Charlie Kirk's Assassination--What Use Was Prayer?

 Today Charlie Kirk, a conservative "firebrand" and co-founder of Turning Point USA, was assassinated by a single bullet at a university campus in Utah. I don't listen to much news, mostly notice headlines and read a few articles a week, so to be honest, I didn't at first know who my sister was talking about when she sent a message about Charlie getting shot.  Seeing photos later, I recognized Kirk, but I hadn't really listened to him very often. By the end of the day, though, he was a household name. 

At first it was hoped he might make it, though he was described as critical. Thousands, perhaps millions of prayers must have winged heavenward this afternoon as people waited for news.  

"Please help him be okay." 

 

He was not okay. He died. 

On Crystal's phone, as she fried potatoes and ground bison and garden vegetables for supper, we watched Megan Kelly and Glenn Beck talking about the shooting, both of them crying. Glenn bawled unashamedly.

I had never seen commentators bawling without even trying to cover up. I had never seen a man weep like that on the news. And that was before the announcement came from Deseret news that Charlie had not made it.

So what use are our prayers?  

 

Some nights recently when I couldn't get to sleep, I'd lie in bed praying. I'd fold my hands and let my body language say words I wasn't coming up with in my mind. But then in the last few days, I've been learning to not fold my hands, but hold them. 

Hold them open to the Father, Who knows what is best. 

Hold them open in surrender.  

Hold them open to receive peace. 

In most areas of life, Greg Feulner wrote in the Samaritan Ministries newsletter this month, we do things ourselves. If we are hungry, we make a meal. If we don't want a messy house, we clean it. If we need to write an email, we sit down at the computer and type away. 

"But in prayer," Greg wrote, "rather than exercising control, we surrender our control."

 

 There it was again--just what God was showing me--changing my clenched hands into open ones.

Releasing the hands that were balled into a fist--and holding them open and empty before God.  

"Prayer is our acknowledgement of our humanness, of our total dependency on the Giver of life.

In prayer, we come before the throne empty-handed, seeking Him...."

Today thousands came empty-handed to our Father. Were our hands balled into a fist, or were they open and surrendered?

What if, like me, more people will hear about what Charlie stood for because of his death than because of his life? 

What if God will work more good from Charlie's death than his life?

What if others will choose to follow in his footsteps and speak up for truth not only on university campuses but all sorts of places?

What if we must look to God instead of to Charlie Kirk now for truth and right answers? 

What if, in other areas of our lives, we held our hands open to our Father instead of raising a clenched fist? 

What if, in releasing control to God, He gives us in return His peace? 

 

Never Despair. But if You Do...

 Yesterday when I found myself pacing with distraction and distress, I remembered the adage I have kept in my Bible: "Never despair; but if you do, work on in despair."

It's what I did one summer, many years ago, on a day of one of my very worst memories. Despair was wreaking havoc with me and my family, but that was the day we had to can about 60 quarts of corn. 

I remember the heartache working its way clear to my fingertips, the heavy load we carried as we husked, steamed, packed into jars, and canned for 1 1/2 hours each batch of 7 quarts of sweet corn. 

It was a terrible day of despair. But we worked on. We finished the job, cleared away the husks and swept away the silky tassles from the porch. Jar lids snapped as they sealed. We went to bed, still in despair, tired, and work worn. 

But we got through that day and many more. We worked on in despair, and finally the clouds cleared and joy came again.  

At the school house near Laura Ingalls' family's homestead near De Smet, there was a very old school desk with words engraved in the metal bracing of the desk seat, "Never Give Up."

As I was told recently, "There is too much at stake."

Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote, "When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."

 

Never give up. Never despair; but if you do, work on in despair. As surely as tides flood in, they also go out, and as surely as the shower falls, the rainbow forms in the clouds. 

When the Light Goes Out of Your Life

A gloomy darkness threatened to settle into my life in the last few weeks. God had been so very good to shed so much mercy on my pathway through cancer besides so many other goodnesses and mercies.

And then other heartaches came. 

I remembered when Jonathan's mother passed away, the words his dad wept in a moment of deepest grief, "The light has gone out of my life."

And what could we say to comfort him?
There are times when there are no words.

An arm around a shoulder, a silent sympathy, a wordless prayer sent heavenward is all that we could do--and yet such a prayer is answered.

