To Walk In Your Steps

There was a time we longed to know more about our loved one, wasn’t there?  When we were dating, we wanted to know everything there was to know about our beloved’s life… from childhood to adulthood… who they were in the depth of their heart, and what made them who they are today.  We often come to know each other so thoroughly that we can finish their sentences!  We know how they think, and why they do what they do.  And we eagerly follow their leading.  How well I remember following my husband in the barn, learning from him… following so close he called me his little shadow! 

I hope we never lose sight of that longing to know our loved one on a deeper level because life continually changes, and so do we.  And that got me to thinking… and wondering… how well do I know my Lord?  Oh, I know Him… I love Him… and I know His word.  But, do I know Him deeply, as well as I knew my husband?  I know I fall short and cannot live up to His expectations.  But I also sense a need in my heart to continually study the depth of who God is; and, in that way, learn more about Him and His will, His path, His leading in my life.

In Deuteronomy 6:5, we read, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”  That’s not always easy.  It’s a challenge.  There is so much in life that clamors for our time and attention.  Yet, as the psalmist David expressed his heart in Psalm 25:4, I find it echoes my heart-felt longings:  “Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths.”  While he also wrote in Psalm 63:1-2, “O God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you.  My soul thirsts for you…” 

Many years later, the prophet Jeremiah heard Yahweh/Jehovah God speak to him with a message for the people of Israel on returning to their homeland from captivity in Babylon.  “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, “‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you search for me with all your heart.’”  Jeremiah 29:11-13 NIV)  And that’s the heart I want while seeking Him in my life.

The day I was writing this blog in 2015, my stepmother and I spoke on the phone.  As we reminisced about my father who had died that April, she shared a story about my oldest brother’s daughter.  At age 3, she tagged along behind her grandfather on his way out to the garden.  “What are you doing Pop-Pop?” she asked.  “Picking the Japanese beetles off the tomato plants and putting them in this bucket,” was his reply.  Since she wanted to go in the garden with her beloved grandfather, he told her to follow where he put his feet so she wouldn’t get her sneakers dirty from the mud.  Out of love and understanding for his little granddaughter, Pop-Pop then took a shorter stride.  As she followed, she stretched her little 3-year-old legs just far enough for her feet to land in Pop-Pop’s big footsteps as he led the way down the path.

Under Pop-Pop’s guidance, his little granddaughter picked beetles off the leaves and dropped them into the bucket.  As she exclaimed to Granny, “I pick Napanese beetles like Pop-Pop!”  Literally following in her grandfather’s footsteps, she was so proud of herself!  And isn’t that what the Lord asks us to do as we seek Him?  That we would love Him enough to follow in His steps, on His path, as He guides our way!

To Walk in Your Steps by Linda A. Roorda

My soul is thirsting for truth from Your word,

My daily strength on this path of life.

A joy with grace and merciful peace

When in Your will my soul finds its rest.

~

Teach me Your ways, to walk in Your steps

Let Your light shine as it guides my path,

May I be used to reach seeking souls

Others who need the touch of Your hand.

~

May all my words echo Your wisdom

And may the thoughts within my heart’s depth

Reveal the treasures I’ve kept and pondered

That all I do will glorify You.

~

So I’ll rise above the fray of this world

To place my trust in Jesus my Lord

And even though some days overwhelm

I rejoice within His absolute love.

~

For gracious is He who pursues my heart

Just as I am, He embraces me.

To know His truth with mercy sets free

Blessed assurance and peace in His will.

~~

Ode To A Thief

There is a way that often seems best to us.  It’s characterized by a life of fun as we grab all the gusto this world has to offer.  We deserve it!  After all, we only go ‘round once!  Right?  Except… there’s another way.  It follows our Lord’s path, different from a worldly perspective.  And how often don’t we see the two worlds on a collision course between absolute values and whatever goes… whatever feels right… at any given time.

He was just a thief on a cross, one of two who hung on either side of Jesus.  It’s possible that the thief speaking among us from the cross had spent a lifetime of going his own way, doing his own thing, robbing others, and, with hate and anger, killing those in his way.  His life was spent doing what he wanted, when he wanted… to see what he could get away with… to take his schemes as far as possible… just because he could… for he had lived the darker side of life.

Until… our thief was apprehended and sentenced for his crimes because there are consequences to all of our actions – for haven’t we read or heard “…be sure your sin will find you out.” (Numbers 32:42, NIV) and “Do not be deceived:  God is not mocked.  A man reaps what he sows.” (Gal.6:7, NIV)  One way or another, God will deal with us.  If we go against His word, our wrongs will either own us and harden our heart, causing us to blame others for our own sins, or will fester and eat away at us until we acknowledge what we have done, repent, ask for forgiveness, and share the peace of God… with a renewed purpose in life.

Even as Jesus was being crucified between two criminals, He humbly expressed what we so often have trouble doing:  “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34 NIV)  And, with these simple words, the Son of God forgave those whose intent it was to destroy Him.  Out of a heart of love for every one of us, He simply forgave. Instead, with mocking hearts, our thief and his companion hanging on crosses to each side of Jesus, along with others, railed at Jesus and taunted Him by shouting: “Save yourself…if you are the Son of God!” (Matthew 27:39 NIV)

But it wasn’t long before our criminal on one of the crosses began to contemplate who the man was that hung next to him.  He had heard about him, after all.  He was amazed that this man didn’t fight back… he’d been mocked and spat upon, had a crown of thorns painfully pushed down upon his head, had been brutally whipped until the flesh tore open across his ribs and back, and had been forced to carry his own cross when he could barely put one foot in front of the other… until the soldiers commanded another man to carry it after he fell.  This beaten man simply accepted what was happening to him even though He had committed no crime.  And it was then our thief truly understood that the man next to him really was the Son of God, just as He had claimed.

He also realized that there was nothing he could hide from God… the One who knows the thoughts and depths of our heart, even before we say a word or commit an act.  This he recalled from the Holy Word he had heard in his youth:  “O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar… Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord… Where can I flee from your presence?  If I go up to the heavens [or] if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.”  (Psalm 139:1-8, NIV) 

And his heart and soul were pierced for all he had done with nary a thought as to how his actions would affect others.  He had never understood the pain and anguish he had caused in the lives of those he had taken advantage of for his own pleasure.  And he hung there overwhelmed with guilt for his lies and deception… for a selfish attitude… for arrogant pride… for flattering words used to get his way… for having lied and violated the trust of friends and loved ones … for even using Scripture to get his way… and for blaming others when his schemes failed…  After all, he couldn’t let anyone know how wounded, vulnerable, insecure and ashamed he really felt deep inside his heart. 

