First Light

Imagine yourself sitting in a comfortable chair, a thick blanket covering your shoulders, your favorite slippers on your feet, cradling a hot cup of tea or coffee in your hands. Beyond the wide window you see a beautiful expanse of crystal clear water framed by mountains. Behind the rocky white-tipped peaks lies the sun.
You wait for it expectantly, knowing that soon it will slowly rise above the clouds and shed first light on the land and water below.
You know it's coming, because each morning the sun rises. It's a given.
Is Jesus your first light?
Do you know without a doubt that no matter what, you're going to see Him today?
I love the comfort of knowing that whatever circumstance I find myself in, whether I'm overjoyed or struggling with hard situations, He is there. He will come and shine His light on me. I just have to ask.
Sometimes I'm ashamed to say I forget to do that.
I moan and groan and wonder where the light is, and of course complain that I can't see anything. And then I'm reminded that I've forgotten to invite Him in. When I do, a warm glow floods through me, and things seem a lot easier to deal with.
I have had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
I've spent many years waiting for first light. Not literally.
If you know me, you're laughing. Yes, it's true, I am not a morning person. Sunrise is not my friend. However, think of it as an analogy.
First light is something you wait for expectantly, knowing it's coming.
The sun always rises, but some days it's hidden behind clouds. Some days it rains and you don't see the sun at all. But you wait for it just the same.
Your first light may be different than mine. We all have our dreams, hopes and desires. Sometimes those dreams take a long time to become reality. Sometimes they don't ever make it beyond your imaginatio. Isn't it wonderful when they do?
In latter years I've made a point of giving those heart desires to God. If it's His will, they will happen. If it's not, they don't.
I trust Him, therefore I have no doubt that the circumstances in my life come from Him.
This week He's given me a huge blessing. I will share more on this later,
but for now, I'm basking in the joy of knowing He is giving me one of my dreams.
He is faithful.
I pray you have a moment to praise and thank Him as you bask in the glow of your first light.

Off To Romania!

On Thursday, Stephen and Chris will travel to Toronto, where they'll meet up with the rest of the group from International Teams Canada, and travel on to Romania on Friday. Here they are with the whopping collection of vitamins the Primary students
at Chris' school brought in!
Please continue to pray for this missions trip - for their safety and for all the wonderful God-ordained times He has in store for them over the next ten days. I'm not sure if I will be able to provide any updates between now and then, but I will if I hear any!
I shall be in Connecticut with my sister, so pray for me too, that I will know my two guys are safe, and in God's hands!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

To Send or Not to Send?

Maybe I'm just coming down with Scroogitis. Yet every year I face the same dilemma. Should I send Christmas cards or not?
Each year I spend a lot of time choosing the cards that will go out from our family. Then I spend hours writing them, and I'll usually compose a family newsletter as an insert. Then comes all the money for the stamps...
And each year I bemoan the fact that I seem to be the only person in the world who still sends out cards.
I grumble about the lack of color in our mailbox and vow not to send any next year to the people who just can't be bothered
to send cards to us!
Bah Humbug!!
So, here I sit, November 16th, and I haven't bought any cards yet. I'm way late. Any I mail to England and Ireland now have
little chance of arriving before Christmas. I can still do all my US cards as I'll be there next week, and the Bermuda ones
can be done when I get home again. However, I must ask myself if I really want to send any this year.
Wouldn't an email be sufficient?
I fear I am becoming as lazy as the rest of my generation seems to be.
I have wonderful childhood memories of the weeks leading up to Christmas. My father would arrive home every evening
with the mail - stacks of colorful envelopes! And I would be allowed to open them all! Oh, what fun it was to see the
beautiful pictures and designs, and to hear news from friends both near and far.
It makes me so sad that this tradition seems to have fallen by the wayside.
Yet Hallmark seems to be surviving quite nicely.
Well, I for one intend to carry on the tradition of sharing the good news of Christ's birth through the sending of Christmas cards. I may be a little late this year, but I'll be sending them!

Merry Christmas! Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving too!

Newsflash!!

I'm thrilled to announce that my hubby has just become a Bermudian!
What? Oh, you thought I was going to tell you I just got a book contract??
Soon, my friends...hahaha...but not today.
Today we received the news that dh's application for Bermudian status has been approved.
This is an enormous relief for several reasons, not the least of which being that he can
now vote in the upcoming election. This in itself is a pleasant, very unexpected, surprise.
Security.
It's a good thing!
Thank you, Lord!

Me...Unplugged.

I feel like crap. I have no idea why. I just do. I feel like I worked myself into the ground since
coming back from Dallas, and have nothing to show for it. I'm tired and I'm tired of feeling tired!
I'm not going to throw a pity party though.
I warned you I was going to be real from now on, so here I am.
Anyway, here's something I posted on my Facebook page a while ago. It really ministered
to me, so I'd like to share it here in hopes it will bless somebody else. The narration is
a bit long, but if you have the time to watch the whole thing, it's worth it.

