Making The Connection

Nothing is worse than missing a connection that you really wanted to make. Connections in the airport. Connecting with your ride. The connection you need to get from one place to another. But for me the biggest disappointment is picking up my phone and seeing that I missed connecting with one of my kids or grandkids--especially the ones who live on the other side of the world since we have a narrower window to connect in with the time difference.

Then there is the problem with a poor connection. It happened not too long ago on a video chat. The little warning bar kept telling us we had a poor connection. We solved it by going to another app.

Communicating with loved ones is what keeps us connected to one another. Keeps us caring for each other. Keeps us in a relationship. In the "old days" we dialed a phone. Today we touch the numbers on a screen. But it does take power to keep those lines open and connecting.

As I started to try and end a conversation with a granddaughter the other day, I said, "I have to go soon. My battery is getting really low."

Her answer, "Plug it in."

I smiled. A simple answer but one we don't always think about. We think we have power but we don't. Not really. There is a power source though that is greater than any other. The trouble is we don't always think to plug into it. We don't "dial" it up. Bottom line: we forget to connect to the One Source that can provide the power to get us through the tough times, to rejoice with us in the good times, to say "job well done", to comfort, to bring peace. How is your connection? Have you dialed up your Heavenly Father lately? He's always there to receive you. And his power is limitless.

In The Hollow Of His Hand

“Keep me safe, O God, for in you I take refuge.” Psalm 16:1 (NIV)

             The words of a song, “Hold me fast, let me stand, In the hollow of thy hand. Keep me safe, ‘Til the storm passes by,” took on a deeper meaning as I remembered a sailing adventure.

            Our family was sailing from Cleveland to Port Huron, Michigan. As we started across Lake St. Clair, the skies were cloudy. An hour later, they were ominous, threatening a storm. There was no where to run for shelter. A sailboat does not get anywhere in a hurry and, in the shallow waters of St. Clair, we could not risk straying from the shipping channel.

            “If worse comes to worse,” said Bob, “we’ll anchor and ride it out.” We donned rain gear. Neither of us mentioned our greatest fear, the 45 foot “lightning rod” holding up the sail.

            Skies darkened. Thunder surrounded us. Suddenly the wind died. We lowered the sails as rain began to pour straight down. We motored, expecting the wind and waves to get stronger. Visibility was cut down to a mile and we had difficulty seeing the next channel marker. Silently, we prayed.

            The wind never grew stronger. The seas remained tranquil. In the midst of the storm, we continued to move on, in a peace and calm that only God could have provided. We were truly in the hollow of His hand.

            In all the storms of life, take refuge in Him and he will bring peace.

Mrs. Noah's Cruise - Part III

For the Noahs, this was a real Do-It-Yourself cruise. How many of you have ever gone camping with the family or taken one of those vacations where you rent a condo for the week? If you are like most wives and mothers, you packed, you cooked, you picked up after everyone, and you may have even had to clean and do the laundry. Can we imagine it was any different for Mrs. Noah?

First there was all the rain. That at least floated the boat but there wasn’t much opportunity for lounging in the sun on the deck. And incidentally, all those passengers needed looking after. What do you do with a seasick elephant?—give him lots of room. And what about those rabbits that seemed to be mathematically precocious? Where was she going to put them all?

Yes, it was a real adventure and I’m sure Mrs. Noah was happy to see the top of Mt. Ararat appear in the distance as the sun broke through once again. Incidentally, the forty night cruise turned into 150 days before they set foot on dry land. That’s an around the world cruise today!

I’ll bet she was glad to see the cruise end but at the same time, what an amazing journey—an adventure unlike any other. Something to tell her grandchildren about for years to come—As a matter of fact the story is still being told. It was truly an adventure of faith.

If you were to ask Mrs. Noah, she’d tell you:

Adventures of a spiritual nature often come in unusual and unique ways.

Remember, as you sail on in your spiritual adventure, to ask Jesus to calm the storms.

Know that God is there wherever your journey may take you. 

Blessed travels!

