Promise on the Windowsill

Yesterday my heart was heavy as I kept thinking and praying about a sorrow that had been shared with me.

It was with difficulty I went about my work, helping the children with school and spending hours sorting and filing papers in the office. 

Prayer was difficult as I wondered how to pray specifically. 

In the middle of the papers near the printer I discovered this silouette of a praying cowboy that one of my children had printed off long ago. 

In a sort of sudden inspiration, I trimmed the picture and started to put it inside my Bible cover when I noticed the index card just inside my Bible.

It said,

"Be not afraid.  ONLY BELIEVE."

I pulled the card out and looked at it. I went over to my window, looking out on the chickens peacefully pecking at birdseed below. 

"Jesus,"I said, as I placed the silouette and the promise on the windowsill together.

"Please accept this little token of prayer that I am laying here before You today.

I have to go about my work, but my prayer remains here before You,

asking You to undertake for this need. 

And this, Jesus, is Your very own Word--"Be not afraid. Only believe."

I wondered what to believe--that the miracle I prayed for would be accomplished?

What if it wasn't?

How many times had I asked for something and it hadn't been done?

How many times have people I've known and loved prayed for something and it didn't happen?

Then it dawned on me.

Christ didn't ask us to believe that He could or would do a certain thing,

but to believe in Him. 

Jesus, I do believe in You! You are all-powerful, almighty, all-wise and merciful.

You can do anything!

Is anything too hard for You?  

Three Lucas Brothers' Families Together Over New Years

Jonathan has spent extra time at his parents' home in the last few months as he has supervised repairing roof and siding damages after last summer's hailstorm. His parents also decided to have this lovely stone facade installed along the front of their home.
Jonathan took this picture of them several Sundays ago in the middle of December when our family was at Sunday dinner there with Rob's and Esther's families.

Jonathan's mother decorates so tastefully with pretty pillows and this pretty pencil Christmas tree complete with wooden ornaments handpainted by Jonathan's sister Barbara.

They have various moose ornaments and decorations from Alaska where they have gone different times and where Jonathan's sister Barbara lived several years.

A beautiful yellow orchid with "O Holy Night" in the background.
I enjoy Jonathan's mother's home. It is always cozy and peaceful and tastefully decorated, with just the right amount of decorations for Christmas! They did a super job of downsizing four years ago when they moved to this new place. They got rid of a lot of stuff, but kept enough to make their new home cozy.


Getting together with Jonathan's brother's family was somewhat spur-of-the-moment this time, but I enjoyed the spontaneity. At the last minute, our nephew Bryan was able to come as well as Emily, arriving late Sunday night, while Dave and Ruth arrived in time for Sunday dinner. After a quick time of stopping in and singing for our dear friend Bro. Gafford who is bedfast, we had Sunday dinner together with Jonathan's parents and Dave and Ruth, then made plans for Monday night as well.

Ruth and Dave wanted to go out to eat with us so we could have some one-on-one time together for the purpose of building relationship.
We did that, bringing in pizza for the grands and the cousins who got together to play games Monday night while we parents went out for a couple hours. They had a lot of fun!

Here Ruth is icing the doughnuts Grandma made Tuesday night.

Ruth has been a wonderful and understanding friend to me, and I appreciate her so much--her spontaneity, laughter, understanding, and her desire to not just maintain but build good relationships.  I appreciate so much how she and I can talk at a heart level and not just on the surface.
 Grandpa and ma invited everyone back for Tuesday evening, so we decided that Monday night had been such fun, we'd go for another game night--especially if Jonathan's mom would make whirly donuts--one of her specialties that Jonathan drools over!

Grandma Lucas frying doughnuts for Tuesday night while Carrie stirs chicken soup simmering on the stove.

With a little help from Carrie making the white sauce, I made this potato/carrot/ham/cheese chowder to go along with the doughnuts. Grandma used to make such a delicious sausage stew along with donuts, and I wanted to help her out, but how to make a stew quite as good as Grandma's?. Carrie just wanted to make a brothy vegetable chicken soup for the frigid evening, and I told her she could make her choice of soup, but I wanted to make one crockpot the way the Lucases like it.
Every last bit of that chowder got eaten up, so I guess it was okay!

Carrie's chicken soup was delicious, too! So good and hot on that frigid night!

On the way there, Jonathan was starving and said he could eat SIX donuts!
I said that he had to eat his vegetables first!
Soooo--you can see the broccoli placed dutifully on top of the donut!

After supper, the youngsters played at the dining room table and some of the rest of us gathered around this folding table to play Bible Apples to Apples. Rob and Julie helped Cassie play across from me, and Dave and Ruth and Jonathan's dad played, too.
We had a gale of fun!
I love how Ruth is so fun, and we appreciated so much how their kids played games with ours.

Dutch Blitz at the youngsters' table--arms criss-crossing and hands slapping cards down. You need a video to watch the action on this one!

Clapping when the game was done.

I don't want to bug people taking too many pictures, but these I took to share on my blog.  