Thoughts for Thursday...

If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
Rudyard Kipling.

Inspiring, isn't it? As our newpapers begin to fill with stories of politicians and their panderings, I'm almost temtped to leave the island until the General Election on December 18th is over. I'm already tired of hearing about it and listening to all the arguments. Tension is rising. You can feel it in the air.
As always, everything on this island seems, in my opinion, to come down to race. Why can't a man just be a man, good or bad? Why do we have to care about the color of his skin?
It almost makes me ashamed to live here.
In fact, if I had anything to do with it, I would abolish all existing parties and make new ones, all representative of EVERY Bermudian, be they black, white, portugese or purple. God doesn't see color.
Why do we?

One of Those Days...

I love Maxine. She's a real you know what and makes no apology for it. Sad to say, some days I'm a little
more like her than I care to admit.
You know, the days you just shouldn't get out of bed.
Today was one of those days.
I'd forgotten to stop by the church to pick up the dvd for this morning's bible study that meets at my house.
I had to make it to church and back here in rush hour traffic.
We live on a narrow lane. If you encounter another car, you have to back up unitl you get to a driveway to pull into
to let the car pass. This morning, as I was rushing along, here comes this great big truck.
Parallel parking and reversing are two things I never do if they can be avoided.
After I backed up to let the guy pass, he didn't give so much as a wave in my direction to say thank you.
This escalated my temper. I got back on the road and pushed the gas, and lo and behold, along comes another car!
ACK! My poor son witnessed a not so nice display of his mother's temper. Well, maybe it's about time
he learned I'm not perfect.
Anyway, I backed up to let this woman pass and she was waving at me like I was in the driveway she wanted to get in to.
The nerve! Well, she moved and I sped away muttering under my breath. Or perhaps I only wish it was under my breath...
As we got on to the road again, my son said, "Mom, she wanted to talk to you! You should have put your window down."
Sure she did, to yell at me to get out of her way.
Except she didn't look like she was yelling...come to think of it, maybe she was lost and wanted to ask for directions...
UGH.
I've been feeling terrible about this all morning. It's just one of those things that can't be undone.
God forgive my temper and frustration and yes, I'm pond scum...
Do you ever have those moments when far too late you realize you're a total idiot and there's no way to undo the damage you've done? Short of putting a public apology to the woman in the newspaper, I can't go back and be a nice person.
But I can learn my lesson and think before I act. Maybe God's trying to tell me to get in the habit of praying
before I rush out the door and swear a blue streak at anyone who dares get in my way.
A lesson in humility. And patience.
I know God forgives me. I just hope that poor lady will.

The Mystery...

No, the mystery isn't where I have been...although if you're interested, I'll tell you.
I just returned from a week in Canada. We spent time with my daughter and took
her out for real food, although in my opinion university cafeteria fare has improved greatly since
I was there a hundred years ago. It was great to see her settled and happy, and grumbling about
coursework and the like. When we dropped her off at her dorm last night I determined to
do better this time around, as our farewell in September was rather traumatic - for me.
I did do better. I didn't actually cry until I left the building.
But, as my son sternly told my husband, "Moms cry. It's their job."
So I did my job. I'll get over this saying goodbye thing eventually...or not.

The Mystery.
Here goes. I don't mean to rant, but I am extremely puzzled to the point of frustration.
Have you ever been in a place where everything just seems to work and the presence of God
is so near you just want to weep?
We were in such a place last Sunday morning. The church my daughter is attending.
It was a beautiful service. Awesome worship, biblcally sound and - wait for it - enthusiastic teaching...and people responded to the call of God on their lives.
Why?
Why can you sit through worship services as stagnant as pond water when others are filled with the fire of God?
I'll back up to that word - response.
The people around us in the sanctuary last Sunday morning were hungry for God.
Desperate even.
And He does not keep Himself at arms length when we cry out to him - He comes near. He embraces us and tell us
how much He loves us.
How can people NOT want that?
One of the most challenging things for me when I assist with worship is to look out at the congregation.
It's a sad statement. I know I can't judge people by what they look like on the outside, but when there is no
outward response or even the slightest hint of emotion, it's hard to know what's going on on the inside.
I know that's not my job, but I'm burdened by it.
I long to see people respond to God. I want them to know the joy that comes through worshipping HIm in abandon.
I want them to feel His pleasure. I felt it last Sunday, and I'm hungry for more.
I pray for our church at this time, as we turn in new directions. I pray that peoples eyes will be opened to the awesome majesty of God, that they will see Who He is and KNOW that He is all they need.
And I pray they will hunger and thirst for more.
Oh how I pray that a visitor to our church would walk away like I did last week, humbled by the passion of the people for God, awed and excited by His response to them, and eager to share my excitement for Him with anyone who will listen.
Come, Lord Jesus, come.