It wasn't very long ago that I first "met" Roger Flournoy Jr. via a short documentary of sorts produced by the Austin Stone Community Church.
Mr. Flournoy has cerebral palsy, but despite the challenges that this presents, he is a passionate and convicting example of choosing to have faith and be joyful in the Lord.
Today as I was reading some of his tweets, I found this excellent quote:
"My goal for this year is only to love people the way that Jesus loves them."
Mr. Flournoy's goal challenges me.
In a world that knows "love" primarily as "showing affection (or doing whatever it takes) to gain whatever I want", the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ is completely baffling.
If I were to passionately, honestly pursue this goal, what a drastic change would take place! Of course, it is necessary to find out what the love of Jesus Christ really looks like; therefore, a continual taking in and meditating on Scripture is key.
Recently, I've been reading through Matthew and Mark and have seen many of the things that Jesus did during His time on earth in a physical body. From the Gospel books, I gain so much understanding of Jesus' type of love. From reaching out to diseased and despised women to socially-terrifying lepers, Jesus showed His unconcern for social stereotypes or physical contaminants. One of the most striking examples to me of Jesus' lack of self-awareness and love and concern for others is illustrated in Matthew 14:3, 10, 12-14,
"For Herod had laid hold on John, and bound him, and put him in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife.
And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison.
And his disciples came, and took up the body, and buried it, and went and told Jesus.
When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart: and when the people had heard thereof, they followed him on foot out of the cities.
And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick."
Despite the sorrow He must have felt at the death of His cousin (as a Man) and the death of His holy servant (as the Son of God), despite the sadness over the depravity of mankind that would lead to such a murder, Jesus instead focused on the needs and hurts of those around Him. That is a love like no other. That is a love that the world doesn't understand, can't offer, and, too often, doesn't experience from believers.
This is the year for that to change. With the Lord's help, I will pursue this goal.
Friday, February 19, 2016
Five Minute Friday: Forget
Finally rejoining my fellow-writers at Kate Motaung's mighty-Friday link-up! Today's word, forget, is just right for sharing some great thoughts I caught at Desiring God today!
So, without further ado, here we go!
Why is it so easy to forget something that is so vital to life? In his article, "Rest in the Prince of Peace," Jon Bloom talks about the power and blessing of prayer when we come to the Lord with all that is on our mind and let Him take the weight for us.
Bloom indicates that prayer is like a natural exhalation for the faith-filled believer and further says that "prayer is the native language of faith" a quote which I fell in love with. Maybe the reason I relate to it so much is due to the topics that are on my mind of late.
Namely: missionaries who are ministering to tribes in their own "heart language", the issue of worry that at least three of my friends have noticed in me (a fault that sneakily has flown under my radar for far too long!), and various needs and decisions that have seemed to swamp me in my mental "quiet place".
Yet if, as Bloom encourages, taking "every thing to God in prayer" is the way to the blessed and peaceful life, I want to do it!
I want to be that follower of Christ who "breathes out prayer" like the continual intake and export of air.
I want Jesus Christ and the pure,good, best!, solutions of my Father to be my first thought.
I want the advice and wisdom I can find in the true Word of God to be the things I live by. I don't want to forget.
As people ask me to pray for their needs, as decisions crop up in my life which need "urgent attention", may I forget my own "plan of attack",
or ideas,
or solutions,
and remember to take each need humbly to my Loving Heavenly Father Who cares and can help.
So, without further ado, here we go!
Why is it so easy to forget something that is so vital to life? In his article, "Rest in the Prince of Peace," Jon Bloom talks about the power and blessing of prayer when we come to the Lord with all that is on our mind and let Him take the weight for us.
Bloom indicates that prayer is like a natural exhalation for the faith-filled believer and further says that "prayer is the native language of faith" a quote which I fell in love with. Maybe the reason I relate to it so much is due to the topics that are on my mind of late.
Namely: missionaries who are ministering to tribes in their own "heart language", the issue of worry that at least three of my friends have noticed in me (a fault that sneakily has flown under my radar for far too long!), and various needs and decisions that have seemed to swamp me in my mental "quiet place".
Yet if, as Bloom encourages, taking "every thing to God in prayer" is the way to the blessed and peaceful life, I want to do it!
I want to be that follower of Christ who "breathes out prayer" like the continual intake and export of air.