She Intended to Finish the Race--One Slow, Painful Step at a Time

"Sometimes the greatest act of faith is faithfulness, staying where you're planted." Craig Groeschel

And sometimes it is about running the race--

even if you are lame,

even if you know you will never be in first place--

or second place,

or even third place.

Even when you know you will come in last,

somewhere down at the bottom of the totem pole,

and the end of the pecking order.

Yesterday my mother shared on email a challenging story she heard in church from a man named Jason. When he was 18, he experienced his first tragedy; his girlfriend's mother was killed in a vehicle accident.  That's when he learned that bad things happen to everyone, not just others.  Some years later his mother died, then his father soon after.  Those hit Jason very hard, and he found himself doubting, even rebelling against God. Shaking his fist at the ceiling and God, he cried out, "Why do you hate me so much, God, that you've done this to such wonderful people in my life?"  His life began to take a downward spiral. 

Then one day he was at a friend's house. The friend's son was a metal worker, and Jason was intrigued with the beautiful piece of work that the son had made from twisted metal. As he gazed at it, it occurred to him that in order to create that masterpiece of twisted metal,
it had to be heated,
 beat on, and twisted to do what the worker wanted it to do.

As he began to think seriously about these things in relation to his life,

one day he was helping at a Special Olympics event where he worked.  

His job was to stand at the finish line and place the medal around the neck of those who finished the races.  On the last race, he saw a woman wheel her daughter onto the track to do the race; she helped the girl (age 12 or so) out of the wheelchair.  At the gunshot the others began for the finish line. 

But this girl could only take one step at a time, 

step, pause, step, pause.  

All the other contestants finished the race and received their medals.

  But there was that girl, way back there. 

When her mother pushed the wheelchair out to get her daughter, the girl refused, saying that she started this race, and she intended to finish it. 

 Jason watched with growing emotion

as this girl, 

painfully,

 slowly 

kept taking one step at a time, finally approaching the finish line.  

Young man that he was, Jason bawled along with her as he placed the medal around her neck.  

In those moments, he began to realize that what he needed to do was 

simply to go one step at a time

 until the finish.
Tragedies had happened, his heart walked with a limp, but he must keep plodding.

It is the beginning of a new year.

Some of us have experienced tragedies or difficulties of various kinds.

Some of us walk with a firm step,

and others of us limp,

while still others must run the race in a wheel chair of sorts--

needing help from others just to keep going.

Some of us, still growing and learning and eating the others' dust, 

limp while they cross the finish line for the blue ribbon.

We limp while others win the medals.  

We limp while others are cheered and slapped on the back and carried on shoulders and paraded around.

Limp on, my friend with slow and painful step. .

Limp on.

After the darkest hour comes the dawn.

Sunrise Over the Prairie Hill

"Under all conditions, stay thy heart only on the Lord." Charles Spurgeon

Learning to Surf over the Waves this New Year

The other day as I was doing some after-Christmas shopping in Hobby Lobby, I noticed this surfboard plaque.

"You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf."

 Out here on the prairie we don't have oceans, waves, or tides.

This little pond frozen over for skating is the closest we come to surfing!

I took that picture of the surfboard because I thought how appropriate a thought it was.

We can't stop the waves crashing into our lives at high tide, but we can let them drown us--

or we can learn to surf.

Surfing is a skill, and skills take time and effort to learn.

You don't just go surfing one day and go gliding effortlessly over the crests of every wave!

I expect that you would end up upside down a few times! 

I am sitting up late tonight as I hear firecrackers booming in the distance--welcoming in the New Year.

None of us knows what this year will hold--and mercifully the Lord keeps the curtain drawn.

We don't know how many or how powerful the waves will be. 

But there is a surfboard that we can ride,

and the name on that surfboard is 

Promise.

God has so many promises!

Today the children and I decided to try to learn at least one promise in Scripture for each letter of the alphabet this New Year.

By faith in His promises, we can surf the waves that are sure to come!

Frankincense--the Tears of Christmas

Yesterday as I was researching uses for frankincense essential oil, thinking of someone who is struggling with severe physical issues, I learned that frankincense is a resin – "hardened sap from trees. In both cases, [both frankincense and myrrh] trees are slashed and allowed to 'bleed.' The sap that comes from the trees hardens and forms beads or 'tears.'" Then these are used to produce oils and products that are so potent in healing.

https://www.diynatural.com/frankincense-and-myrrh/

Without the Boswellian tree being slashed, without the sap dripping down and forming tears,

 there would have been no frankincense as a gift from the wise men for the Christ child,

and there would be no healing oils for our illnesses, pain, and brokenness.

I was feeling low this evening, just some personal heartaches that won't stop aching, and I thought of the frankincense.

Sometimes God allows our hearts to be slashed, 

plans and ambitions to be upset,

our comfort zones and little boxes torn to pieces,

before we can become useful as any kind of healing agent in the lives of other people. 

The frankincense used to be just sap flowing comfortably along inside the tree,

and often we sit in our comfort zones at home, at school, at church,

and we think we are alive and well and doing fine and helping others all we can.

But it isn't till the tree is slashed, and we are ripped out of the four walls of our comfort zones

 that we find ourselves not just looking for ways to minister,

in ways that are out of the box, because, bluntly put, we are no longer inside the box,

but in fact unboxed ways to minister are coming to us.