Mrs. Noah's Cruise Part I
Mrs. Noah's Cruise Part II

Valentine's Day is for Sweet Hearts

Valentine's Day is primarily considered as the day for sweethearts to express their love for each other. Today I would challenge you to look at it in another way. How about making the day a time for sweet hearts? I know. It's a play on words but stay with me.

A sweet heart doesn't necessarily need a "significant other" as a special love interest is called in today's terms. A sweet heart reaches out to others rather than looking for what will be received from others. Look around you today and see where a sweet heart might brighten another's day. Is there a shut-in nearby? A family member or friend who's lost a spouse? A neighbor who could use a helping hand or just a reminder that they are cared for?

The receiving is in the giving. Try a random act of kindness or two or more. A sweet heart will enrich your life as well as the lives of others.

There was a reason Jesus said, "Do to others as you would like them to do to you." The thought is not only golden, it's sweet!

His Majesty

My friends and coauthors of several books, the Word Quilters, are a patient group. Since we are scattered all over the country, we communicate often through emails. Sometimes the question is asked of me, “Where are you now?” Since our children are all grown, my husband retired, we travel even more than we did before. Our feet have touched on all seven continents and completely circumnavigated the globe. It is quite a masterpiece our God has created and we have enjoyed every little corner we have found to explore.

More than that, God has opened my eyes to His majesty. High on a mountainside in Alaska, I was reminded of the strength and peace He brings. On a dive trip to Papua New Guinea, I observed a little fish dart in and out of a strong current to seek shelter in a rock just as I seek shelter in my Rock. Amid the red desert sands of Australia, we paused to learn how the Desert Oak sends a tap root into the earth to seek life giving water. How like us who need to tap into the Living Water.

The most touching experience we had however was on our trip to China. It was one I didn’t want to take but bent to my husband’s desire for his “trip of a lifetime.” We spent eight days on a land tour that took us from Beijing to Xian and the Yangtze River. I prayed that God would show me each day that He was at work in China; that His presence was there and would be felt. That prayer was answered each day in many ways but most dramatically in the middle of a river tour.

 On board a catamaran, we explored a tributary of the Yangtze River in the beautiful Three Gorges area. There were about one hundred twenty-five English speaking tourists on the boat and after our guide was finished telling us about the culture and traditions of the area, it was suggested that we sing a favorite song. In the middle of a river, in the middle of China, over one hundred voices rang out in the most beautiful rendition of Amazing Grace I have ever heard.

Majesty. His majesty is felt everywhere people are willing to let Him into their hearts

The Christmas Carol Connection

Two things I could not remember my dad ever doing when I was growing up: dancing or singing. At my wedding reception when the DJ said it was time for the father of the bride to dance with the bride he connected with me in the correct dance position and then said, "What do I do?"

"Just move your feet a little," I recall answering. The photographer got the picture and relieved, my dad gave up the pretense of dancing with me. I love the picture though. He looks so proud of himself actually "dancing."

Many years later, the first Christmas after my mother was gone, we planned our usual Christmas Eve get together at my brother's home. They were always patiently waiting on us each year because it was important to us that we go to the Christmas Eve service at our church. This year as always I extended the invitation to my family and surprisingly my father said he'd come.

I don't recall Dad ever going to a church service other than a funeral or a wedding. He grew up Catholic but had been disillusioned by the church years ago. He was always a very private man and except for only a small hint one time, he never expressed openly any kind of belief in God.

Our service started that Christmas evening with a series of familiar Christmas hymns. I stood next to Dad hoping he would feel comfortable, hoping he would find some comfort in the Christmas service. Mom had been Mrs. Christmas all our lives, planning, cooking, shopping and making Christmas traditions that now seemed threatened by her absence.

Suddenly I realized that the voice I was hearing strong and clear was coming from my Dad! I looked at him. My face must have registered my surprise. He looked down at me and smiled. "What? I know these songs." I smiled back at him and turned away quickly lest he see the tears that formed. My dad knew the Christmas carols!

I had no idea where he would have learned them. But within those hymns, those traditional Christmas carols, I knew that there was the message of hope, of peace, of the precious gift of Jesus. Perhaps he had known the message. Perhaps he had connected with his Savior after all.