I want Jesus Christ and the pure,
I want the advice and wisdom I can find in the true Word of God to be the things I live by. I don't want to forget.
As people ask me to pray for their needs, as decisions crop up in my life which need "urgent attention", may I forget my own "plan of attack",
or ideas,
or solutions,
and remember to take each need humbly to my Loving Heavenly Father Who cares and can help.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Five Minute Friday: Focus
Today joining Five Minute Friday after long last! The word is Focus. (Why don't you come along with me and see what my fellow FMF writers have to say about focusing?)
Start.
"I have trouble focusing sometimes," he said. I smiled; I had noticed. But then, I had trouble with getting distracted easily myself, so who was I to judge? Still though, inside I thought, "Just focus."
In life, besides getting distracted with irrelevant movement and noise, we're bombarded with irrelevant information, even faulty news that can have a damaging affect on our lives if we're not careful.
Recently I got a jolt to realize that, spiritually, I was looking pretty bankrupt. I began to take in large chunks of Scripture, trying to focus again on Christ, trying to get back into alignment with my Lord.
Mercifully, it is working. The Lord has worked (and is working) to "regain my full face" that was pulled away and not focusing on His wonderful face.
He's also teaching more about trusting Him.
For years I have know that He is trustworthy, but there was always that nagging thought in the back of my mind, "But can /I/ trust Him?" Not that He is worthy of being doubted, but am I able to trust? to put my full weight against Him and know that He will hold me up? Do I have that ability or am I hopeless?
Yes, I am hopeless. Without Christ, I am hopeless. But through Christ, I am the victor as He patiently teaches me to focus on Him and put my full weight and all my trust in Him.
Tonight I am stretching out my hand, reaching toward focusing on the gloriousness of my Savior. Will you join me?
End.
Start.
"I have trouble focusing sometimes," he said. I smiled; I had noticed. But then, I had trouble with getting distracted easily myself, so who was I to judge? Still though, inside I thought, "Just focus."
In life, besides getting distracted with irrelevant movement and noise, we're bombarded with irrelevant information, even faulty news that can have a damaging affect on our lives if we're not careful.
Recently I got a jolt to realize that, spiritually, I was looking pretty bankrupt. I began to take in large chunks of Scripture, trying to focus again on Christ, trying to get back into alignment with my Lord.
Mercifully, it is working. The Lord has worked (and is working) to "regain my full face" that was pulled away and not focusing on His wonderful face.
He's also teaching more about trusting Him.
For years I have know that He is trustworthy, but there was always that nagging thought in the back of my mind, "But can /I/ trust Him?" Not that He is worthy of being doubted, but am I able to trust? to put my full weight against Him and know that He will hold me up? Do I have that ability or am I hopeless?
Yes, I am hopeless. Without Christ, I am hopeless. But through Christ, I am the victor as He patiently teaches me to focus on Him and put my full weight and all my trust in Him.
Tonight I am stretching out my hand, reaching toward focusing on the gloriousness of my Savior. Will you join me?
End.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
"The Proof of Your Love"
I'm not the biggest fan of contemporary Christian music, yet there are some songs I hear from time to time that stir something within me beyond what I can put into cognitive phrases. "The Proof of Your Love" is one of those songs.
Performed by the band For King and Country, it is the song-form of the well-known "love passage" of 1 Corinthians 13. It impacted me when I first heard it, but days and years have a way of making me forgetful. I find that that song has taken its place among hundreds of beloved songs I wish I could remember all the time, but which sadly are waiting for me to unearth them from the complicated filing system of my brain.
Today, something or Someone (my Lord, Who does best at reminding me of important things), made me think of this song, so I looked it up on youtube to see what I could find.
King and Country's official video of the song dramatically portrays the power of love. I pulled back a bit at first, both intrigued and uncertain as to what the characters and plot were really depicting. After watching it over and over, I find that I am touched by the drama almost as much as I was originally touched by the words. If you aren't "into" this kind of thing, excuse my ramblings, please. But if you take a look, maybe you'll be as positively impacted as I am being. Here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-2dKOfbC9c.
I am including the full chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 (found from Biblegateway.com) that my mother taught Kyrie and myself when we were children. These words never grow old.
3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
Performed by the band For King and Country, it is the song-form of the well-known "love passage" of 1 Corinthians 13. It impacted me when I first heard it, but days and years have a way of making me forgetful. I find that that song has taken its place among hundreds of beloved songs I wish I could remember all the time, but which sadly are waiting for me to unearth them from the complicated filing system of my brain.
