Being Seen Through

Oh, God today I came before your throne...
Help my heart to have a clear and open entrance, uncluttered by the cares of life.
That I can reach your robe and touched it and be renewed by thy healing touch.

Oh, God today I saw more clearly what it was in my heart that you saw.
Help me not to willingly deceive myself into thinking you did not see my flaws.

Oh, God today please look down upon your maiden
And with mercy and grace help me.
For without your face turned toward me
I will die helplessly.

Oh, God today...forgive me
Oh, God today... redeem me
Oh, God today... sustain me
Oh, God today...today... I need thee.

Spring Cleaning Challenge (Update #2)

Spring Cleaning is underway here though you can't tell too much since I'm following such a global order. It seems for me it works best here and keeps me motivated. There's nothing like the feeling that all the windows are done, not just 2 or 3. Besides, since there are so many of us, when I'm done completely with one room and move to the other, the one I finished doesn't last much to give me the same gratification. Globally works for me.

We did get all our windows done, except for the french door windows in my room. (My room is always last it seems.) I also finished up all the fans except in my room.
The curtains are getting washed and some I'm moving around.
I have 4 blinds to speak of, and 2 are goners.
I came to the realization about 2 years ago that blinds are not for me.
I don't like cleaning them and curtains or cloth shades work beautifully.
Look at those windows shine! I drove up today and noticed the glimmer.

♥ I have a handy tip for anyone wanting to clean those nice little crevices in a fan. Use a Q-tip. They work really well.

Here's my plans for this coming week-
(Please understand, I'm far from tidy and neat. I lost the persistance about 3 kids ago. Things here get cleaned as needed, and when I can get to it. Sometimes it is impressive and sometimes it's depressive.)

So here's my to do list:

1. Clean refrigerator.


2. Clean and organize the big upright freezer.


3. Children-clean baseboards throughout the house


4. Children-wipe down outside of doors, hutches, and door frames.


5. Dust top of fridge, freezer, hutches, and doorframes.


6. Dust edge of ceilings for cobwebs.

The thought of getting these things done before the baby gets here is so pleasant that it has kept me on track. There's nothing like knowing that these things are not on my plate when I'm serving everyone elses and the baby calls.

Here's a nice poem that I found in The Best of Barbara Johnson's book:

Good Housekeeping

Lord, it is not the dirt and clutter in plain sight that nag at me.
It's the hidden dirt...you know, behind the refrigerator, in the closets, under the bed.
Dirt that no one sees or knows about but me.
It's the same way with my life, God.
It's those hidden sins that I can't keep up with...those petty little grievances, the grudges, the resentments, the unspoken harsh feelings, and the superior attitutes.
Thoughts and feelings that no one else knows about but me...and You, God.
Help me, Father, to clean my heart as I would my home.
Take away all the dust and cobwebs of pride, ill feelings, and prejudice.
The dirt behind the refrigerator will never hurt anyone.
The dirt in my heart will.

-Source Unknown

A Big Thought on Music and Prose

Here's a little bit of something to chew on....

"Lord, what music hast thou provided for thy saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth....."

~Walton

The Sounds of Music

I live in a world full of sounds of music to my ears.
The melodies come quickly releasing feelings I can hear.
It is the sound that keeps me thinking,
The melodious waves that capture more than just a tune.
It is as if my brain is drawn upon the moving words.
As if my heart can hear beyond its orchestrated chords.

I see it now, reflected more within my offspring
For she hears it too.
The echoes float within her,
And desperately escape her soul.
Perhaps, if harnessed better,
Hers will produce a wonderful work.
One that will glorify God and cause Him to say,
“It is good.”


This is dedicated to my first daughter.

With Love,

My Brother's Keeper

I remember church services where this song was sung as a new Christian. My heart would cry out to God for strength to follow Him.

Somebody Prayed For Me

I have no affiliation with the church in this video, but it did bring tears to my eyes to hear it once again.

Here's another poem straight from my heart.

My Brother's Keeper

I remember the day Jesus found me
And how that He cleansed me from sin.
I remember that somebody prayed for me,
They sacrificed their time,
They got down on their knees and prayed for me.......