We don't hear those carols as often as I'd like any more but all those years I sang them, they have left that same message in my heart. A connection to the heart of the Christmas message.

Sunday Morning Worship - Imitating Jesus

As part of our recent visit to Rio, we took a trip to the top of the mountain that has the iconic statue of Jesus, arms outstretched, overlooking the city below. Several messages in the pose came to mind mostly of Jesus saying “come unto me.” It was said more often than not though that the pose chosen by the artist was done more as a welcome to all to the city of Rio. It was also joked that the statue was in that position ready to clap its hand when Rio stops sinning.

I don’t like crowds and this place was definitely crowded. It was difficult in the small space that is there at the foot of the statue to take pictures. So many people struggle to find enough space to stand in front of the statue and spread their arms in the same pose as Jesus. Oh, if only we would always strive to imitate Jesus, not just in this iconic pose, but in the ways he asked of us. 

What If Christmas Meant A Little Bit More

For some reason the commercialism of Christmas has gotten to me this year. Was it because it started at Halloween? Or was it the debate over when Black Friday should start--Thanksgiving Day, the week of, or maybe just Friday? Of course then Black Friday was followed by Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday. News programs fretted over the economy. Would the retail stores see a significant growth in sales? What if they didn't? Did it signal an economic crisis?

Then of course as the Thanksgiving turkey was tucked into leftover containers TV, newspapers, magazines and every online source of information began informing the public of the best way to shop, to entertain, to decorate, and on and on. It was tiring to think of all that I wasn't doing or doing right.

And then, tuned into Sirius XM radio to one of the holiday music channels, I heard this quote from Dr. Zeus' The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It was after the Grinch had done his dirty work and discovered the Whos were celebrating any way.

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?”

This week heralds the celebration of the birth of Christ. He is the major part of Christmas unless you replace him with X. Unfortunately I think too many have replaced him with packages, boxes, and bags. Hmmm. What if Christmas , perhaps, means a little bit more?

"Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord." Luke 2:11

There's A Thorn In My Side

It's Christmas time and I cannot help but remember my mother at this time of year. She was Mrs. Christmas, Mother Christmas, Grandma Christmas. Whatever name you want to apply. She thrived on colored lights, lit candles, wrapping paper and bows, cards, pine trees and trimming, hand knit Christmas stockings, and the list goes on.

Mom passed away thirty years ago but that first Christmas after her funeral in September still pierces my heart. About a month before Christmas, I received a call from a friend of hers who said she didn't know what to do with some gifts my mother had ordered from her. Mom had bought seven light weight jackets, one for each of our kids and Bob and I, and asked her to embroider our names and the name of our sailboat on the jackets. They were all finished and paid for if I wanted to pick them up. I did. And I wrapped them and experienced the most bitter sweet moment of my life when we unwrapped gifts that year.

While time has passed--lots of time, there is still that little pinch each year at this time. I know there are many others who go through the same emotion each year because of losses in their lives. I spoke with a man recently who lost his wife several years ago and couldn't understand why it still hurt so much. For some reason the verse in 2 Corinthians 12 came to mind where Paul talks about having a thorn in his flesh.

Sorrow and grief is kind of like that. It pokes us at times and often when we don't expect it even if it's been many years since our loss. Like a thorn that's been embedded in the flesh, it hurts a lot at first, then lessens but every so often, it pinches us again but as God told Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you."

The memories God has graced me with of my mother make that pinch of grief bearable. So I will think of Mother Christmas and all her quirky ways of showing her love through our holiday season and thank God for her. We've all outgrown our jackets but we'll never outgrow the memories.

Who Do You Trust?

A few weeks ago I had the privilege of sharing the morning message with my church family. Of course with all our traveling, it took on a travel theme of sorts. I showed a few pictures of our trip to Bryce Canyon National Park where I was introduced to Hoodoos. Hoodoos are the stone structures in the canyon that stand stoically while God works his wonder of creation shaping and forming them into amazing structures through the medium of erosion.

