Many of us today are “hunkered down” in our warm homes, staying in to be safe from “old man winter’s” words that God is still in control of all things, including weather. While we sip hot chocolate, sitting by the fire, life “half a world away” is struggling.

I’m on the e-mail list of seveal of my church’s departments including missions and music.  I know Facebook has posts about today’s events, but these are not people in some far away land; they are just like us. They awakened today to dress and get ready for their day. If parents with children at home, they prepared breakfast and perhaps kissed and hugged their children good-bye as they departed for school. Mom and/or Dad prepared to leave their homes for jobs. Mom may have remained home to complete the days’ chores before her family returned.

Now their lives are shattered. They are living in a war torn community, Kyiv Ukraine. I read the words and viewed the photographs from those in Christian organizations in Ukraine and immediately ceased my day to pray.  When many in our country have disasters or emergencies, there are friends and family members standing with open arms and homes to aid them in their tragedies. If an entire country is being attacked, the “helping hands” are more limited.

We may donate money or goods to assist those in need, but then as we close our checkbooks or place our credit card back into our wallets, we believe we did our part. Yes, we did something, but perhaps we could do more. We may think, those people we just donated funds to are “not like us.” They are “just people” that live elsewhere.

They are like us. They are young, old, rich and poor individauls and families. None of us chose where we were born or who our parents are. We may have been reared with nothing, very little or much. Even our poorest in this country may appear wealthy to those in countries such as Ukraine.

Did I feel guilty as I observed the pictures and e-mails from the missionaries and staff working in organizations in Ukraine trying to help these people? Yes, I did! Not only did I feel guilty, for my petty whining over trivial issues in my life, I stopped and prayed. My small donations to these missionaries and Christian organizations may not make much of a difference, but my prayers can.

You may walk around in your beautiful home or drive off in your lovely car, but please just stop and think about those today that not only don’t have these blessings, but they didn’t ask to be where they are. They were as innocent as each of us would be if our entire country was being attacked. The families which awakened in Kyiv today didn’t know their family might be  killed or injured or their homes destroyed. Sometimes our prayers are the greatest gifts we can give to others. KJV, I Timothy 2:1 “I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men.”

It’s a table-no, it’s a sofa. It definitely is a laundry counter or just a place to “throw objects” which we don’t know what to do with, except at night when we use it for its’ intended purpose; a bed. I know each of you reading this has at one time in your life used your bed as a multi-purpose object.  Yet how often do we stop and thank God for something which is such a stationery element in our home?

When I was living out of the “back end of my car” for four months last year while awaiting God’s timing for me to obtain a house, the bed in my hotel room and air b/b’s became all of the above on several occasions. While watching a documentary recently, I began laughing aloud. The narrator noted his bed became his office and his desk during covid. Wow! Ingenious, sensible or unconventional?

 Whatever the reason, I found it amusing. The narrator proceeded to say, it was just more comfortable and because he was home alone working on his computer, why not just “snuggle in bed and be relaxed?”

For well over five decades, I’ve loved coming in from work, church or running errands and quickly “getting comfy”, which means putting on pajama pants or exercise tights. So perhaps for some, being in  “comfy office attire” might also mean just remaining in bed.

I love my bed and am grateful for it. I don’t take it for granted for I know millions of people around the world, don’t have a soft, warm and comfortable bed. As a child I always had to share a bed with my sister. Not only was the bed crowded, but our bed was void of a nice mattress and sheets. Most of our sheets were thread bare and often ragged. Frequently, either my foot or my sister’s would catch an average sized hole in the sheet which upon awakening had torn the sheet into shreds. Soft and untattered sheets were luxuries our home didn’t possess.  Likewise, a clean, solid mattress was something we had never witnessed, nor felt beneath us.

Several years ago, when purchasing a new mattress, I inquired about the box springs. The salesman tried not to mock me as he stated these were no longer the trend. He informed me mattresses now rest atop a platform. Oh, but the sales pitch was strong about the pros of such a fad. Our heads, feet and legs could be elevated allowing a more comfortable sleep. So I was now the owner of one more remote control!

 Last week when I was too ill to even leave my bed, the warmth and comfort of it was my “hug from God” that even though alone, He was right there with me. When we have to change the sheets or make the bed, it’s not a chore, but a gift. Whether a table, a sofa or perhaps even a desk, at night it is my “my resting place with the Lord.” James 1:17 NIV “Every good and perfect gift is from above…”

As I opened the Facebook page to wish my friend, Jenny, happy birthday, her cover photo was perplexing. I realized something had happened. I immediately researched and yes, there was a death in her family. My heart pounded as my mind raced. If only I had remained friends with her as I had so earnestly desired, I would have known of her loss and heaven’s gain.

I became tearful as I recalled the countless “friend chats” we had in those earlier years. We had times of both laughter and tears, while in our thirties we dealt with the typical challenges of “family life”; marital conflicts, praying for children and then the rearing of children, losing jobs and obtaining others, building new homes and lastly moving from a home and area that I loved.

