, “Lord, I just love this!” And then I heard, or maybe felt Him say, “Let me show you what I see…” I saw the view pulled back just enough so that now I was in the picture; in the center of the picture, to be exact. And I heard my Father God say, “This is what I love!”

And then I had a moment, right then and there, standing knee-deep in a lake at twilight. I felt the gaze of Almighty God enveloping me with His love, making me feel like I was the center of the universe to Him, the apple of His eye. It was love I couldn’t comprehend, but more real than anything I had ever experienced. The realization came that God wants to make known this deep, powerful, and awe-filling love to every individual person. The question is, can we receive His love?

Over thirty years previous to this evening by the lakeshore, I’d had a different encounter. I was a teenager who professed Jesus as my Savior, and I was serving God in my own capacities in what I knew to do. Unexpectedly, I had a vision of Jesus. He was right there, in the car with me! In His eyes, I saw pure, liquid love; oceans of love. In an instant, I knew He saw me completely; He knew me completely; and yet He loved me completely! But my soul was so full of shame…I couldn’t hold His gaze, and I looked away. When I looked back, the vision was gone. For years afterward, I wondered how I might have been changed, if I could have only been able to continue gazing into those eyes of love.

Over the years, as I read and studied the Bible, God’s Word, I began to understand more of God’s wonderful plans for me, and of all He did to make it possible for me to actually know Him. I saw the enormous price that was paid for my life to be redeemed; that Jesus gave His own life to set me free from sin. These revelations were setting me free from old ways of thinking and bringing healing to many aspects of my life.

I loved the Lord, I was ambitious, and so I wanted to serve Him. I served in diverse capacities, in whatever ways I could, and then began developing talents to serve along certain lines. I served and served; at some point I became more of a human do-ing than a human being. But I was striving for people’s acceptance rather than drawing closer to God in a relationship that pleased Him the most. As can be expected, eventually I wound up hurt and disappointed not only with people and the church, but even more so, I disappointed myself. I was a failure in the things I held most dear.

It’s a fearful thing when a person comes to the end of all their own efforts, self-righteousness and personal dignity. But when I fell before the Lord, I fell into His arms of love. I found that He had never left me, but was always right there, as close as my breath. What a relief to let go of my own striving, and begin to rediscover myself in Him!

Can you see yourself from God’s point of view? Can your heart receive His transforming power? If not, what’s holding you back? After all is said and done, there’s nothing comparable to living life enveloped in His love, walking daily in the awareness of His presence.

Every day, my heart is overflowing with thankfulness towards God; He has blessed me with all good things. My family is blessed, my home is blessed, my relationships are blessed, my church is blessed! New discoveries of His goodness are found continually.

Friend, you can trust God; you can trust Jesus. Open your heart to receive!

If you’ve been encouraged by this post, please share it!And if you’d like to comment, please do so below.

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A Time to Heal

Wildflower
Wildflower

Shuffling through Mother’s and Father’s Day cards at the Hallmark store, looking for any that might mirror my thoughts and feelings, I was overcome with thankfulness to God at the tremendous change I have experienced. Decades of strained relationships with my parents and a sense of loss have been replaced by a knowing, steadfast love. Here is my story, written in the hope that it might help others find their way to healing.

I have good parents; they’re wonderful people, actually. They’re the hard-working, salt-of-the-earth kind of people that seem to serve as a link between the present and bygone eras. These days, we experience a free-flowing, loving relationship. We enjoy each other’s company. Instead of tension in trying to make conversation, we can barely break away from a visit because we have so much to talk about. But it wasn’t always like this. In fact, not so long ago, it was quite different.

It seems strange to me now how I could go so many years without comprehending key elements of my life. But then again, it’s more understandable in light of the fact that I married young and within a short time, my husband and I had a large family which occupied practically all my thoughts and time. But there were wounds in my soul, which I’ve come to see, affected all my relationships.

As far back as I can remember, I had a sense of being alone. When I was barely three years old, I told my Grandpa “A” that my mom and dad had each other, and my two brothers had each other, but I had no one. My grandpa thought it significant enough to tell this to my dad, and more than fifty years later, my dad still remembers this.

I felt what I called a “disconnect” with my mother. I was aware of vague facts about my early childhood, but didn’t give it much thought until a relative stated recently that my grandparents, for the most part, had raised me. Intrigued, I began piecing together time lines and asking my parents about those early years.

I was the third child of my parents, and their first girl. Before I was a year and a half old, some of my family were in a car accident. This was before the days of child car seats, and I was standing in the front seat. Mom saw that a crash was about to occur and had the presence of mind and quick reaction to grab me and throw me under the dash. Mom suffered a broken leg and a severely injured elbow, but the rest of us were unharmed. I was sent to live with my mom’s parents until mom was back on her feet again.