Our thief also recalled hearing how this man had amazed the Pharisees in the temple by saying, “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.”  (John 3:16 NIV)  He never understood what others saw in this man, but now it all became clear… and there was nothing left for him to do but to bow his head, confess his sins, and humbly ask for forgiveness… from God and from others… as Jesus accepted him into His heavenly kingdom that very moment.  Oh the joy this former thief must have known!!

Though I have taken a few liberties in writing up the criminal’s portrayal, this story has features which sound all too familiar to us.  I know I stand guilty of sins.  We each have a choice to make.  We can either remain unrepentant… or bow our head in sorrow and seek forgiveness. For there is nothing, absolutely nothing, we can ever do that would be too horrible to be forgiven by our loving God. 

And, if we confess and seek forgiveness from our heavenly Father, and those we have offended, we can be assured of forgiveness with open arms that welcome. We can then move forward in life with a renewed sense of purpose as we serve our Lord and those around us with joy.

Isn’t this what Easter is all about – the death of Jesus on that horrible cross, followed by His resurrection from the dead. He paid the ultimate sacrifice for my sin and yours… the completion of old Jewish prophecies, proving He is, indeed, the Son of God, our Savior!

A Happy and Blessed Easter to all!

Ode To A Thief by Linda A. Roorda

~

There is a way that seems best to me

A wider path of pleasant facades,

A feast for the eyes, the senses to soothe,

That seems to fill deep needs in my soul.

~

To my own eyes I do what is right

No disciplined hand can correct my ways.

Life is for pleasure, the best I can find

Whatever suits me and gives me a thrill.

~

To take what is yours just because I can

Excitement and dares are games to be played.

What do I care if objections are made

Pushing the limits I will not be stopped.

~

It gives me pleasure to watch your unease

My life is my own, don’t think I will change.

Fear in your eyes gives challenge to me

Warnings I heed not, temptation’s too great.

~

But then I listened one day to a man

They called him Teacher, the great Son of God.

Perfect was He, no sin harbored there

With words of wisdom my soul He did pierce.

~

He understood fears, the depth of my heart

And tears that I cried in lonely deep pain.

He reached out to me, and held me so tight

I felt his love envelope my soul.

~

He gazed intently to depths of my heart

I felt deep shame for all I had done.

I bowed in anguish, repenting of sins

As mercy’s grace washed over my soul.

~

Beaten and hung with no fault in Him,

We thieves nearby, sentences deserved,

But with His great love accepted within

Came the gift of life, an eternal reward.

~

It’s never too late to cry out to God

Unburden your soul and forgiveness receive.

Accept His grace, salvation’s free gift

And live a new life to glorify Him.

~

For there’s a way that seems best to me

As His Word now guides the path that I walk.

Not the wide lane, but narrow and straight

As daily I choose to honor my Lord.

~

And, oh! what a peace he’s blessed me with now

As His light shines forth from depths of my soul.

His words I’ll share for others to know

His saving grace so freely given.

~~

The Adulteress

Reading several pages of a book by Laura Hillenbrand to my 8^th grade students, I knew I needed to read the rest of the story.  “Unbroken – A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption” is a bio of Louis Zamperini. Holding records for running the fastest mile, he remains the youngest Olympics qualifier at age 19, placing 8^th at the 1936 Berlin Olympics in the 5,000 meter race. Though he didn’t medal, he put on a burst of speed to run the fastest final lap among the competitors in an amazing 56 seconds! On asking, the teacher lent me an unabridged version and I’ve been reading every minute I can this weekend, unable to set the book down for long.

In a Pacific battle with the Japanese during WW II, Zamperini and his pilot friend survived their B-24 plane crash of May 27, 1943. Stranded at sea for 47 days, they were picked up by the Japanese. Surviving more than 2 years of hellish prison camps and disease, they were tortured, starved, and severely beaten, enduring the brutality with humor, hope and determination. Freed after the atomic bombs were dropped in August 1945, Zamperini faced torments at home with PTSD nightmares of his experience under one especially sadistic guard. Drinking excessive alcohol to control the nightmares, his life began to unravel.

Finally acquiescing to his wife’s entreaties, he attended a Billy Graham crusade. She had accepted Christ a few days earlier, and hoped Louie could find solace in Christ for the torments he lived with… and he did! His drinking and tormenting nightmares stopped that very night. Zamperini heard Graham preach on the adulteress that night, Graham’s words reminding him of forgotten prayerful pleas for God to save him while in the lifeboat at sea – “If you save me, I will serve you forever.”

After accepting Christ as his Savior, Zamperini returned to Japan, meeting his former prison guards, themselves in prison. They were puzzled to see him reach out to embrace them with his infectious joy of forgiveness. He also began the Victory Boys Camp for troubled youth, sharing his life’s path, including his salvation journey. As I read, I knew I had to change my plans and post this blog instead of my first choice.

Forgiven!  Can you imagine how she must have felt?  So close to being condemned to death, now free to go… forgiven a heavy burden of sin… free to overcome her past… and free to share the love of her Savior with everyone she met!

“The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery… ‘In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.  Now what do you say?’  They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.  But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.  When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, ‘If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Again, he stooped down and wrote on the ground.  At this, those who heard began to go away, one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there…”  (John 8:3-9)

We’ve all done something in our past we’d just as soon forget.  We may still feel the sting of shame.  I can think of many public figures who disgraced themselves including President Nixon, Pete Rose, Lance Armstrong, Bill Cosby, Ravi Zacharias… while many others seem to be enabled in walking away from accountability for their words or actions.  But, how much better that we all face our wrongs… our sins… head on.  Admit them and repent, ask for forgiveness, stop blaming others, walk away from wrongful behaviors, and feel the loving grace of our Lord as we make a full corrective change.

