I noticed a For Sale sign in a yard yesterday. Written at the bottom of the sign in bold red letters were the words TOO LATE. I remarked to Jerry that life is full of those signs. I think we all experience them.
I noticed a For Sale sign in a yard yesterday. Written at the bottom of the sign in bold red letters were the words TOO LATE. I remarked to Jerry that life is full of those signs. I think we all experience them.
My water aerobics buddy shared a family tradition with me. She has allowed me to share this clever idea with you.
As a teenager, we used to yell a cheer at sporting events, “Action, action, we want action! A-C-T (clap,clap,clap) I-O-N!”
I cannot even begin to guess how many times I have read this scripture. “But what about you?” he asked, “Who do you say I am?” This time, however, when I read it something hit me like a ton of bricks. Something that made it much more real.
I promised myself that I would not get on social media in the morning before I had opened my Bible and read it. One morning though as I struggled to get out of bed I grabbed my phone to answer a text message instead of grabbing my Bible.
Judith Viorst wrote a poem called, The Good Daughter. It describes a daughter who follows rules and does her chores. On the other hand, her pesky brother rarely does and usually involves himself in some kind of shenanigan. In the end the sister declares that she really believes her parents always liked her brother better.
How many times have I fallen for the “buy one get one free” sales gimmick? I love getting something for “free.”
I enjoy going shopping with my oldest daughter. She has a fun sense of style, and she encourages me to bring color into my wardrobe which gives me a “new look.” Without her encouragement, and sometimes honesty, my closet would be a color range of grays and blacks.
I love this part of Paul’s letter that he wrote to the Colossian church. It reminds me what we as believers are capable of with the help of the Holy Spirit. We have the power to gain knowledge and understanding of God’s word so that we can share it with others. We are instruments used by God to speak His truth and show His love regardless where He sends us.
The nation Israel had turned their heart against God and was suffering the consequences. The Midianites had been ruling over Israel’s land for seven years. They would camp out, wait, and destroy crops and livestock that Israel worked so hard to produce. The Israelites so feared the Midianites that they would try and find shelter in mountain clefts, caves, and strong structures. The Midianites made living conditions so unbearable that Israel cried out to the Lord for help.
My Dad loves watching NASCAR racing. The competition between the mighty roaring engines of speed gets him all excited. He enjoys the anticipation of watching the cars race hundreds of laps, going at top speeds up to two hundred miles per hour, and fighting to gain the ultimate victory.
My girls love to eat blueberries. Once we get our delicious batch of this fruit we are to wash and look through them to pick out all the shriveled up blueberries. Sometimes there are bad blueberries mixed in with the good ones. The bad blueberries get tossed and the juicy and plump ones get to be enjoyed as a wonderful snack or dessert for the whole family to share.
I have a pair of my mother’s scissor. Years ago she wrote on them in permanent pen “new.” What was true the day she wrote that word is no longer true. The scissors are old and dull. Some things that are true today may not be true tomorrow. But where can you and I find truth that will stand the test of time? What truth can you build your life upon that will never crumble beneath you?
My friend has an interesting testimony of how she became a believer in Jesus. No one in her family was a Christian. A man began coming to their home once a week and reading his Bible to the family. He did nothing more than read, but the power of God’s Word transformed every person in that family. One by one they came to believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
I heard the child ask his mother the same question five times, but the mother, who was looking at her cell phone, never answered. She wasn’t listening. I can’t point a finger. When my girls were young, I let many distractions keep me from listening to them. I can still be easily distracted when listening.
Do you know someone who doesn’t know how to listen? I became acquainted with a kind man who worked at a grocery store I frequented. Every time he saw me, he would stop what he was doing and head my way. For the next ten minutes (at least) he would tell me all about what he had been doing, about his family, or about anything that came to mind. He loved to talk, but he didn’t know how to listen. I once told my husband, “I know a lot about that man, but he knows nothing about me.”
As I write this, it is still August and still hot. However, in the little garden by my front porch something interesting has happened. The day lilies, whose spent foliage stood like brittle, brown sentinels during the hottest part of the summer, are sending up new green leaves. On more than one occasion, I was sorely tempted to pull up my little garden eyesores and be done with it. Only one thing stopped me: those husks could be providing shade and protection for tender life beneath the soil.
During a recent lunch conversation, a friend and I got on the topic of “significant” birthdays. The particular number under discussion was one looming on her horizon, but solidly in my rearview mirror, making me the expert on the subject.
If you ask young children to name the seasons, some might answer, “Christmas, Easter, July 4th and Halloween.” Following that train of thought, the sign of each new season would be the bursting forth of appropriate merchandise on the shelves of local retailers. Ah, sad, but true…