My family lived only a few miles from both sets of my grandparents. Though they were all around seventy years of age at this time, the grandparents were a great help in taking care of not only me, but also my two brothers. My mom’s leg didn’t heal properly and as a result, she did not walk for a full year. During this time my brothers lived at home but I continued to live with one set of grandparents and then the other.

My dad was a busy young farmer, with many responsibilities on his shoulders. He would bring my two brothers with him and come to visit me on Sunday afternoons. One of my earliest memories is seeing my tall, slim daddy coming across the lawn with the boys in tow. My Grandmother “G” said that if I happened to be eating when dad would arrive, I would sling my plate to the floor in an effort to get out of the high chair and get to him as soon as possible. I was daddy’s girl!

In the meantime, during the year mom couldn’t walk, she did all she could to help at home. She had a rolling chair to help her scoot around her kitchen so she could still get a meal on the table for dad and the boys and the extra farm help my dad employed. Soon after she could walk again, she discovered the family was about to grow larger. This time she was expecting twins!

My grandparents continued to take care of me often, before and after the twin girls were born. Then, when I was five years old, my Grandpa “G” died. Later that year, my youngest sister was born. And before I turned six, Grandpa “A”, who was the one I had grown closest to, also died.

I was daddy’s girl, but I didn’t get to spend much time with him. He always had many things to attend to and worked so hard. My mother’s hands were full with all the work of taking care of a large family; it seemed she was always busy. After losing both of my grandfathers, a part of my heart locked up.

For many years, I grieved for the kind of relationships I thought should have been, but never transpired. When I finally got a more accurate picture of what had happened during my early years and of the separation from my mother, and understood where the feeling of “disconnect” came from concerning her. Comprehending this truth, mixed with compassion, has been a great help to reconnect with my mom in recent years. I see beyond any doubt that my parents did the best they knew to do.

The relationship with my dad was more complex. Over the years, I often would work in a direction that I thought would please my dad, or make him proud. But the result was unsatisfying. It felt as if I was shooting towards a disappearing target; I never hit the mark.

In everyone’s heart and soul, there is a void that only God can fill although we may try to fill it in other ways. Various things color our perception of what the Father God is like: relationships with our parents, (or lack thereof), religious teachings, and our culture, to name a few. I thank God I had the opportunity to hear the gospel as a young person and received Jesus as my Savior. But since I had limited understanding of God’s abundant love towards me, for years I kept a fearful distance from Him. When I finally cried out to God to know Him more personally, He began to teach me astounding things. I began to see things in the Bible in a new light that showed me God’s true nature. Sometimes as I would read, memories of a painful incident or harsh words would come to mind. God the Father, through His Holy Spirit, would show me His thoughts, His love and His words for me through the exact time I was hurt, bringing healing to those memories. He overwhelmed me with His goodness!

As time went on, I continued to enjoy a wonderful, deepening relationship with my Father God. However, my relationship with my dad still troubled me. I was grateful for his help through the years, and his care for all of his family, but why was it so hard to relate to each other? I wondered what it really meant to honor your father and mother. As I talked to God about this, an idea came to me. I would go to my dad and spend time with him, and become interested in whatever he was interested in. I didn’t need to talk about my family or myself unless he asked. I would get to know my dad as if I was meeting a new friend, with no prejudices carrying over from the past.

I always knew that successful farmers need to be good business people. I grew up surrounded by farm business talk, and it nearly bored me to death. I learned early on to tune out those conversations. But now I went to my dad with the intent to listen and learn, and learn I did.

Dad likes to reminisce. I heard stories of his childhood and his early days in farming. I learned of the great financial pressure he was under when I was a kid, and of how a devastating cattle disease threatened to wipe him out of business. At the time, Dad had around 600 head of cattle and they were falling sick all around him. My dad was practically sick from worry. The local veterinarian was a Christian who did something Dad had never seen before; he’d pray for an animal before treating it. The vet also talked of how worry is not from God, and of how we can believe God to answer our prayers. On this particular day, the vet did something else that surprised Dad; instead of praying for the cattle, the vet prayed for Dad! The result was that the cattle recovered and disaster was averted. It was beautiful to hear my dad giving all the glory to God for that miracle, and for his success all through the years.

Something completely unexpected happened as I listened and talked with Dad… I found that we could relate on business! I was involved in business too, and it became our common ground. Soon, we didn’t just talk farm business, we talked about all kinds of things. And woven through our conversations was the grace of God, and sometimes we’d cry together as God touched our hearts. One day as Mom, Dad and I sat at their kitchen table, we joined hands and praised and worshiped God together. It felt as if we had come full circle; our relationships were complete.

As I write, I am well aware that there are those reading who need healing. In some cases, a parent with whom you’ve had a painful relationship is no longer living. Some of you have suffered extreme abuse or abandonment. One thing I’ve learned is that all healing begins with forgiveness. Forgiveness frees you, and allows the healing to begin. It takes courage to open up your heart where raw wounds remain. But the result may be the most liberating experience of your life. May you have hope to believe this is ‘A Time to Heal’.