How often had we sat in one another’s homes, hand in hand praying during these trials? Jenny had been my closest friend during those difficult years. She had come to my rescue when I found myself alone, living in an apartment and not having even $5.00 to purchase groceries. There she was for me; offering a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and an open heart and hand with food for a barren pantry.

She and I connected from the very first time we met in our church Sunday School class.   As earnestly as I had tried to sustain the friendship, when I moved from the area, her friendship also relocated. Upon my return, several years later, all my efforts to rekindle the friendship were invalidated.

 As I reviewed the memorial video of her loved one, my heart was so heavy, I could hardly breathe. How I wish I could have been there at her side when she kissed her beloved good-bye as he walked hand in hand with the Lord. He was one of the kindest men I had known. He always had a smile and encouraging word. Now his chair would be empty for her birthday celebration and I was saddened for her.

This was one of dozens of situations which have occurred in the past five decades that I could have screamed “God this is wrong. Why was my then husband allowed to take me away from my family, my home, church, community and all my friends?” Each time we moved to and from cities, dwelling in over twenty residences, I lamented the moves.

 Whether it is during a storm or in the “sonlight”, God is there. I thanked Him that He gave me the friendship of Jenny. Although it didn’t endure, it was a gift at the time of my life when I needed Jenny.  I now quietly desired I had known of her loss, but God gave me the memories of Jenny and her beloved, which are indelible.  NKJ Proverbs 27:17, “As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend.”

Happy New Year Dear Readers. I trust the first day of a new year finds your heart and life filled with more blessings than sorrow. For I also know that each one of us has experienced both. Some of us have had greater sorrow and/or blessings than others, but if you are reading this, you are blessed.

In one of my blogs, I apologized for sharing and had removed that blog. Then I had many of you urging me to “keep on” for sharing one’s heart and life causes others to understand each of us is “human.” We laugh and cry. We shed tears of both joy and happiness, but we are the “one” God created us to be.

Thus, this brings me to this day; January 1, 2022. Another calendar is history and a new one begins. I’m weary of hearing people say “this year will be your year.” My year for what? Every year that God gives us is “our year.” This was “my year” in some ways, but in many other ways, it was not my year.

The saga of my life’s journey which began over ten years ago has impacted every day, week and month of my life. So like many of you reading this, I had many difficult and challenging times this past year. However, many of you prayed with and for me during those long, five years that I tried to sell my home in Oklahoma. I don’t know today nor while it was happening why God “dragged” it on so long. Yet He did and I had to accept it.

My Oklahoma home sold in January and closed in March. I had an extremely difficult move from that house to this one, but God was right there with me.  Also, how could I possibly reflect on the year without the dozen houses I bid on and lost?  I left a depressed real estate market in Oklahoma to come to a greatly inflated and “hot” real estate market in Texas.

As I spent four full months living in and out of hotels and an Air B/B, my prayers were fast and furious. My two small suitcases contained my full wardrobe during those four months, as all my earthly possessions were jammed into storage units. I continued to ask God “when?”

My prayers never ceased for I knew God had “His” house for me. Finally, in July, I moved into an older home which needed much love and attention. I realized then my prayers to locate a home paled in comparison to the prayers to repair and/or renovate this house.

It is a work in progress, but God is good. We sing the chorus “God is good all the time. All the time God is good.” As we close out this year, at times that is difficult to grasp. Yet God is not only good, He’s wonderful. I now stand on the first step of the first day-of the first month- of a new year. I proudly proclaim. Here I am God-use me for whatever you desire of me for this year.

We will all be facing something in 2022. We may not know what it is today, but what a joy to know that God will be right there with us, no matter what awaits us. Psalm 25:8 NIV,  “Good and upright is the Lord…”

 

The last day of school before adjourning for the Christmas holidays was always a time of both joy and sadness for our family of five. As a poor family, we didn’t have money for a Christmas tree or gifts. Other families concerned themselves with holiday baking, decorating and gift buying. Many of our school mates and neighbors would be traveling near and far to visit family, while our journey was in our home.

Even though our holiday was simple and barren, we always found pleasure in the spirit of the season. For a couple years, our dad, a part-time janitor for the local school system searched the dumpsters for a discarded tree; left behind by a teacher and students departing for the holidays. On one particular Christmas when Dad arrived home with our “re-cycled” tree, it was perfect. Dad had searched for the tallest tree, but this one was special. It was laden with glistening tinsel.

For several years, our traditional Christmas holidays included a trip to local roadside trees for a “mistletoe hunt.” Dad loaded us three children into the car, ladder in tow and off we went. When locating the tree with the most mistletoe, Dad retrieved the ladder from the car. Ascending the ladder rung by rung, each of us giggled with glee. This fresh mistletoe would be the finishing touch to our holiday décor. There were no bright lights in our windows, glowing candles atop our tables or joyous carols playing in our house, but we had a tree and mistletoe, brimming with love.

It was my task as the eldest child to bake our Christmas cookies. Because our pantry consisted primarily of government commodities; creativity was paramount. I didn’t have fancy-colored nonpareils to make the cookies glisten or chocolate morsels and nuts to create chewy and delectable candies.  However, because our family lived humbly, we cherished the smallest blessings of life; including recycled trees, freshly harvested mistletoe and plain homemade sugar cookies.