And so God was faithful and brought me out,
Out of the deep miry clay.
Put a love in my heart for the things that He loves,
And I was made my brother's keeper.

For when I cry, He feels my pain.
When I hurt, He knows how it feels.
He bore so much upon the tree,
to see me be my brother's keeper.

Shall I be a stumbling block or two?
Should I not have the character of Uriah*?
Shall I sin the sin of Balaam**
And cause someone to fall,
For something that will only last a lifetime?

Epistles read of men,
That's what we are today.
Good or bad, Cain knew that
He was his brother's keeper.

I wrote this poem, and cannot express my heart completely. Hope it will somehow bless your heart, and remind you of the love we are to have for those within the body of Christ.

* You can read about Uriah in 2 Samuel 11
** You can find references and read about the sin of Balaam in 2 Peter2:15; Num. 31:15-16; 22:5; 23:8; Jude v. 11; James 4:4

And finally, I Cor. 8:11-13. The whole chapter, though small, is worthy of your attention. So if you get a chance take a look at Paul's concern for the brethren.

Sincerely,
Linda

The Hiding Place

Tonight we had dinner while we listened to Focus on the Family's Radio Theater The Hiding Place. This audio was based on the true story of Corrie TenBoom. I read the book when I was about 19 yrs. old. As I listened to the plot unfold and Gemany take over Holland, Corrie's words rang through my mind.
"I lied Papa. It was intentional, not just a mistake, and what bothers me so much is that it was so easy for me to do."
The story makes it obvious that she was not a liar. My mind went back to when I was 19 and thought about her predicaments. Would I have lied to the Nazis?

How easy is it to be dishonest with others if one is dishonest at all? A person might find fault with Corrie TenBoom, but to read the book and see if you're not touched by her testimony, her character and tenderness of heart would be a better option. Perhaps she was being put through the fire and made to burn off all the impurities.
I have a poem (it could be a song) I copied on the inside cover of my Bible, it seems now a long time ago, written by Amie Johnson Flint.
It goes like this:

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater.
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase.
To added affliction, He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
And our strength hath failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
The Father's full giving is only begun.
His love has no limit, His grace has no measure.
His power has no boundary known unto men.
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth and giveth and giveth again.

God alone knows our heart. I guess Corrie's words stuck with me because I'm drawn by her innocense and her concern that she so easily out of fear lied. When we can easily deceive or flat out lie or sin, and not be bothered-the question to ask is why? Why is it not bothering me? Is my heart in such a state that it will not cry out to God? Will it not cry out to the Saviour, to heal me, to cleanse me, to help me? To rescue me from me?

Maybe it is time for me to check from the library Corrie TenBoom's book The Hiding Place. It's been so long since I read it that I need to be reminded again.

Discontent

Down in a field, one day in June,

The flowers all bloomed together

Save one, who tried to hide herself,

And drooped that pleasant weather.

A robin, who had flown too high,

And fet a little lazy,

Was resting near this buttercup

Who wished she were a daisy.

For daisies grow so trig and tall!

She always had a passion

For wearing frills around her neck,

In just the daisies' fashion.

And buttercups must always be

The same old tiresome color,

While daisies dress in gold and white,

Although their gold is duller.

"Dear robin," said this sad young flower,

"Perhaps you'd not mind trying

To find a nice white frill for me

Some day, when you are flying?"

"You silly thing!" the robin said,

"I think you must be crazy.

I'd rather be my honest self

Than any made-up daisy."

"You're nicer in your own bright gown;

The little children love you;

Be the best buttercup you can,

And think no flower above you."

"Though swallows leave me out of sight,

We'd better keep our places.

Perhaps the world would all go wrong

Were there too many daisies."

"Look bravely up into the sky,

And be content with knowing

That God wished for a buttercup

Just here where you are growing."

-Sarah Orne Jewett

A Quiet Moment To Keep

Here I am at the keyboard once again. The house is quiet and no one needs anything. I'm looking forward to going downstairs in a few minutes and warming up some Pepperoni and Sausage Pizza I made yesterday and eating it along with a warm piece of pumpkin pie.
Can you tell I'm relishing the moments? I am, and do you know why? Because my children and husband have left to grandma's house to visit for the rest of the day and I alone am left to keep it.