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The River

little river
The little river

A little river runs through this land, and for as long as I can remember, I have felt the lure of it. It’s a small river, unpretentious, except during a spring melt-off of heavy snowfall or during a downpour of rain. At those times, the river can quickly become a thundering torrent. But most of the time, it quietly flows by, unnoticed by most.

As a child on frequent visits to my grandparent’s house, a walk to the river was always in my plans. Because the riverbed area flooded periodically, it wasn’t farmed. Unlike the cultivated fields and mowed lawns I was used to, this area had a wild feeling about it, which I loved. To me, this spelled adventure.
The river fascinated me. There was always new things to see if I could just be patient and wait. Birds and wildlife of many kinds lived in or nearby the river and I would lose track of time as I observed it all. Some days I’d try fishing. Once I had something on my line that was pulling hard and slow. When I finally got it close enough to see what it was, I found a huge, prehistoric-looking snapping turtle. The snapper broke the line and swam away with my bobber. For days afterward, I would see the bobber slowly rise and then descend in different parts of the river. I thought of how stunning it would be to see below the surface of the water and know all that it contained.
snapping turtle
My dog, making sure this little snapping turtle lives up to it’s name. (It does)

Sometimes I would talk to God when I was by the river. As I grew older, there were times when I planned to pray about a certain problem when I would go there, but a funny thing would happen. When I got to the river, the awe and wonder of even the smallest detail of God’s creation would catch my eye, and my attention would be taken off my problem. I would leave the river refreshed, either having forgotten the problem, realizing it wasn’t very important, or figuring out a way through it.

 

There are so many things I love about the river, but my favorite is it’s sound; that happy, splashy, bubbling sound made by the quiet rush of water flowing over rocks. It’s the song of the river.
One evening a few years ago, I was standing outside, taking in the beauty of the early spring on the river. This is a flyway for migratory birds, and a multitude of many varieties had stopped to rest. I listened as they called to each other in the cool night air. As the last glow of the sunset waned, a crescent moon lit the sky and the earliest stars made their appearance. And underneath and woven all through this loveliness was that well-loved sound; the song of the river. As I listened to it, joy welled up within me, and I couldn’t help asking out loud, “Lord, why do I love that sound so much?” These words immediately came to my mind; “Because it’s the background music of your life.” The concept of my life having background music took me by surprise, but as I thought on this statement, I understood the truth of it. And I saw again, as I’ve seen so often, the overwhelming goodness of God as He looks after and is involved in even the most intricate details of our lives.

IMG_20130422_201642_132
Early spring on the river

Lately, I have wanted to understand better what Jesus meant when he said in John 7:37-38, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” Verse 39 tells us, “Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive.”

When Jesus taught, he used examples of things that people were familiar with. To fishermen, He used fishing analogies. For those who planted crops, we find teachings on sowing and reaping. For those who tended herds, Jesus showed himself to be the good shepherd. As I’ve considered the rivers of living water, aspects of what I know about the little river I’m fond of, and rivers in general, come to mind.
First of all, I see that rivers appear all through the Bible. From the river that went out of Eden to water the garden and became four riverheads, all the way to the last chapter of Revelation where the river of life proceeds from the throne of God, rivers play an important role in God’s dealings with mankind.
Rivers create natural boundaries between one land and another. Often the means of exploring new territories is by way of the rivers. In this land that is now the United States of America, centuries ago, explorers traveled the rivers to uncharted areas. Outposts were established along the way so that supplies could be transported. The rivers were the means of access to the new frontier. Today, rivers continue to aid in the shipping of goods and resources. They also provide the life-giving water to irrigate dry lands, in some cases causing the desert to bloom. Nutrients and sediments are carried downstream, and where these are deposited, the land is made fertile.
Rivers are unstoppable. Man has tried to control or slow them down, but at some point, the river will always find a way to break through.
As I think of the attributes of rivers in the natural world, I begin to imagine what God wants to accomplish by rivers of living water flowing from our hearts. By many different means and ways, God wants us to bring His much needed help to a desperate world.
The little river that flows here has been a ‘constant’ in my life. It’s always been there, for generations unknown. In ways it’s unchanging; it’s also always new; it’s never the same water flowing under the bridge. It’s fed by unseen springs, continually pouring forth fresh water. Even in the coldest depths of winter when ice covers the surface, if you listen closely, you can hear the quiet, bubbly rush of the song of the river, and you can be assured that the river flows on. Acts 2:17 & 21 reads, “In the last days… God declares, I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams; … and it shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” Never before have we needed the rivers of living waters flowing forth from each one of us as we do today. Let us seek to be the channels of blessing that God designed us to be. Let’s let the river flow!