Light came again into Daddy Lucas's life when Ruth Runnells and he discovered that they were enjoying each other's companionship in the aftermath of loss for each of them. They have been married well over two years now, even though Daddy Lucas was already 86 when they married.

But there are losses far greater and far more extensive and far more heartbreaking.

What do you do when the light goes out of one's life?

The sun that was my light by day

Has set. The moon has dimmed its glow.

The candle in my room is snuffed,

The last small star is gone also.

The grief, the loss, the pain, the night,

The darkness I can feel.

Where are You, God, when sun has set

On wounds that cannot heal?

I cannot count the hours of night

Before a taunting dawn.

I cannot sleep in night this dark

With all the starlight gone.

But down the long, dark hall of fear

I see a sudden glow.

Is it a candle or a lamp?

A window for my soul?

The radiance brightens as I move

On through the tunnel of despair.

I don't deserve the sense of Love

That beckons me with "I am there."

And suddenly I'm in the light

So bright my eyes must close.

I shield my gaze and bow my head.

I'm warmed from head to toes.

The Lord has come, His Love the Sun

That's bursting through the night.

The Lord, the everlasting God--

He is my dawn, my light!

--Anna Lucas

A Sister's Love--and Let it Be

 My dear younger sister Joella sent me a sunshine box just after my recent surgery. 

In it were a beautiful new purse and several articles of clothing including the top and skirt that I wore to church Sunday. The top and skirt actually matched--something I have a hard time doing. 

 I have a hard time matching clothes. (And everybody in the peanut gallery said Amen.)

So it was super nice to have a classy sister send me some clothes she bought just for me at an outlet store but brand new, and the skirt even fit PERFECTLY without me having to sew pleats or let out seams or use safety pins. 

(Oops, I'm letting my secrets out.)

I try hard to do things like everyone else, such as wear matching clothes, but I just don't have the gifts others do. So I have to be content with how I am and who I am. 

Also I have to let go of how other people are. 

And how some circumstances are. 

I can't fix everything, not even some things. Only a few things.

I can't make things better for most people. I can't force themto  make healthy choices.

I don't know other people's hearts or minds or motives.

I am not God. 

And I don't dare play God, either. 

I'm not the other person's Holy Spirit. Only He is that. 

There are some things that the best and safest thing to do is to just 

let it be.

Some people's lives don't match their claims or their testimonies. Can I fix them?

Let them be.

I have enough to do to live authentically and holy myself. 

Some people's prayers about relationships are up in the sky while they refuse to obey the simplest guidelines God gave us on this earth, which if they would do, their prayers would quickly be answered. 

Let them be.

As the plaque said on the wall of the place where we stayed a week and a half ago, "Let it Be."

I thought, "Wow!  A lot of problems would resolve if we followed that motto."

Obviously we can't just sit on the couch and veg and just lazily let everything be; and ministers can't just let everything be without preaching about God's demands for holiness and right living and godliness in our hearts, lives, and homes; 

and as moms we certainly have to look well to the ways of our household and train up our children in the way they should go, including godly discipline for the learning of obedience;

and there are surely at least one or two or many situations around us that we could truly help in a generous, caring, and godly way;

 but there are some situations where we would be better off to let it be.

Perhaps today, we could choose one or two things that rankle us, 

and let it be. 

We might discover more peace in the midst of the storm. 

To Be Honest and Truthful--and Content

 "It is still best to be honest and truthful, and to make the most of what we have."

That is the quote on a slate at the Laura Ingalls Wilder gift shop near De Smet. We need that reminder, not only from the Bible, but from real people who are living real lives.

I am still getting blog post ideas from that excursion a week and a half ago. 

I am reminded of the poem, 

The Three Gates
by Beth Day, 1835

If you are tempted to reveal
A tale to you someone has told
About another, make it pass,
Before you speak, three gates of gold;
These narrow gates. First, “Is it true?”
Then, “Is it needful?” In your mind
Give truthful answer. And the next
Is last and narrowest, “Is it kind?”
And if to reach your lips at last
It passes through these gateways three,
Then you may tell the tale, nor fear
What the result of speech may be.

Thanks, Laura Ingalls, for an extra reminder as we go about our daily lives. 