Today, something or Someone (my Lord, Who does best at reminding me of important things), made me think of this song, so I looked it up on youtube to see what I could find.
King and Country's official video of the song dramatically portrays the power of love. I pulled back a bit at first, both intrigued and uncertain as to what the characters and plot were really depicting. After watching it over and over, I find that I am touched by the drama almost as much as I was originally touched by the words. If you aren't "into" this kind of thing, excuse my ramblings, please. But if you take a look, maybe you'll be as positively impacted as I am being. Here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-2dKOfbC9c.
I am including the full chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 (found from Biblegateway.com) that my mother taught Kyrie and myself when we were children. These words never grow old.
1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
2 And
though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and
all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove
mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Christmas Ramblings
"I'll get all the ingredients together and then when Kyrie gets in, we can stir it up together."
My Mother began rummaging in her deep chest freezer for the candied fruit stored there. Even though I can barely make heads or tails of it sometimes, she usually has the deep freeze all figured out in her mind. She has a system, she knows where things are in her realms, not just in her food storage, but in her desk and dresser drawers, her closet, and the under-bed storage containers. "A place for everything and everything in its place" my Grandfather used to say. I guess she got it from him. It was passed down to Kyrie, too. If I ask to borrow anything from her, be it shirt or stapler, she can tell me exactly where whatever it is should be. "Top right-hand drawer in my desk on the left-hand side at the back" she might say and there it will be. She has the gift of organization, definitely. I guess that's why she's such a great secretary at Victory Road Academy.
So Mother gathered the ingredients. The night before she had searched through her recipes for just the right one: The Grandmother's special fruitcake recipe. You may laugh. You're welcome to. Maybe your encounters with fruitcake have been less than pleasant. Perhaps you have always thought that fruitcake was no more than a joke, a gift you give to those you want to prank. Not so with our family. Oh my! this is the best fruitcake ever. I can't give you the recipe (top secret, you understand), but I will say it doesn't have a drop of alcohol in it and it does have an ingredient that causes me to feel curiously smug: a cup of decaf coffee! :) Yep, my Grandmother's fruitcake is the best. Last year we didn't make it. There were several things that we didn't do last year without our dear Grandmother, but this year making fruitcake was on our list of "musts".
So Kyrie came in and in just two or so hours, we had the cakes slid in the oven. Okay, it shouldn't really take that long, but we weren't in any hurry and, too, after a year of not making it, we had to be refreshed on just how to do it. But after all the prep time and all the baking time, the results were well worth it!!
Fruitcak-ing isn't the only thing we've "been into". We got the decorations put up the day after Thanksgiving. (If you haven't seen this video, you really should! Ky and I found it hilarious and so relatable!) We've spent time watching movies as a family and playing some games. Tonight, though, I found myself sitting with my family and wanting to find something fascinating to look at as I surfed the internet. My thoughts were distracted by the recent holiday outfit updates one trendy mom has posted on her pulled-together blog. She's so perfect. So pretty. So stylish. Another "cyber sister" and her life floated through my thoughts. Her family is gorgeous. She is sweet and gentle, honest, and humble. Her photography is excellent and her blog posts leave me gazing and longing.... and discontented. "When I marry...." or "When I have my own home..." These are the thoughts that march unchecked across the terrain of my brain. Wait a Minute!! Who said you could get in here?! I closed the lid of my computer and looked around our living room. Dad had headed to bed by this time, but I had gotten to play three games of Mancala with him. Mother sat beside me looking at her computer and Kyrie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom just down the hall. I began to express appreciation for the things I could see around me. Although I felt kinda crazy doing it, I needed to do it. Not just for me, but maybe for my family, too. "Don't say what you don't like," Kyrie had said once. "Talk about what you love." I don't think the saying was necessarily original with her, but it was so true and I, who have a tendency to be negative at times, have tried to implement it as I think to do so.
"I love our floor rug. It is so pretty. That was so sweet of Aunt Edna to get it for us." My eyes moved to our furniture set. "We've got a nice mission-style coffee table." I lit on the items collected on the shiny glass surface Kyrie had bought for Mother ten years ago. Mother had so wanted something to protect the top of her spiffy coffee table and Kyrie with her huge, generous heart had bought it for her. "I like the Christmas magazines Kyrie put out for us to enjoy. They're so Christmas-ey." Kyrie poked her head out. "What did you say?" I repeated myself. "Oh," she smiled that cute, pleased grin of hers.