We are broken and slashed and in tears, but opportunities come to us, even if it is only one moment or one hour or one day at a time.

Someone without a family finds family for Christmas.

Someone without hope finds hope.

Someone who never darkens the door of a church sits around the table in a Christian home where the father of the house talks to Jesus before the meal. 

Someone in a dark tunnel finds a ray of light.  

Frankincense--the tears of Christmas.

Christmas Joys--Unto the Least of These My Brethren

 Christmas morning we all scurried about in a great flurry, getting breakfast on and then cleaning up the house and preparing food for thirteen people!
Plus, there were still gift baskets to arrange for Jonathan's parents and the company we were having--a girl who had recently met and written to our girls, wanting to get together and make friends, and her grandmother.
They helped us arrange the gift basket for Grandma and pa.

 I had thought of a Beary Merry Christmas theme, with honey and jellies and a little bear, but Jonathan tweeked it just a bit to be
a Berry Merry Christmas themed basket--with lots of berry things!
I looked online for ideas and got some ideas from some Blueberry Shop online.
So since Carrie was already going to town yesterday, I gave her a list and asked her to get a bunch of things for the basket.
She came up with some of her own ideas, too, so between Jonathan, Carrie and me, the basket contained  Dove Chocolate Blueberries, Blueberry Muffin mix, pancake mix, blueberry pie filling, strawberry pie filling, three kinds of berry preserves, three berry jellos, dried cranberries, dried blueberries, Carrie's homemade blueberry and strawberry chapstick, and probably another thing or two that I forgot.
Carrie's touch and ideas from our company friends made it so cute, with gingham jar toppers tied off with country twine, peppermint candy canes, a few sprigs of  evergreen and a big blue bow.


Grandma and Grandpa arrived with the Christmas ham and Christmas cookies.

Carrie mashed the potatoes. Hers are the best!

Several people helped set the table.
We did without fancy paper plates this year--just the same old plates that need washed!
But--we have plates and so much more!
Crystal contributed one of her candles that matched ours and we lit them.

We'd made the broccoli salad the night before.
Grandma had brought little candies.

Rose and Jasmine pulling fresh rolls from the pan.

Before eating, we sang the chorus, "Emmanuel."
"God with us, revealed in us. His name is called Emmanuel."
Jonathan prayed the Christmas blessing and then we all fell to eating!

After dinner, while some of the girls and ladies were doing dishes, I was back in my room finishing a gift basket for Jasmine's grandmother, and Crystal was playing Christmas arrangements on the piano.

There were gifts for everyone. I read a poem called "Bunkhouse Christmas," about cowboys who only had a tumbleweed to decorate, but found spurs and cut tin stars from piepans, and finished it off with a white cowboy hat.
And though perfection wasn't the aim, the poet said,
"Perfection's what we got!"
Jonathan read a Christmas story about a single mom who prayed for a Christmas tree, and God sent an enormous tumbleweed to their door--which she promptly transformed into a Christmas tree!

I guess it was Tumbleweed Christmas that day out on our prairie!

 And though perfection wasn't our aim,  as the poem said, 

perfection was what we got--if you define perfection as having a very beautiful, fulfilling day despite all its imperfections!

Our company was quite relieved that we included them in helping with meal preparations and that we didn't mind them seeing our less-than-perfect bedrooms with Christmas messes hiding there, (and even a pile of dirty laundry on my bed since I hadn't gotten it quite into the washer yet). They helped carry Christmas wrappings, etc. back there, and were visibly relieved that the Lucas house wasn't anything to be intimidated by.

I notice that often new friends arrive a bit nervous, but when they see our imperfections that we simply accept and acknowledge, they become at ease. Suddenly they have found a home where they can feel at home.

They see that some other people actually live in their homes, too, rather than showcase them, and it makes them feel at home!

Our girls had arranged this lovely gift basket for Jasmine, with yarns and candle and lotion and mug and homemade chapstick and a couple other things I can't remember.

The girls made this fruit pizza for dessert.

Hannah had made two of these horseshoe ornaments for Crystal.

 The children skating as the sun sets over Pikes Peak in the distance!

 It was bitter cold, but they weren't about to let the cold keep them from having fun!

 After supper of leftovers, the children played Dutch Blitz while we ladies snipped and froze most of a bushel of green beans which Carrie had found for just 77 cents a pound.
Sounds like July at Christmas!

 Finally before sending our company on their way, the girls got out their mandolin and violin and guitar, and played Christmas carols around the piano. I was impressed with how well Jasmine did, after having violin lessons for only 5 months.

Not everything was on tune, but we had fun!

I had prayed that this Christmas
the Christ Child--no longer a humble Child but a Coming King--
would be pleased with our celebrations, 
as we sought to do for "one of the least of these" as unto Him. 

Dear Christ, we simply opened our home to someone who needed a friend this Christmas,
and somehow, we believe that the Light of Your presence was very real.
Star of every night sky,
shine upon every lonely and hurting heart, and lead them to their perfect Home in God's Heart!