So, what about the men who brought the adulteress woman to court?  Well… they simply walked away and left her standing alone with Jesus.  I’ve always wondered if Jesus was writing a list of their sins in the sand.  If so, that would have made them more than a little uneasy.  They would have stood in amazement, and perhaps felt shame as their secret thoughts and sins were written in the sand, available for all to read.  How did this man know so much about them?

They had brought this woman to condemn her for adultery, a sin punishable by stoning to death.  And yet, where was the man from the tryst?  Didn’t his sin matter to them, too?  Or, was he among her accusers, blaming her?  Rather than face the depth of hypocrisy in their own heart, each man turned and simply walked away.  They didn’t want others to learn the weight of their own brokenness.  But, as they silently walked away, no contrite heart or apology was expressed.  Did they not realize that God sees and knows the truth?

What a mockery they made of justice… fingers pointing at another while being guilty themselves.  So typical of abusers who hide behind their mask of piety.  They were so focused on trying to get Jesus to incriminate himself with a response, they didn’t understand the depth of their own sin.  They walked away from seeing who Jesus truly was, and their own need of grace. 

Both civic and religious leaders fail us then as now. Leaders who call themselves gifted exude an arrogant pride. (Proverbs 16:18)  Leaders who fail to hold themselves and others around them accountable lack integrity and humility.  Often, they can be classified narcissistic, being more than simply self-centered.  They feel entitled to praise or special treatment.  They lack empathy, are abusive, liars who do not take responsibility for their own behavior, take advantage of others, lash out at criticism or perceive they’re not getting the attention they deserve with a behind-the-scenes retaliation and perpetual blame shifting.  Underneath the egotistic façade, they are often deeply insecure and use a faux cover to present themselves as more worthy than they really are.

Yet, what a powerful picture of mercy and grace Jesus gave us all as He forgave the woman.  All she had to do was repent from her old ways, and become a changed woman.  In leaving her old life behind to follow the Teacher, our Lord, she gladly started sharing with others what He had done for her.

Because she now had a future!  A life to look forward to!  She’d lived her past under whispered labels.  She’d heard the mocking voices deep in her soul… stupid, worthless, trash, adulteress, prostitute.  Yes, she’d lived a life of ill repute.  But, the Teacher… He respected her!  So, what did He see in her?  He saw someone who’d been taken advantage of to benefit others… someone weighed down by a heart of sorrow and shame… someone willing to openly shoulder responsibility for all of her own wrongs… someone longing for change.

This Teacher, the man named Jesus… He saw what she could be when cleansed of her past.  He saw her broken heart longing to be made whole.  He stood her up tall so she could start anew.  Just like our Lord does for us.  He forgives the heart that repents, no matter the charge… that longs to make amends… that longs for a closeness with God.  He holds out His hands to draw us near… setting us back up on our feet as He guides our path with flawless wisdom…  Forgiven!

The Adulteress By Linda A. Roorda

I met him today, the greatest Teacher!

My life was a mess, but He picked me up.

He gave me hope… He gave me vision.

He freed my soul from sin’s dark snare.

~

Dragging to court they brought me up front,

My accusers smug turning to the crowd.

With taunting words they scoffed and accused

Revealing my life, my sin and my shame.

~

How could I have reached such fallen depths?

He told me he cared.  I believed his lies.

His words were glib with flattery smooth

But now I was caught, ensnared in a trap.

~

Stating that stoning was punishment fit

They asked the Teacher his thoughts on the law.

Instead He stooped and commenced to write

Words hid from others, known only to them.

~

Yet, as they questioned, He continued to write.

On standing tall, He peered in their soul.

“If any one of you lives without sin,

Let him be the one who casts the first stone.”

~

Slowly the elders and then the younger

Quietly fled until only two,

The Teacher and I, we alone stood still.

From silence He spoke, my soul deeply touched…

~

“Woman, where are they?  Have any condemned?”

Glancing around, “No one,” said I.

“Then neither do I.  I condemn you not.

Go, and leave your sin.  Forgiven are you.”

~~

The Master’s Voice

The Master’s Voice – Little lambs are so soft, cuddly and cute! In my mid-teens, my siblings and I were given a lamb which I promptly named “Lambie.”  Very original, huh?!  It was only intended until something better came to mind, but nothing ever did.  She was a twin, abandoned by her mother and given to us by our cousin, Robert, from his flock.  I don’t know the breed, but she had light gray wool with a black face and black legs. 

As Lambie’s main caretaker, I took responsibility to make sure she was fed.  Following my Dad’s directions, I made a gruel with oatmeal, water and evaporated milk, feeding it to her in a glass bottle which had one of my brother’s bottle nipples attached – we were good at making do.  And I loved to watch her little tail go “ninety miles an hour” while she drank! 

Lambie was small, not very old, so we kept her in a box near the old-fashioned wood-burning kitchen stove to keep her warm.  It was too cold to put her out in the barn all by herself without her mama.  Even our mutt, Pepsi, of terrier and other unknown parentage, liked nothing better than to jump into Lambie’s box to check out this new arrival to our menagerie.  And I’m sure Pepsi wondered why this little one said “baaaa” and didn’t whimper like a puppy, but she contentedly mothered her adopted baby anyway! 

Eventually, Lambie went to her pen in the barn, and followed me wherever I went.  It was fun to watch her spring up and down as she played and ran about the yard and nibbled on the grass.  Occasionally, she tried to wander beyond her guardian’s protection until called back to my side.  Though I never considered myself her “shepherd,” in reality I was.  I provided food and water for her, protected her, and kept her from harm… until the vet diagnosed her with Listeriosis, or circling disease.  Nothing could be done for her and we had to put her down.  Crying so hard I could barely see, I insisted to my Dad that I would dig the grave at the edge of the raspberry patch and bury little Lambie all by myself. 

Such were the thoughts that came to mind after writing the poem below which is based on Jesus’ parable found in John 10:1-21.  Here, we read that the Good Shepherd knows each one of his sheep, and He calls them by name. But the sheep also know their shepherd, recognize his voice, and follow wherever he leads them.  Should a stranger enter the fold, the sheep will not follow him… instead, they will run around wildly or just run away en masse, simply because they aren’t familiar with the stranger’s voice. 