Now Hoodoos don't commit consciously to trusting God to form them into new creatures but we do have that opportunity to commit to trusting God to create a new life in us. What keeps us from trusting Him is the question.

When we travel, we often take a plane. Do we know who is flying it? Not usually. Yet we trust that the person at the controls will get us safely to our destination.

Arriving at our destination, we usually need the services of a taxi. Do we know who is driving the taxi? We can see him/her but we really don't know much about that person and in some of the countries we have visited it has been difficult to even communicate with them. Yet again, we trust them to get us safely to our destination.

In both of those cases a lot of prayer often helps--at least to calm the fears we might have but there is one area of trust most people don't even give a second thought to unless of course you are driving on a different side of the road than you normally do. Every time you drive, you trust that the dividing line down the middle of the road will keep the oncoming traffic on the correct side of it. The line in most cases isn't much wider than 6-8 inches or up to 16" or so if there's a double line. Do you trust the double line more?

All of this is to say, we have little trouble trusting the pilot, the taxi driver, or the dividing line in the roadway but when it comes to trusting the living God who walks with us, who loves us, who wants to help us through life's challenges we. . .

What do we do?

Who do you trust?

No Greater Love. . .

While researching for the historical novel I'm writing, I ran across a story of four army chaplains whose lives exemplified their faith. The four, John Washington, a Catholic priest, Clark Poling, a Dutch Reformed pastor, Alexander Goode, a rabbi, and George Fox, a Methodist minister, were being transported along with troops of men on board a cruise ship, the Dorchester, that had been converted to a troop transport. The ship was several days into its Atlantic crossing when it was torpedoed and went down. Survivors reported that the four chaplains had spent the last moments of their lives calming the men as they helped them into lifeboats and even giving some their own life jackets. With no way to save themselves in the end, the four joined arms and went down with the ship.

One of the relatives of the four researched the story to be sure it was true. Survivors he found all corroborated the story and added that the four men had a genuine love for each other even though their faiths were different. Catholic, Jew, Dutch Reformed, Methodist. It didn't matter.They exhibited the kind of love that Jesus truly wanted for all of God's children.

You can read more about the story of the Dorchester and these men of faith at American WWII.com. I found it amazing and reaffirming.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. John 15:13

Flying Nearer My God To Thee

 The plane levels out, gives that little surge that makes your tummy flutter, and a few minutes later, the pilot announces “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our cruising altitude and I am turning off the fasten seatbelt sign.” Instantly the hymn, “Nearer My God To Thee,” begins to play in my head. David said in the psalms, “But as for me, it is good to be near God…” (Psalms 73:28). Am I really nearer to God up here?

I look out the window and see the fields and ribbons of highways below. The busyness of life flows like ants on a hill as we pass over people who are out and about their daily lives. God is not any nearer up here than He is down there, I think. Not as long as I trust in Him.

I smile. Trust. Why is that so hard to do with God sometimes? Here I am flying through the air at hundreds of miles per hour, suspended 30,000 feet above the earth, trusting in the pilot of the plane to get us to our destination and land safely on the ground again.

David also said, “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.” (Psalms 20:7) Often I trust people, complete strangers, with my safety. The pilot. The taxi driver. The bus driver. I put myself in their care with hardly a thought to what I’ve done. Why not put myself in God’s hands as easily? I know how much he cares for me. Much more than any stranger would.

The plane starts to descend. I put up the tray table and bring my seat back to its original upright position. I begin my usual prayer, “God give us a safe landing. Be in the cockpit and guide our pilot.”

It is then I realize my trust isn’t in the pilot. I’ve trusted God all along. I’ve been in his hands—held 30,000 feet in the air. I’ve gained new insight. Whether soaring through the clouds in a jet or planting my feet firmly on the ground, I need to trust God. Trust Him for all my “safe landings” in life. Trust Him for guiding me safely to all my destinations. Trust in him for the hope of my salvation.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

Sunday Morning Worship - The Love Triangle

Bob and I have gotten into the practice of eating out on Saturdays when we are home. We have a favorite place that makes a great breakfast that isn't more than we can eat and for a terrific price. Not fancy but it is a gathering place for many on Saturday mornings. Several times we have overheard wonderful conversations that indicate some are gathering for Bible study or at least discussion. Yesterday was no exception.