"I like the pinecones," I continued. "They're so simple and decorative. I like my metal bell and its cheery 'ring-tone." I laughed. "I like our ornaments and our variegated lights. I like our garland. I like our Purple Angel. She's so regal and elegant." This little crepe lady has adorned our bookcase at Christmastime for years. Purple's not really a Christmas color, but Kyrie and I love her and pull her out each year to join our assortment of mix-matched, sentiment-filled conglomeration of Christmas decorations. "I love our Christmas card from the Steiners. It's so retro and Christmas-cheery." Mother hadn't really said anything yet, but she smiled and nodded intermittently as she researched better quilting methods. Kyrie hadn't seen the Steiner's card and now arose to inspect the card. "Ooh!" (Obviously she liked it, too.)
"I like our straw paper garland on the rafia/twine. It's so simple and special."
Suddenly my home was wonderful. It had been all along, but I had been so caught up in someone else's life, in those who have "perfect existences" (when I know better; they really don't have flawless lives). I hadn't taken time to consider all the special parts about my own. I have so much to be grateful for, to thank my Heavenly Father for, and yet I had focused on what others have that I don't. How sad. How shameful that it was so easy to do.
I started reading Corrie ten Boom's Tramp for the Lord (with Jamie Buckingham) tonight. Her dependence upon the Lord is so convicting to read. I fear all I have being stripped away: my family, friends, health, any attractiveness I might have, anything I have "going for me". But doesn't that indicate that I'm leaning on them instead of the One Who gave them to me? And if He should take them away, which He has the right to do if He so chose, what would my reaction be? Would I be drawn to Him because of that pain or would I shrivel up like a plant with too little soil? This Christmas I have so much to learn, not only in culinary skills, but in my relationship with the Lord Jesus. Is He enough for me? Yes, Christ is Enough. He is More Than Enough,... but do I know it?
My Mother began rummaging in her deep chest freezer for the candied fruit stored there. Even though I can barely make heads or tails of it sometimes, she usually has the deep freeze all figured out in her mind. She has a system, she knows where things are in her realms, not just in her food storage, but in her desk and dresser drawers, her closet, and the under-bed storage containers. "A place for everything and everything in its place" my Grandfather used to say. I guess she got it from him. It was passed down to Kyrie, too. If I ask to borrow anything from her, be it shirt or stapler, she can tell me exactly where whatever it is should be. "Top right-hand drawer in my desk on the left-hand side at the back" she might say and there it will be. She has the gift of organization, definitely. I guess that's why she's such a great secretary at Victory Road Academy.
So Mother gathered the ingredients. The night before she had searched through her recipes for just the right one: The Grandmother's special fruitcake recipe. You may laugh. You're welcome to. Maybe your encounters with fruitcake have been less than pleasant. Perhaps you have always thought that fruitcake was no more than a joke, a gift you give to those you want to prank. Not so with our family. Oh my! this is the best fruitcake ever. I can't give you the recipe (top secret, you understand), but I will say it doesn't have a drop of alcohol in it and it does have an ingredient that causes me to feel curiously smug: a cup of decaf coffee! :) Yep, my Grandmother's fruitcake is the best. Last year we didn't make it. There were several things that we didn't do last year without our dear Grandmother, but this year making fruitcake was on our list of "musts".
So Kyrie came in and in just two or so hours, we had the cakes slid in the oven. Okay, it shouldn't really take that long, but we weren't in any hurry and, too, after a year of not making it, we had to be refreshed on just how to do it. But after all the prep time and all the baking time, the results were well worth it!!