Perhaps, under cover, a thief may come near the flock, pretending to be their shepherd.  He may disguise himself and draw a few young, inexperienced sheep away who think they’re following their shepherd.  Or perhaps a predator might sneak up on an unsuspecting lamb and lead it astray.  Disoriented and lost, the lamb follows the predator to supposed safety.  Soon it becomes obvious that the predator is not its shepherd… but by then it’s too late.

Except, the true shepherd with his trained eye realizes what’s happened.  Like another of Jesus’ parables in Luke 15:3-6, He seeks out His precious lamb and brings it back, or willingly fights off the predator to rescue his little lost lamb.  Listening to its Master’s voice, the lamb turns around and joyfully runs back to the safety of the flock… and there it stays, feeling content and peaceful under the watchful eye of its protective shepherd. 

And I thought, how like those sheep we are…  As Isaiah 53:6 says, “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”  We have a tendency at times to follow what sounds and looks so good, what seems so right… only to realize later that we’ve been duped… we were on the wrong track… and we need someone to save us.

That special someone, the Master, the Good Shepherd, would do anything for us, His sheep… especially those who have wandered off or been drawn away by a predator.  Not so the hireling who doesn’t care much about someone else’s sheep.  With only a little provocation, he’d as soon run away than fight for the lives of the sheep under his watch.  Just as my heart ached and cried for the loss of my little precious lamb, so the Good Shepherd of our story aches for the lost, and would lay down His own life to protect and save His precious sheep from harm. 

And isn’t that what our Lord, our Good Shepherd, our Master, has done for us?  May we always hear the love in our Master’s voice within our heart and follow His leading…

The Master’s Voice by Linda A. Roorda

Like gentle sheep we’re prone to wander

Easily enticed by things of this world

But at the sound of our Master’s voice

Will we then heed or continue headstrong?

~

The Master’s words will not lead astray

Seeking the ones who meander off

Softly calling each one by name

With tender words of comfort and peace.

~

When storms arrive and release their fury

The shepherd guides his flock to safety.

How like our Master who longs to embrace

And bring us home to rest in His arms.

~

When wolves appear like gentle sheep clothed

With flattery smooth they strike unannounced

Their intention dark, the naïve to deceive

Serving their needs, the meek to destroy.

~

Then words of wisdom are soon directed

At wandering lambs who have left the fold

Calling them back to a sheltered life

Protected under the Master’s great love.

~

Unlike the hireling, He lays down His life

Whatever it takes to gather His own

Take heed to His call and flee from the foe

Lean into His arms of mercy and grace.

~

Like a good Shepherd is our Savior Lord

With care He protects each sheep in His fold

It matters to Him whose words we follow

The call of folly or the Master’s voice.

~~

G.R.A.C.E.

G.R.A.C.E. – This acrostic idea did not originate with me; unfortunately, I don’t even remember who I heard preaching about it… nor do I remember all of his words intended for the title of G.R.A.C.E.  In any event, this is my original poem and thoughts, having heard only the tail end of that sermon.

Grace can be defined as an elegance, a refined charm.  Speaking of a practiced ballerina, or champion ice skater, brings to mind a picture of elegance and graceful beauty in motion.  But grace can also be defined as unmerited favor, like the rescue or redemption from evil.  And thus, the word grace brings into focus the unmerited gift of salvation. As another acrostic online puts it – “God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense.” How fitting!

Grace is a gift… something we don’t deserve and we can’t do for ourselves.  It’s a reaching out by God toward us, especially as He displays His love for us through His Son.  Who would ever think that God would send His beloved Son to earth from His heavenly home of glory?  Who would think that He would allow His Son to be born into this world of woe, a world of evil?  Who would think that this man, who claimed to be the Son of God, would grow up to live among us… that He would not live an easy life of posh luxury because of who He was… that in living with us He would be tempted as we are, face ridicule and mocking for His love of sinners, the downtrodden, the untouchables – and that He would heal them, and tell them their sins were forgiven?  And who would have expected that our great God would allow His Son, His one and only beloved Son, to die a horrendous and painful death on a Roman cross for sins that he didn’t even commit? 

Just for us?  For the sins of each one of us?  Why?  Because of His great love for us!  And we don’t even have to satisfy a list of requirements to please our God for Him to love us!  So, how do we fathom such a priceless gift… if not for eyes of grace.  In Romans 3:23 we are told that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…”  Yet, “…it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast.”  (Ephesians 2:8-9)

And out of a thankful heart for such grace and mercy comes our grateful attitude.  For in our day-to-day relationship with our Lord, we long to please Him, grow closer to Him, and honor Him in all that we do.  And therein lies our grateful relationship with an attitude of confession and endurance…

G.R.A.C.E.

A Grateful Relationship with an Attitude

of Confession and Endurance

by Linda A. Roorda

With grateful praise I sing of Your grace

For who am I that You would claim me.

Yet love me You do, knowing my frailties

And stubborn penchant to go my own way.

~

My relationship grows by walking with You

Though there are times I take You for granted.

I hear Your voice, but don’t always heed

Draw me still closer as love grows stronger.

~

My attitude then will change over time

As wisdom grows to honor Your word,

That like a mirror Your Grace I’ll reflect

For all to see Your love shining through Me.

~

May I confess the wrongs I have done

Let me not keep secrets hid away.

Though You know all, You ask that I come

Seeking Your face and forgiving grace.

~

Grant me endurance and strength for the trials

Knowing You light the path that I walk,

And should I stumble draw me near to You

As You wait with grace and mercy’s sweet peace.

~~

Ode To A King

Analogies give us a glimpse of similarities and truths of a story tucked within a story.  Thinking about this concept after my poem below was written brought to mind Mark Twain’s book, “The Prince and The Pauper,” published 1881 initially in Canada, and subsequently in 1882 in the U.S.

In Twain’s beloved story, a young prince and a pauper (who happen to look a lot alike and were born on the same day) trade places in life.  The prince experiences the roughness of a lowly life just as his counterpart once did, while the pauper tries to bravely find his way at the top of an unfamiliar kingdom of elites.  Common sense, so crucial to his survival in the real world, comes in quite handy as he makes his way through the upper echelon. Ultimately, the real prince returns to claim his rightful place as heir and is crowned king.  Ever grateful for his real-life experiences as a pauper, the prince now understands life for the poor and hard-working folks beneath him, and is better able to comprehend their needs.  And makes his friend, the pauper, his aide. 