And here is a post I accidentally ran across while searching for this poem that I couldn't remember.

https://liveaquietlife.blogspot.com/2019/01/the-three-gates-plus-one.html

Ripe Plums Rain Down

Today hundreds of ripe plums rained down from the branches of the plum tree at our friend Mathel's place as we shook the branches. 

I showed the girls how to do it--not pulling with terrible jerks that will break branches, but with sturdy, quick, fast jerks that will keep only ripe plums falling off their stems. 

Underneath the tree Mathel had spread a tarp which we moved about as we shook branches. We placed it in about four or five different spots all around the tree, taking turns shaking branches all around. 

It reminded me of the plums Jonathan's mother used to have on a small tree in their back yard. What a treat plums are! We got gallons today and plan to can most of them. 

I made the mistake of pulling a plum off of a branch to eat rather than choosing to pick up a ripe plum from the tarp or that had already fallen into the grass. That plum was so tart it nearly turned my mouth inside out!

I am reminded of how we must wait the proper timing for so many things in life. Just as farmers wait for just the right day to harvest grain or vegetables and ranchers wait until just the right season for calving or weaning or haying, we must patiently wait for the fruit to ripen, for good works to be rewarded, and for vengeance to be meted out by God upon unrepentant sinners.

We must wait, sometimes interminably, for God to answer prayer;

but in His time, according to His will,

He will. 

"In His time, in His time

He makes all things beautiful in His time. 

Lord please show me every day

As You're teaching me Your way,

That You do just what You say, 

In Your time!"

Caught Hugging in the Kitchen

This morning you might have caught someone hugging in our kitchen. 

That would have been me and my husband. 

You might also have caught us kissing in a small park six days ago after our De Smet outing, with Jonathan noticing our shadow and deciding to get a photo of it. 

(Can you believe it was actually his idea?)

Hugging and unashamed.

Kissing and unashamed.

Long hugs and kisses, and not a bit ashamed of it.

Grateful, rather. 

"I'm thankful for you," I told him, thinking of the long hours he spent last night after being deluged with no less than three things needing to be fixed--the frozen computer, the non-working air conditioner at Lakota Chapel, and the broken down Honda.

"Can I go with you?" I had asked, as he headed off to the church and our broken down vehicle Crystal had driven to the care center where she had a driving job.

So I had jumped into the truck, him holding the door while I tried to get past the muddy step. And we had ridden off together down the driveway, stopping for a picture of the rainbow.  

"When Anna touches electronics," Jonathan drawled, "they quit working. And when Crystal touches a vehicle, it breaks down."

He said this with an invisible twinkle, of course, because, help us alive, it's an exaggeration. But I do struggle with computers, and Crystal has been using our old van for driving Amish a few times and the vehicles are breaking down with this or that issue just because they are old. 

I remembered that we could be grateful that the serpentine belt in the Honda had not stripped off last weekend when we were hours away, but happened only one mile away.

Jonathan couldn't fix the Honda problem last night, so he moved on to the air conditioner problem, and Crystal and I talked to each other about how Jonathan has to fix so many things, and how grateful we are for our "fix-it" man. 

He deserves to always have supper ready on time-every single day. I told Crystal so.

Because I teach my daughters how to treat their future husbands.

You treat them with love and respect, and you have suppers ready and the table set on time for them when they arrive home from work.

(I love to hear my men come in the door like they did last night saying, "Mm! Something smells good!")

This morning I thought of how Jonathan worked till past 10:00 to find the problem with the air conditioner, discovering finally that mice had stripped wiring bare somewhere and it was shorting. 

It's raining again outside now, raining tears for all the sorrows and pain that unhappy couples face in the world,

but in the middle of it all, rainbows still exist.

Rainbows like the one we went to look for last night as the sun shone through our kitchen window.

A double rainbow. 

Couples are still being true to each other, no matter what.

Husbands are still loving their wives, and wives are choosing to respect and submit to their own (not someone else's) husband.

Couples choosing to forgive one another on an ongoing basis and live in love and open communication.

Children are growing up and marrying well in the Lord. 

Babies are being conceived, and loved, and born, and loved more.

A daughter and son-in-law send photos of our darling granddaughter several times a week--

the sweet child with huge, bright eyes and such a bald head!

A rainbow in the desert of the world.