Fruitcak-ing isn't the only thing we've "been into". We got the decorations put up the day after Thanksgiving. (If you haven't seen this video, you really should! Ky and I found it hilarious and so relatable!) We've spent time watching movies as a family and playing some games. Tonight, though, I found myself sitting with my family and wanting to find something fascinating to look at as I surfed the internet. My thoughts were distracted by the recent holiday outfit updates one trendy mom has posted on her pulled-together blog. She's so perfect. So pretty. So stylish. Another "cyber sister" and her life floated through my thoughts. Her family is gorgeous. She is sweet and gentle, honest, and humble. Her photography is excellent and her blog posts leave me gazing and longing.... and discontented. "When I marry...." or "When I have my own home..." These are the thoughts that march unchecked across the terrain of my brain. Wait a Minute!! Who said you could get in here?! I closed the lid of my computer and looked around our living room. Dad had headed to bed by this time, but I had gotten to play three games of Mancala with him. Mother sat beside me looking at her computer and Kyrie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom just down the hall. I began to express appreciation for the things I could see around me. Although I felt kinda crazy doing it, I needed to do it. Not just for me, but maybe for my family, too. "Don't say what you don't like," Kyrie had said once. "Talk about what you love." I don't think the saying was necessarily original with her, but it was so true and I, who have a tendency to be negative at times, have tried to implement it as I think to do so.
"I love our floor rug. It is so pretty. That was so sweet of Aunt Edna to get it for us." My eyes moved to our furniture set. "We've got a nice mission-style coffee table." I lit on the items collected on the shiny glass surface Kyrie had bought for Mother ten years ago. Mother had so wanted something to protect the top of her spiffy coffee table and Kyrie with her huge, generous heart had bought it for her. "I like the Christmas magazines Kyrie put out for us to enjoy. They're so Christmas-ey." Kyrie poked her head out. "What did you say?" I repeated myself. "Oh," she smiled that cute, pleased grin of hers.
"I like the pinecones," I continued. "They're so simple and decorative. I like my metal bell and its cheery 'ring-tone." I laughed. "I like our ornaments and our variegated lights. I like our garland. I like our Purple Angel. She's so regal and elegant." This little crepe lady has adorned our bookcase at Christmastime for years. Purple's not really a Christmas color, but Kyrie and I love her and pull her out each year to join our assortment of mix-matched, sentiment-filled conglomeration of Christmas decorations. "I love our Christmas card from the Steiners. It's so retro and Christmas-cheery." Mother hadn't really said anything yet, but she smiled and nodded intermittently as she researched better quilting methods. Kyrie hadn't seen the Steiner's card and now arose to inspect the card. "Ooh!" (Obviously she liked it, too.)
"I like our straw paper garland on the rafia/twine. It's so simple and special."
Suddenly my home was wonderful. It had been all along, but I had been so caught up in someone else's life, in those who have "perfect existences" (when I know better; they really don't have flawless lives). I hadn't taken time to consider all the special parts about my own. I have so much to be grateful for, to thank my Heavenly Father for, and yet I had focused on what others have that I don't. How sad. How shameful that it was so easy to do.
I started reading Corrie ten Boom's Tramp for the Lord (with Jamie Buckingham) tonight. Her dependence upon the Lord is so convicting to read. I fear all I have being stripped away: my family, friends, health, any attractiveness I might have, anything I have "going for me". But doesn't that indicate that I'm leaning on them instead of the One Who gave them to me? And if He should take them away, which He has the right to do if He so chose, what would my reaction be? Would I be drawn to Him because of that pain or would I shrivel up like a plant with too little soil? This Christmas I have so much to learn, not only in culinary skills, but in my relationship with the Lord Jesus. Is He enough for me? Yes, Christ is Enough. He is More Than Enough,... but do I know it?
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Write 31: Almost
{Start.}
It was almost raining as I headed down my driveway. I say almost, it actually had been raining off and on all day, but now the rain had paused again and I was heading out into the grayness for a lovely walk down our gravel lane. I used to dislike rain, but due to Kyrie's love of it, I have grown to like it as well.
The sky was overcast and wonderful and I watched a new calf scampering in the windiness across the pasture. It stopped in surprise as a flash of lightning snaked down the sky a few miles away.
I didn't know how long I had before the clouds would open up again, but I was enjoying the walk. I turned around at my grandparent's house. I had to get something from inside and when I was ready to leave I could hear a downpour. I debated whether to stay inside 'til it slacked up a little, but I decided since it was so warm to just enjoy it and run home. Besides, I had my umbrella.
I couldn't keep a laugh from bursting out as I splashed down the lane in the downpour. Probably will be the last rain I enjoy this year. It has almost gotten too cold for a run like that. I reveled in the currents that covered my flip-flops and surged around my ankles. Lightning flashed and I was getting soaked, but I was loving it.
I wish that everyone could have that kind of fun. Freeness, laughter, a run in the rain, before winter almost overtakes us. Pure happiness. I almost wish that autumn could stay forever.