Not having read Twain’s book, my poem was written without knowledge of the story line, though I had heard of the title.  After research, it’s clear my poem takes a similar, albeit slightly different tack to Twain in relating a king who was used to observing the realm from his castle high above the fray of every-day life.  Wanting to experience firsthand what life for his subjects was like, he walks among them dressed as a beggar.  In this guise, he observes that most people continue on their way with their heads held high, seldom stooping to assist someone poorer and perhaps scruffier than they.  Sadly, there are still those who live and breathe a self-serving arrogance.

A few years ago, I encountered two gentlemen one day – one, a young man looking a bit shabby, crouching against the building to finish a cigarette before entering our local grocery.  Unsure of whether to smile at this lone man for fear my friendliness would be misinterpreted, I nervously glanced his way as he quickly got up and stepped ahead of me to hold the door open.  Giving a smile and thanking him very much, he, ever the gentleman, waited off to the side for me to get settled with a shopping cart as I told him to go ahead of me.

Later that same day, I met an elderly casually-dressed gentleman walking into the pharmacy at the same time.  As I hung back to allow him entrance first, he instead slowed down and motioned for me to go ahead. Noticing his cap signifying he was a Navy Vietnam Veteran, I thanked him for his service, mentioning one of my brothers was a 20-year Navy man who’d served in the Gulf War.  At that point, the gentleman quietly told me he’d served in Korea, Vietnam, Gulf War, and many places in between, a 40-year vet, and we had a nice chat as he thanked me.  And I realized, first impressions do tend to make a difference, don’t they?

On the other hand, a young woman notices our poor man in his tattered clothing.  Kindly offering to feed him, not only did she provide nourishing meals, but she repairs his coat to provide warmth against the cold.  He returns often to talk with her, to learn the depths of her heart, and to simply show appreciation and gratefulness for what she has done for him, a beggar.

He was afraid to share that he had fallen in love with her and was now in a dilemma for he needs to return from whence he came.  Indeed, he knows that truth must always be told in any situation… and so he set out one day to let her know how much he loved her.  He was willing to give up all he owned just to serve her for the rest of his life.  And it was then that he could see his love was returned in her eyes as he knelt down to propose.  With her “yes,” his heart leapt for joy knowing their hearts would soon be united forever, sharing with her who he really was.

Tucked within the depth of my poem’s reflection is the analogy of our Lord’s love for us. Leaving His throne in His beautiful and perfect heavenly home, He came down to dwell among us… in our world of sin and pain. Once here, Jesus experienced life just as we do with all of its temptations and sadness, but also the joys. He wants to have a relationship with each of us. He wants to share conversations in prayer as we listen for his nudging and messages in our heart from His Words of Life in Holy Scripture.  And in this way, He is able to be our advocate and comforter, knowing from personal experience what our life on earth is all about.  For as Jesus once said, “’Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (Matthew 25:40 NIV) 

During this season of Lent, as we think more closely about Jesus, our Savior, we remember what our Lord accomplished as a servant while He lived among us, even to washing His disciples’ dirty feet: “…just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)  In His sacrifice, He gave His all for us through His death on the cross… that we might accept His priceless gift of mercy and forgiveness of our sins, becoming our Lord and Savior.  What joy there will be when we are united with Him and remain in the presence of His love forever!  What a King!

Ode to a King

by Linda A. Roorda

I gazed from afar while observing my realm

And found with interest motives in action,

But often their lives showed merest concern

Though I could see depths of their anguished souls.

~

Oh how I loved these people of mine!

And longed to walk the path to their soul

A chance to converse, a sharing of hearts,

To bring them peace with comforting words.

~

So stepping down, I entered their world

Yearning to serve the rich and the poor

But they did not know this beggar in rags

Most never saw needs, just held their head high.

~

And then I noticed a young woman fair

Who spoke gentle words to a stranger coarse.

She offered food and to mend my coat

While love in my heart had only begun.

~

A love which grew on the winds of time

A chance to bond and learn of her heart

To know the depths of comfort and peace

Humility’s grace wrapped up in mercy.

~

Now deeply in love I’d sacrifice all

Yet she did not know the truth of my garb

How would I explain that she’d found favor

That her heart was true, like gold refined.

~

So I intended my dilemma to share

To let her know from afar I’d come,

That all I’d longed for I treasured in her,

Companionship sweet, a melding of souls.

~

Expressing my love for her tender heart

Overwhelmed was she as on knees I bent

Asking for her hand, with tears she said yes,

My heart leapt for joy that we’ll become one.

~

And then I shared my journey in rags

From a kingdom rich in glory and fame

To this lowly world of sorrow and pain

To which I had come, others to serve.

~

For it was then my eyes did behold

Analogy of One with far greater love

Who left His throne to walk on this earth

To share our burdens and speak to our hearts.

~

His love ran red as He gave His all

To purchase with blood and redeem our souls

That He might draw near, from sin set us free

And offer His gift of life eternal.

~~

A Tender Young Love

“Young love, first love, filled with true devotion…”*  Glimpses of memories linger from sixth grade at Passaic Christian School of a former farm girl whose family had moved back to city life in Clifton, NJ.  It was where life began for her, and where her father’s Dutch immigrant family had lived since the Great Depression era of the 1930s.  She was tall at 5’7” in sixth grade, tallest student in the school actually.  With a natural springing high jump, long arms and legs, she had the strength to punch the ball hard to beat everyone at tetherball – including one classmate in particular.  Poor guy!  He simply gave up and walked away the last time they played.  But she must have made an impression.  After making their silhouettes in art class, he brushed the nose of his next to hers saying, “Eskimo kiss!”, and I was smitten. 

Getting out of his seat for an inquisitive peek out the window one day, our teacher said, “Curiosity killed the cat!” to which he immediately replied, “But satisfaction brought it back!”  I loved his quick wit.  Once a week that spring until school was out for the summer, he walked me home after classes.  One time, he stopped, moved a cinderblock away from a garage door, and positioned me next to it as he stepped up.  Looking down, he exclaimed, “There! Now I’m taller than you!” 