Two men sat behind me and I caught snatches of conversation. It was about marriage but from a godly perspective. The word sin came up often in the discussion of marital problems that arise--in the sense that you need to look at yourself first before your spouse. It made me think about the premarital counseling our pastor did with us before we tied the knot almost 46 years ago.

Pastor Fish was a wise man and as I look back on it now I can say, even in his youth. (When you're young and starting out everyone else seems so much older.) He asked us if we wanted to get involved in a love triangle. I'm sure I blushed. Love triangle? Those are the things that get people into trouble in romance novels, I thought. But as he explained, I began to get a whole new look at what a love triangle could be.

The pastor explained that to keep a marriage solid and working there had to be an equilateral love triangle with God at the top and Bob and I starting out at the bottom angles. If we both kept the goal of getting closer to God in mind--moving up our side of the triangle, we would continue to get closer to each other as well. If not, the triangle would get out of shape and we would have problems.

I've thought back often to that love triangle. It's worked well in theory and in practice. Love triangles. They're not just for romance novels.

Sunday Morning Worship - The Left Hand

Most of my friends and family as well as many of my readers, I'm sure, are tired of hearing about my broken wrist so just one more mention here and I'm done--maybe. Playing tennis while we were in Florida, I fell backwards and immediately put out my left hand to cushion my fall. While I may have saved my head from cracking on the court, my wrist took the brunt of the fall. I thought (and desperately hoped) it was only a sprain but a few weeks later when it wasn't healing as it should, I saw my doctor and x-rays confirmed it as a fracture.

I'm right handed so everything I do depends upon that hand but I have found lately that my left hand has been doing a lot that I didn't realize was important. It's a holder of things. It's a balancer. It steadies the vegetables I need to cut and grasps jars and bottles for opening. It's a partner to my right hand when I'm getting dressed. Ever try to fasten a bra or tie a shoe with one hand?

If I may draw an analogy: I depend upon Jesus for my strength, my encouragement, the power to get through a day. He sits at the right hand of the Father but, I wonder, who's on the left? If I think of all the things my left hand does, I am reminded of family and friends who balance me, steady me, hold me, and partner with me as I walk this life's journey. While Jesus is foremost in my life, I love those "lefties" too.

There's Power In The Crosswalk

On our first trip to Bermuda I was amazed at the response to stepping into the crosswalk when you wanted to get to the other side of the street. The cars immediately stopped. That doesn't always happen here at home--at least not in a crosswalk where there is no traffic light.

Recently I started a new routine, an hour long walk in the morning to try to accomplish several things: lose weight, get more physical stamina, and spend some time in prayer. To make the walk long enough to stretch to an hour, I need to walk somewhere other than our
development and that puts me on a busy street. When I walk south, I'm forced to cross to the other side because the sidewalk ends on my side just before entering another community. Thankfully, there is a traffic light and a crossing signal.

It occurred to me one morning as I pushed the button and stood to wait for the traffic to stop what power I had. With a push of the button I had the power to stop traffic. There have been times I've seen others cross the street without using a crosswalk. Like Frogger, they dodge the traffic. Stopping on the median strip to wait for a break to run to the other side again.

Life is difficult. Why make it more so by not staying in the crosswalk? Or the Cross walk--the walk of faith that helps us through, around, and across the busy highway of life. There's power in the Cross walk.

Sunday Morning Worship - Seeds

The cottonwood trees seem to be really prolific this spring. The air is full of little fluffs of white each carrying a tiny seed and floating through the air on the slightest breeze. I remember my neighbor from the first house we ever owned who constantly bemoaned the the fact that we wouldn't cut down two very large cottonwood trees in our yard because every spring, she had to brush and vacuum the white fuzz from the screens in her windows.

The trees were tall and straight and provided shade for the house as well as rustling with the slightest breeze as the leaves twisted and turned. It always made me feel cooler on a hot day to think there at least was a breeze. The trees also reminded me of a huge cottonwood in front of the house my parents owned by the lake. It still stands today, despite the fact that my parents were told that it was a tree that only lasted a few years and would probably fall over in a good storm.