With the house decorated and the cookies baked, we lacked only one Christmas tradition; the annual play. As the eldest, I commandeered my younger siblings to present this as our gift to our parents for as long as they would tolerate the annual reenactment of the greatest gift. We would drape ourselves in tattered bathrobes and towels, using our frayed wicker laundry basket as the manger. My favorite doll was baby Jesus, while the three of us children portrayed Joseph, Mary and one “lone” shepherd. Because we had no friends or family to share in the joys of Christmas, this time of recalling the birth of our Lord brought special meaning to our family of five.

The memory and reminiscence of previous holidays is a treasure I cherish. Whether alone, as many of my Christmases are or with friends, there is warmth and gratitude for the most beautiful gift ever given.

NIV John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

How often have you heard, it’s just a day? But is it really? Is it merely twenty-four hours on your calendar of days, weeks and months of the year?

For most of us that is indeed true. Yet, how often have we had those days that impact us for the remainder of our lives? When we were children those “big days” were monumental; birthdays, holidays and perhaps even family vacations, but then we became adults and those days were fewer.

Most of you reading this blog today, recall those days which became historical; assassination of our President, bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City, 911 and countless natural disasters.  The list of days which impact us forever is lengthy. However, whereas some of those have made our lives more inconvenient due to all the new polices and regulations as a result of the actions of others, they may not directly affect us, nor change the person we are.

What about those days in our lives that changed us forever? Do you recall the day you had your first kiss? That was a normal moment in time for the world, but for you, it caused you to realize you were now on the threshold of becoming an adult. Your parents and grandparents kissed your innocent little faces when you were children. You might even have had a kiss on the cheek from a fellow classmate as a younger child, but oh the memories of that first “real” kiss!

Now you were dating and in time would find that “one” to spend the remainder of your life with.   Do you recall the day you were asked to become someone’s mate? Marriage was never “just a day. It changed you for the remainder of your life. You were a spouse and as God planned, two became “one.”

 Death or divorce may have ended that marital union, but it could never erase that day. You were eternally linked to that person. It became a part of the person you are today, whether a few months or many years you were a husband or a wife.

For those reading this whom are parents, that day is indelible on your hearts and lives. The joy when your children became one of your family will never be “just a day.” Whether those children remained in your lives can’t alter you were their parent. Becoming a parent is permanent. It isn’t “just a day.”

What about those days you aren’t experiencing some of these colossal occurrences? Is it “just a day?” You can make each day a memorable one, even if they don’t permanently change the person you are. You can sincerely make each day more than just passing hours.

Share your smile everywhere you go. We’ve all heard that we don’t know what others are enduring. Your smile may be their only ray of “sonshine” for that day. Offer a helping hand wherever you can. It can be as small as picking up litter which has blown into a neighbor’s yard. It makes your day special when you opt to make your hours more than “just a day.” NIV Romans 14:6 “whoever regards one day as special does so to Lord…”

As our pastor spoke of finishing well I wondered how often we are akin to Paul, the focus of Pastor Chuck’s sermon. Paul was not always faithful to God. Paul criticized God and mocked Him. But then! He came to know God and was a faithful and loyal teacher of His words and life. As Pastor Chuck shared of Paul’s final days of life, Paul was concerned about his friends, not himself. As Paul walked to his death, alone and naked preparing to be beheaded, he had no regrets. God was walking with him.  Paul was “finishing well.”

Did we stumble and fall along the way? Whether our finish is with a family, marriage, career or any interest we may have, did we finish well? Did we give our best efforts to the conclusion? Were we concerned about those we might have offended or emotionally hurt?  I was recently visiting with a friend that shared how anger and hatred had been removed from previous relationships; that the “hatchet” was buried and forgiveness was paramount. Hurt feelings had been put aside so they could enjoy one another, making memories and “finishing well.”

Has a friend or family sought your forgiveness, but you not only refused their request, you don’t even have the courtesy to acknowledge them? Were you terminated from a career position and you have remained bitter and angry? Did you enter a sports competition or race and were not the victor, but  you carry a grudge against those that won?  You were unable to “finish well.”

Finishing well doesn’t mean winning. It doesn’t always mean we receive our desired outcome. How did we accept the conclusion? Can we smile when our hearts are breaking? Can we be kind to others that treated us rudely? Can we be courteous to the colleague that was promoted when we believed it should have been us?

I wasn’t always so accepting of God’s plans for my life. I was jealous and envious of others that seemed to “have it all” while I struggled with the basic needs of life. As a teen, I often wondered why my classmates had parents that supported, cherished and accepted them. Yet, I had parents who more readily criticized than accepted.

When I graduated from high school and entered college, I envied those that didn’t have to work multiple jobs to pay for their college expenses. As a new bride, I wondered why I didn’t a husband that spent time with me, loved me and gave the attention as my friends had from their husbands.  If I had grasped those early jealousies, I would never have been able to come to the latter chapter of my life, preparing to “finish well.”

Life has been arduous and brought many unexpected elements, but like Paul, I have no regrets I’ve followed God and trusted His ways. NKJ, 2 Timothy 4:7,” I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”