We carry many special memories in our hearts as we travel through life. And, as we glimpse back through the window of time and recall days of long ago, fragments return of treasured days. We’ve held onto dreams and hopes, we’ve made mistakes that we regret, apologized, moved on and matured. Yet, first love remains with its sweet simplicity and priceless memories… a tender young love.

In 2018, my mother’s first beau sought her out.  After visiting her nephews on their farm, he was able to contact me and arrange a visit to see my Mom at the nursing home.  Telling me she had left an impact on his life, he made amends.  They had a wonderful visit, a special time of reminiscing.  All those years ago, they’d met at the county fair in Cobleskill, NY.  As farmers, they had a similar background, living not too many miles apart.  They kept steady company through the end of high school and a bit beyond for about 3-4 years.  He loved racing on the local track, known for a fast reputation which broke their relationship.

Another young man, Ralph, pursued a beautiful girl with a penchant for fast driving… and he asked a friend who that young woman was as she sped by, actually late for work!  Soon she knew this farmer was “the right one” for her as they spent many a Saturday night square dancing, getting to know each other better.  The following spring, they married.  And 11 months later, I arrived as the oldest of six. 

In seasons of time, young love made itself known once again.  When a tall, dark and handsome young man saw her for the first time, it was love at first sight for him.  Still, it took over a year for Ed to gather the courage to ask that pretty girl out on a date.  And I fell in love with this gentle, caring, humorous, tall farmer with a strong faith in God who was determined to do as much as possible despite his vision limitations. He told me that if I ever felt sorry for him, then I didn’t belong at his side. And we shared our hearts and filled our life with young love and true devotion… meant to last a lifetime, shortened by the limitations of life that no one can predict.

Yet, there is a love far deeper than any of our tender loves… a love that lasts far longer than our earthly loves… because our “God loves us deeply [and] is full of mercy” (Ephesians 2:4)  Our God has tenderly loved us from before we even were born…words which Israel’s King David penned that our heartfelt praise can echo: “You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made… My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 139: 13-16)  No matter our past, no matter the cost, our “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. (John 3:16)

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

A Tender Young Love…

by Linda A. Roorda

A tender young love from days long ago

Held in the heart as memories smile

From the depth of care to the pain of loss

Felt in the hands together held tight.

~

A tender young love never forgotten

Still tucked away in pages of yore,

Reflecting upon the days of old

That gently carry the heart’s awaking.

~

A tender young love of silent reverie

The sheltered moments in passage of time

That pause to reflect on life together

Sharing sweet dreams and heart-felt caring.

~

A tender young love that sparkled within

And lit the world with eyes shining bright

A focused adoration so well understood

But lost too soon to the whims of life.

~

A tender young love to always treasure

As I hold your heart in memories dear

Your wit and wisdom with hearty laughter

A voice from the past where our dreams come true.

~~

“Young Love” sung by Sonny James, written by Ric Cartey, Carole Joyner.

Peace in the Storm

Reading our devotions one evening several years ago, my husband quietly asked me to read Psalm 91.  He wasn’t sure what it said, but he had a strong sense God was urging him to have me read this Psalm for a particular difficulty I was facing.

In reading Psalm 91 aloud, I found these words by King David spoke to my heart:  “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say to the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust’… He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart… If you make the Most High your dwelling – even the Lord, who is my refuge – then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent… ‘Because he loves me, says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him…’ He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.”  (vs.1-2, 4, 9-10, 14-15. NIV)

Despite tears rolling down while reading the entire Psalm that night, I felt a great sense of comfort and peace… that peace which passes all understanding despite the trial.  (Philippians 4:7)

None of us is immune to the trials and storms of life, or the feelings of sadness that overtake us at times. Sometimes God graciously allows a storm to pass us by without disturbing our equilibrium, other times He fully heals us in our difficult storm, while other times we have no choice but to wend our way through the storm to understand why we had to walk a difficult path… for neither are we promised a life of ease.  As Jesus reminded His followers in John 16:33, “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.” 

The one who is ill may not even look ill.  They remember their busy fulfilling life of the past, replaced by a limited worth or useless feeling that permeates their days.  We’ve learned it is normal to grieve life changes with sadness and frustration, even as my husband’s great sense of humor would pop through despite a difficult day to envelope us in therapeutic hearty laughter. 

But I will also admit to a touch of envy knowing most friends can do anything or go wherever they want, not an option for us to enjoy.  It can be hard to identify with those who deal with chronic illness… facing health issues and concerns other folks don’t ever seem to encounter.  And the grieving process can initially leave you devoid of the joy which James 1:2-3 speaks about as we learn to accept chronic illness. 

Guilt may even be felt by the chronically ill person and family when prayers for healing seem to go unanswered.  To hear a casual or flippant response, to be told we’re not praying right, or to sense a lack of genuine care can be crushing. As we pray for healing, we especially ask for strength to handle each day… because healing as we want may not be God’s plan.  The Apostle Paul was not healed as he desired, but learned that God’s grace was sufficient with Christ’s power and strength evident through his (Paul’s) weaknesses.  (II Corinthians 12:7-10)   Relying on God for wisdom and strength each day, God’s power shines through us.

I will never forget a hospital chaplain who sat with me when my husband was in the ICU in 2010 for severe life-threatening grand mal (tonic-clonic) seizures.  Gradually pulling out our life story, he listened and cared deeply, saying that in 30 years as a chaplain, he’d never met a family who’d dealt with so many difficult issues as we had, and I hadn’t even told him all, as he prayed with me in facing a new major stressor.  Six months later, my husband was back in the ER, hearing his favorite ER physician say, “I’m so glad to see you! Not that you’re ill again, but that you survived those seizures and have no damage!”  Wow!  She truly cared!

We appreciated the support and prayers of family and friends as we faced each new trial.  Take time to hear concerns as a new norm is accepted, leaning on God as He walks beside you in the storm.  Share your heartfelt hugs.  Convey a depth of feeling and understanding in asking “how are you doing.”  Friends and family who ask and truly listen to understand what anyone with chronic illness faces bring much comfort.  Offers of help are gratefully appreciated, even if they cannot be readily accepted.