I can't say that I'm an exemplary keeper of the home. I would fall short of some people's standards, I suppose. I look at the house sometimes and I have to make choices throughout my day. I have to choose whether to spend time really talking to my children or cleaning my room. Having reading time with them or mopping and scrubbing the floors. There doesn't seem to be time to do it all. At least not for me, so I have to choose. Some days, my home is clean-but some days well....I'm off somewhere perhaps making a memory, or homeschooling, or making dinner, folding laundry.... This is no excuse for not doing the task at hand, but for me I have come to a great compromise. I will be content to do what I can with my time and make a home for my family by keeping it.

So how do you keep the home? I can't say that I'm an expert either, because I've only been married 16 yrs. and well...we can all learn something new, right? But I think keeping the home is this:

To love those that it holds with your heart.
To nourish it by feeding it Words of Life.
To make it a place where the heart is touched.
To keep it from that which would seek to harm.
To make memories that will echo through time.

There's probably more explicit things that could be put on that list, but those are just common sense things that I don't need to mention. I will say this though, you can't keep the home if your heart is not in it. You can't keep the home if you're not there. You can't nourish the home if you have nothing to give to it. It will not be a home where the heart is touched if your heart is hard and untouchable. You can't keep it from harm if you let harm come in. And finally, the memories won't echo through time if time is not taken to make them.

This is a lot to think about. I started out thinking keeping the home was staying there and keeping it clean.

Keeping a home.
Oh, what a privilege.
To Be the Love Abiding Strand
That holds together in perfect union,
Those that within it would labor in.

Seeking the strength of the Almighty
To guide the keeper's words and ways
This task of keeping is worth the gaining,
and losing of one's own self in it.


Now I guess, I'll go eat my pizza.

Untitled Poem by Alice Cary and a lesson learned.

True worth is in being, not seeming;
In doing each day that goes by
Some little good; not in dreaming
Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in their blindness,
And spite of the fancies of youth,
There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.

By Alice Cary

I really like this poem. I found it a few days ago. It speaks to me of being honest with one's self, and about how that what we do today is just as important as our future dreams.

Yesterday, I learned a new lesson. Sometimes, the best lessons are learned by living them out. I thought I'd include it in this post as a poem of my own.

Lesson Learned

No matter my days, my circumstances, or the emotions that go on.
I could be selfish and not worship but all this has not changed You God.
You deserve all the praise and all my affections.
You deserve my hands lifted up.

Though I may not feel wanting to worship;
Though the song does not rise up from within,
God, I will give you honor and glory
Because of who You are.

Then I know my thoughts will move on- past the I, the me and my.
For You are ever greater than the feelings which rise inside;
Tomorrow will be another day, perhaps full of thankfulness and praise;
As for today, I thank you God for I know who You really are.

I know You hold my tomorrows, and that You will hold my hand.

The womb, a cry, and Hannah.

I've been thinking about Hannah today. You know the Hannah I'm talking about don't you? Hannah from the Bible, the mother of Samuel the prophet.

Her womb was closed up and she could not conceive. This greatly bothered Hannah and when they went to the temple she cried out to God. This wasn't quiet crying. It couldn't have been. Eli the priest wouldn't have thought she was drunk and making a spectacle of herself in the temple if it was quiet and unnoticeable.

She was crying!
There are different kinds of crying for me. There's the kind that comes from a sad story or a movie like "Mother of Mine." There's the kind that is mixed with laughter from doing something so accidental as to run into a guy wire and messing up your front bumper. And then there's the kind that reaches into your soul and cries from sorrow. Cries and the tears just run, cries and your heart voicelessly reaches out.. . Hannah cried, and God heard her.

Her womb was open.
Does God give us children as gifts, as arrows? Does He open the womb for some and keep other women's wombs closed? He is the Giver of Life. Was it their lack of scientific knowledge that led the women of Hannah's day to believe that God had closed their womb? Or was is perhaps a closer knowledge to truth and faith that openly disclosed this info? To have a womb that won't give forth fruit- I think this is why many a woman today will opt for adoption.