{Stop.}
It was almost raining as I headed down my driveway. I say almost, it actually had been raining off and on all day, but now the rain had paused again and I was heading out into the grayness for a lovely walk down our gravel lane. I used to dislike rain, but due to Kyrie's love of it, I have grown to like it as well.
The sky was overcast and wonderful and I watched a new calf scampering in the windiness across the pasture. It stopped in surprise as a flash of lightning snaked down the sky a few miles away.
I didn't know how long I had before the clouds would open up again, but I was enjoying the walk. I turned around at my grandparent's house. I had to get something from inside and when I was ready to leave I could hear a downpour. I debated whether to stay inside 'til it slacked up a little, but I decided since it was so warm to just enjoy it and run home. Besides, I had my umbrella.
I couldn't keep a laugh from bursting out as I splashed down the lane in the downpour. Probably will be the last rain I enjoy this year. It has almost gotten too cold for a run like that. I reveled in the currents that covered my flip-flops and surged around my ankles. Lightning flashed and I was getting soaked, but I was loving it.
I wish that everyone could have that kind of fun. Freeness, laughter, a run in the rain, before winter almost overtakes us. Pure happiness. I almost wish that autumn could stay forever.
{Stop.}
Friday, October 30, 2015
Write 31: Bacon
{Start.}
When I was a child, oatmeal was "weekday breakfast fare" and on Saturdays, Mother fixed a "special breakfast." One of the "special foods" was bacon which, somewhere along the line, creative Kyrie or myself decided we would pretend was scorpion. Was this because of the imaginative play that my Mother inspired through the crafts and play things she would provide? Or was it because novel ideas, far away places, and exotic foods were part of our growing up and our heritage?
My grandparents were missionaries in three South American countries for about 34 years all told. Missionary blood is in my veins, and bacon, with it's well-done curling "endpoints" looked a whole lot like the tails of the scorpions on the traveling shows we would watch on Sunday evenings after church with my Dad. My mother grew up on the mission field, she would read missionary stories to Ky and myself as we were growing up, "the world" was at our fingertips, and "foreign lands" were more familiar to me than an icee from the gas station. (Yes, I still remember wondering what that thing was my friend was slurping away on. No, I was not a deprived child.)
So, what will the Lord do with me? Where will He have taken me when the story of my life is all told? I can only imagine. And wish and pray and prepare as best I can so that wherever, whenever, however, I can eagerly say, "Lord, here I am. Whether You call me to a place that eats bacon or fried scorpion, I'm ready--with Your help! Here am I, send me!"
{Stop.}
Five Minute Friday is a blog get-together hosted by Kate Motaung. You can link up with us over at her spot in the bloggosphere where you can read her post about bacon, as well as meet up with some other fantastic writers! And if you're wondering what Write 31 is, I'll let you discover what this brilliant is idea for yourself! :)
When I was a child, oatmeal was "weekday breakfast fare" and on Saturdays, Mother fixed a "special breakfast." One of the "special foods" was bacon which, somewhere along the line, creative Kyrie or myself decided we would pretend was scorpion. Was this because of the imaginative play that my Mother inspired through the crafts and play things she would provide? Or was it because novel ideas, far away places, and exotic foods were part of our growing up and our heritage?
My grandparents were missionaries in three South American countries for about 34 years all told. Missionary blood is in my veins, and bacon, with it's well-done curling "endpoints" looked a whole lot like the tails of the scorpions on the traveling shows we would watch on Sunday evenings after church with my Dad. My mother grew up on the mission field, she would read missionary stories to Ky and myself as we were growing up, "the world" was at our fingertips, and "foreign lands" were more familiar to me than an icee from the gas station. (Yes, I still remember wondering what that thing was my friend was slurping away on. No, I was not a deprived child.)
So, what will the Lord do with me? Where will He have taken me when the story of my life is all told? I can only imagine. And wish and pray and prepare as best I can so that wherever, whenever, however, I can eagerly say, "Lord, here I am. Whether You call me to a place that eats bacon or fried scorpion, I'm ready--with Your help! Here am I, send me!"
{Stop.}
Five Minute Friday is a blog get-together hosted by Kate Motaung. You can link up with us over at her spot in the bloggosphere where you can read her post about bacon, as well as meet up with some other fantastic writers! And if you're wondering what Write 31 is, I'll let you discover what this brilliant is idea for yourself! :)
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