While we’re inside the storm, thought the wind and waves batter our world, we do remember God is still there, still in control. We know we can trust Him to hold us tightly, to shelter and protect… even though we may lose everything, including life itself, as when we lost our oldest daughter.  Yet, through every difficulty, He will make a way, perhaps close one door to open a better one, and shine His light to guide us as we move forward… one step at a time.

It’s where we place our trust that peace will be revealed.  And when it’s placed in our Lord’s perfect will, trusting that He has our best interests at heart even in the most difficult times, we see Him help us handle what comes our way as we grow in faith to become more like Christ, our life’s purpose.  With such trust, our faith remains unshakeable, and we find a renewed peace… with a joy that passes understanding.

There’s a painting I love entitled “Peace in the Midst of the Storm” by Jack E. Dawson.  One story is told that a wealthy benefactor searched for the perfect painting depicting peace.  The first two beautiful tranquil scenes were rejected.  When the artist returned to his easel, frustrated at his work being rejected, his prayer prompted the design of a riveting scene.  On a dark and stormy night, water gushes in torrents over rocky ledges…as a mother bird calmly sits upon her nest tucked under a ledge, protecting her young while the elements rage. Now that’s peace!  https://jackdawsontour.com/peace-in-the-midst-of-the-storm/

Studying that painting, I also notice a profile of Christ in the rock formations and a cross created by rocky fissures.  Considering how our heavenly Father gently guides and protects us during the storms of life, however fierce they may be, it’s His canopy of love and peace that shelters and comforts us.  And I can be at peace when life is in turmoil knowing that “[He] will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in [Him].  Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord…is the Rock eternal.” (Isaiah 26:3-4 NIV)

Peace by Linda A. Roorda

~

There is a peace in the depth of my soul

A joy that comes from Your love alone,

For in the midst of storms and trials

My heart is steady when focused on You.

~

But peace is fleeting when I fail to heed

When I take charge and grasp hold the wheel.

I need to trust that Your ways are best

When through the darkness I walk gripped by fear.

~

For as the waves relentlessly toss

Your face I’ll seek for comforting solace.

I know You’ll guide me safely to shore

As Your light shines down to brighten my way.

~

For what is peace without Your mercy

The hand held out to offer refuge,

An ear to hear burdens of the heart

Arms to envelope the soul in turmoil?

~

Grace beyond measure You pour over me

Yet I don’t deserve riches of mercy.

Prone to wander, to follow my will

Still You pursue to seek and to save.

~

There is contentment just in the knowing

Whenever I feel the world crashing down,

You call my name and draw me with joy

Out of the chaos and into Your arms.

~

And like a fresh rain washing over me now

Peace like the sun envelopes my soul,

It covers my life with joy unreserved

Tranquility found as I rest in You.

~~

What If…

This story is very close to my heart for someone I dearly loved would not have lived among us if the recommended abortion had taken place.  January is Sanctity of Human Life month, and today is Sanctity of Human Life Sunday.  First designated as such in 1984 by President Ronald Reagan, I think it extends to far more than the banner of the anti-abortion movement.  It’s not a political issue, but one that affects our moral fiber.  Sanctity of life issues reflect on each one of us because all life is sacred.

With the 51^st anniversary of January 1973’s Roe v. Wade abortion decision, I again share the story of a mother-to-be who already had two healthy children, a girl and a boy.  This time, she was very ill with her pregnancy.  Vomiting frequently, she steadily grew worse.  Struggling to carry this new little life, and against her wishes, her physician sought to obtain a “medically necessary” abortion.  At that time, three doctors needed to sign documentation indicating the mother’s life was in jeopardy if the pregnancy continued.  However, no third physician would put his name on the line to allow such an abortion. 

A Cesarean section was performed at 7 months’ gestation or risk losing both mother and baby.  To the surprise of all, twin boys were born!  After surgery, the mom nearly died from the effects of toxemia (i.e. now called pre-eclampsia), the result of high blood pressure and the demands on her body by not one but two precious little ones.

With prayer and great medical care, she pulled through; but her little boys struggled.  The largest twin at 5 lbs succumbed to an enlarged heart and died at two days of life, while the smallest little boy at 3-1/2 lbs was placed in an incubator for a month.  This tiny preemie survived, albeit with health problems and very limited vision in only one viable eye. 

How do I know?  The littlest twin was my husband, Edward.  His blindness was caused by the incubator’s high oxygen content.  But we all praise God that no third physician was willing to sign papers to permit an abortion which would have taken the lives of these precious boys.

Prior to 1952, major medical centers knew that high levels of oxygen in incubators led to infant retinal damage and blindness.  But physicians at the tiny hospital in Goshen, NY, a small farming community, were not aware of these findings.  As a toddler, Ed was taken to Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center in New York City.  There, his parents were told he was among about 2000 children seen in their clinic, one of seven children who had some remnants of remaining vision!  The optic nerve to his right eye was damaged, causing total blindness, while his left eye had limited vision, 20/200 with correction. 

Ed got his first pair of glasses at age 2.  Three years later, with a new pair of stronger lenses, he stared out the car watching the world go by.  Suddenly, he shouted, “I see them!”  Kids were sledding down a nearby hill; though blurry, it was something he’d never seen before.  Whenever his mom told this story, it always brought tears to her eyes.  That one sentence was worth every cent of his care, she’d say. 

As Ed grew up, he was determined to do nearly everything everyone else could do.  It drove him forward.  Totally blind since 1998, we considered it a blessing he had limited vision for as long as he did.  The renowned musician, Stevie Wonder, has the same condition.  Then called retrolental fibroplasia (RLF), it is caused by high levels of oxygen in the incubator which contributes to abnormal blood vessel growth, damaging the retina.  Now termed retinopathy of prematurity (ROP), it still affects a small percentage of premature infants. 

At about 22 days, the pre-born infant’s heart begins beating.  By 12 weeks, she is about 2 inches long, fully formed and recognizably human, able to feel pain.  By 14-16 weeks, fully formed, fingers and toes have fingerprints and nail; he sees and blinks, inhales and exhales amniotic fluid, kicks, sucks a thumb, and sleeps regularly.  At full-term, 39 weeks, your baby is ready for life outside the nurturing womb. Even Ed’s retired dermatologist, a devout Catholic, always wore the tiny “Precious Feet” pin on her lapel as a testament to her beliefs, pleased we knew what it meant. Look up the pin name online for a physician’s story behind this pin.