When God answered her prayer her womb became fruitful. It became a womb that gave forth little Samuel. What fruit has come forth from my womb? Will any of the children have a heart like Samuel? Will they cry out, "Speak my Lord, for thy servant heareth," even in their lack of knowing His voice.
Will they cry out?

Little fingers, little toes

Planned ahead by the Master.

Useful vessels here below-

Oh, to be a Mother.

Pride

Pride comes in many forms it seems
But very far from God it sits,
or stands and sometimes even prances back and forth...

It yields its will,
Surmising that it is correct,
in which it could be but might as well not be
Because of Pride.

It builds a wall,
Repelling all the attributes of God,
Yet it's Mercy and Grace that make some headway
Through the ever tightening cracks.

Deceiving Pride even fools those who sit and wait on God.
It mocks within the gullible friend who takes it to its side.
It's favorite mode of transportation-
He rides on feelings and admiration.
Beware of Pride's hellucinating -
Poison.

--------------------

Sometimes, I just like the poetic approach.

Illumination

From Hebrews 10:32 - A sort of Poem

I remember those days on the other side of grace
When my heart did not see nor my mind comprehend
God's great plan, His desires, my self-will, and my doubt.
Those were days when the light that illuminated upon me
caused a stir within my heart and offended my inner being.
Those were days when the light that illuminated
brought me smack against a wall that was not yielding.
Since those days I have learned that illumination is good.
It helps you see the crooked ways that feet trod to.
Illumination shows ugly for what ugly is and does.
Not small or big nor insignificant.

I couldn't see why God set up all those laws back then
When Moses gave the Ten Commandments plus,
Which no man really kept completely.
"What was the point?"
My blinded eyes would ask.
The point struck home when illumination came.
It showed me I was needing more
Than what the law could do back then.
I needed help, blind people often do.
I needed guidance, lost people do so too.
I needed Jesus -
The Light, the Truth, the Way.

Now I see much clearer.
It started blurry at first.
Kind of like the blind man Jesus healed in Bethsaida.
It seems I saw the world much more different.
Its lures no longer shined.
I saw the true condition the Bible showed of my heart.
I once was lost but now I'm found...
Was blind but now I see....
Illumination- the Grace of God,
Shown in Mercy and in Love.

He's 1 today!!

He is One year old today. One.

He's got only two teeth. Two

He has taken three steps. Three

He has four siblings. Four

He has five little fingers on each one of his hands. Five

Without him there are only six of us. Six

But seven is the number that he made to complete us. Seven

Happy Birthday!!

April is National Poetry Month

Today I will share a little fact about me:
I like poetry. Maybe it's because I like good writing and poetry portrays it in a thoughtful way. Maybe its the freedom it gives you to play with words and express feeling. This is not to say that I'm a very good poet, but hey... it's not a career.

I just found out that the month of April has been set apart to encourage this fancy and so I've decided to do my part and blog a little poem.

Here it goes:

Spring

As I walked out to fill the recycle bin,

The coolness in the air reminded me

That the weather would soon feel kind of misty

Early in the morning when the sunbeams shine in.

Oh the joy to send my kids out running!

Thank the Lord for the coming of spring!

The blooms on the tree near the bathroom,

Are about to produce nice green leaves.

And I won't have to see the construction

That's going on below the hill and across the street.

I was torn last fall not knowing

Which season was my favorite.

But I really with all honesty can't deny

That spring has got to be the best one;

Doesn't God make all things new in His time?

Aren't the Crocuses just a wonder,

And the peeking of Hostas too?

Spring is definitely more creative,

More impressive than autumn;

Can't beat freshness to sweating all summer long.

Spring is here, I'm delighted.

Robins eggs will soon be found.

The caterpillars my kids will gather;

Poor little creatures, well that's their toll.

Well, I must be going so I can get an early start

On the new day that awaits me tomorrow.

Fresh are the mornings of spring,

See, I told you... I like poetry.