This week as we did our morning walks the little fluffs of white floated past us, lingered a bit on the grass, floated up again on the wind currents and off to who knows where. When they finally stop, there's a good chance that they will germinate if the ground is good and they have opportunity to take root. And while it may not be as stately or said to be as strong as an oak, a cottonwood as sturdy and enduring as the one by the lake just may be the result.

Is it any wonder Jesus would use the story of the farmer sowing seeds (Matthew 13) to illustrate how his word could take root
in someone's life when that person's heart has been prepared and ready to receive? One seed may grow a strong sturdy cottonwood but it will produce much more. God's word in one heart can produce so much more when it is sown in others' lives.

Sunday Morning Worship - Footprints of Faith

This past week a beautiful lady from our church took her final journey. I didn't know her long but in that short time it was apparent that she had a deep faith and love of Jesus. It was expressed also in the eulogies that came from friends and family.


When we travel, we are often reminded of the saying, "Take pictures. Leave footprints." (Except when we're diving it is "Leave bubbles.") Footprints of faith are made of love and are not like those made in the sand and washed away or even made on rock where they may not be visible. Faith footprints are what are impressed in memories, written on hearts, preserved as treasure that others might follow.

There is a song I love that expresses the importance of footprints of faith. The chorus goes like this:

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fire of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey
(Find Us Faithful, Steve Green)

As I listened to the wonderful memories Mervine inspired, I could only hope to do the same. Will the footprints that I leave lead them to believe? Will yours?

Sunday Morning Worship Thought

It was a wonderful trip, our cruise of the Galapagos Islands. I feared I would be discouraged with a lot of talk of Darwin and his theories but that wasn't the case. As a matter of fact, except for lots of things named after Darwin, little was contributed to him in the way of explaining the plants and animals we saw. Or perhaps I just couldn't see past God's creation to see the natural selection theory supported by Darwin.

I kept thinking of the wonderful Psalms that praise God for his creation. After having snorkeled with the sea lions, I remembered the lines of Psalm 104:

O Lord, what a variety of things you have made!
    In wisdom you have made them all.
    The earth is full of your creatures.
²⁵ Here is the ocean, vast and wide,
    teeming with life of every kind,
    both large and small.
²⁶ See the ships sailing along,
    and Leviathan, which you made to play in the sea.

See them play!

Okay, I know they aren't huge sea monsters but they are pretty big and certainly are playful. Amazing characters these sea lions God created. 

Sunday Morning Worship Thoughts - Poison Apples

One of the things that has stuck with me through all of the Galapagos trip is the poison apple tree we saw. I thought about it yesterday again as I spoke to a group of ladies at their Mother's Day Dinner. I was talking about princesses and finding a prince (the Prince of Peace) and told the story of Snow White who takes a bite of a poisoned apple offered by her evil stepmother, the queen. Disney certainly took politically incorrect views of stepmothers back in the day of the early films.

Poisoned apples are certainly dangerous whether they be offered by a stepmother casting a spell, inviting a taste as it hangs deliciously on a branch or encouraged to be indulged in by a charming snake. Eve learned a tough lesson in the garden but I can't help but wonder how that lesson served her in raising her children. Was she a more careful mother? Did she take more pains to be sure her children didn't make a similar mistake?

As we got to more public areas of Galapagos, wherever a poison apple tree grew, there were signs posted to warn visitors. You see, if you even touched the leaves you were in danger of getting a rash or worse depending upon your allergic reaction. And eating the apple? Well I don't want to even imagine what may have happened.

What if God had put sign up as well as telling Eve? Would it have made a difference? Probably not. He gives us signs and warnings all the time but so often we just plunge ahead anyway. Hopefully when we realize our mistake, our sin, we know to repent, to correct, to take measures to keep from repeating it over again. Maybe even make a sign ourselves to warn us not to indulge in the harmful ways but rather to live in the nourishing fruitful ways He has provided.