Since Roe v. Wade was passed January 22, 1973 allowing for legal abortions in America, the numbers have been staggering with more than 63 million abortions.  It must also be taken into account that some data is voluntarily reported while other American states have not provided details in a number of years, and I read there are many uncounted abortions. Yet with legal abortions available, the number of deaths from illegal abortions has definitely declined.

For anyone who has aborted their baby for whatever reason, I pray she finds peace in the loving arms of God’s forgiveness.  But my prayer also is that each precious little life be allowed to reach his or her full potential and life purpose, regardless of disabilities.  The current discussions of “quality of life” and euthanasia go beyond a personal decision, with government or insurance companies’ input supposedly for the “good of society.” 

There are many difficult questions on both sides of the aisle. But I’ve long pondered, if we care so much for those in the animal world, and carefully protect and preserve many other species from decimation, how much more precious is each and every human life – especially since we are made in the image of God?  How can we destroy human life through abortion, i.e. murder in utero, simply because the pregnancy doesn’t fit our plans or the pre-born baby is “defective”?  Do we expect abortion because some pre-born infants are imperfect, and will become a supposed burden to society?  Do we justify abortion because some parents are unprepared to care for their children, abuse them, or kill them? 

Even in our imperfect society, there is a viable alternative – adoption.  However, with more stringent laws passed to prevent human trafficking, adoption has become an increasingly difficult option.

Anyone who has miscarried an unborn child understands the pain of loss.  I miscarried our first little girl, Heather, at six months, with autopsy showing twins who did not separate properly, followed by a second miscarriage a year later.  My cousin, Randy, intellectually challenged, grew up a kind and loving young man thanks to the love of his widowed mother.  Despite his disabilities, he knew everything there was to know about his baseball team and the players! 

My step-sister’s son, Cory, was born with DeGeorge syndrome due to a missing part of chromosome 22.  Also having apraxia (an inability to perform certain purposeful actions due to brain damage) and diabetes, he developed cirrhosis a year before passing away Easter Sunday 2015.  Like many with disabilities, Cory had an infectious joy for life and an unconditional love for everyone he came in contact with, thanks to his mother, Janet.

Life is sacred, and each pre-born child is a unique gift from God just waiting for us to open our arms and heart to this new little life. 

As David wrote in Psalm 139:13-16: “…you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.”

What If… by Linda A. Roorda

What if…

There was no God?

Would we know how to love

Or, would hate rule our lives?

Would we each decide

What rules to live by

Changing like the wind

As our wants wrest control?

~

Would we violate

The sanctity of life

Simply because

Life would not matter

Except for the worth

We each determine

How best we can serve

Our selfish ambition?

~

And yet, what if…

Each life among us

Was somehow meant

To open the eyes

Of our heart and soul

To a higher purpose

To show the value

Inherent within

No matter the wrapping?

~

And what if…

We move toward each other

And then extend

Our outstretched hands?

Would that not show

Great caring and love

From within the depths

Of a heart overflowing?

~

For is that not like

The hands of One

Extended outward

Nailed upon a beam

To show us how

We too should love

And sacrifice self

Our gift to each other?

~

Because… what if…

There is a God

Who really cares

And Who truly loves

Each for who we are

For His life was a gift

That we would know

Just how we should love?

~~

His Guiding Hand

 I saw the sun shining bright for a while yesterday as it peeked from behind those clouds!  That prompted me to take a brisk walk with the wind at my back aiding my pace. With the same wind and sun in my face on the way home, I found myself leaning into the wind bursts to keep my balance a few times.  How well I remember taking walks with my husband on days like that where he’d hold tightly onto my arm to keep me from blowing away, as he put it!  

He kept me from getting blown to and fro by those changing brisk winds… something our Lord does for us when we hold onto His hand, allowing Him to lead and guide us thru stormy days. Which prompted this previously unpublished blog for today.  May you know the Lord’s guiding hand every day on your journey thru life.

Sometimes we feel like we have to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders, and we fret and worry about everything!  I know… because that description fits me at times.  It’s one of my struggles – learning to release my cares to the One who knows and allows what it is I face each and every day.  He can handle all that comes my way… if I would just let Him… and He can lift me up from all the mistakes I manage to make.

But I’m going to admit it’s not easy to “let go and let God” as the popular saying goes.  Sometimes it seems that if I do the worrying, then somehow that will help make the situation better.  Nah!  Don’t count on it!  Actually, it seems like it often tends to make the situation worse as I become confused and lost in the tangled web of thoughts.

So, you’d think I’d have learned to always release my burdened heart and let God take over while I move forward in peace.  After all, God is right there, ready to listen, ready to carry me, and ready to deal with whatever is stressing me out.  He can fix it all… without my help!  And He has done just that… blessing me richly in so many ways, so many times… drawing me closer to His side, filling me with a calm and quiet peace. Yet, somehow it seems to be a lesson that I must learn and relearn.

All of which reminds me of Matthew 6:25-33 (NIV), part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.  These verses have often come to mind over the years.  “Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear…  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?  And why do you worry about clothes?  See how the lilies of the field grow.  They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? …But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.” 

And as I heed these precious words from our Lord himself, reaching out to Him in prayer, He’ll guide me each step of the way… just as He’ll guide you through whatever you might face on this journey of life!

His Guiding Hand by Linda A. Roorda

Lord, I give You my all

As I relinquish

That which my heart

Has always held tight.

~

You know that I struggle

Thinking I can control

All of life’s burdens

Which tumble my way.

~

You hear desperate pleas

As I try to wait,

While Your very best answers

Conform my will to Yours.

~

At times I struggle

Alone with my thoughts

In a mind doing battle

Within my seeking soul.

~

Where is my God, my protective Shield?

How can life be so raw?

Why does pain and confusion

Keep knocking upon the door?

~

And yet… He is always here!

In a whisper soft … or a vision serene

Enveloping my heart

With His perfect love and grace.

~

For He directs me on the stony path

And plants my feet securely

Upon a foundation solid and firm

Guiding each step along the way.

~

As rough this road at times can be,

He gently carries me safely home,

When oft in prayer I turn to seek

His loving, guiding, and merciful hand.

~~