Upon a Fine Fall Day

A cold, crisp fall day with *gasp* sunshine in the forecast! Off for a walk to my familiar haunt with backpack and heavy book in tow.

Down my street, up a hill, and through a golf course I go. A golf course?

Yes, a golf course.

Amazing how peaceful it can be in mid-November!

The days grow ever shorter this time of year, and the sun drops all too quickly.

Self portrait. With thanks to the tree who so willingly volunteered itself as a tripod. Ah, trees are so patient =).

Arriving at my destination. A tiny graveyard is a perfect reading spot. Ever noticed? The hush, the stillness. Pause. Reflect.

"But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,

"The sky, not the grave, is our goal;

"Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!

"Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul." ~Ho­ra­tio G. Spaf­ford

Wishing you all a peaceful, reflective autumn.

posted by Lydia

Musing

I've been reading a wonderful book by Noel Piper entitled Faithful Women & Their Extraordinary God. It has been giving me much food for thought over the past couple of days!

Tonight, I was reading about a doctor missionary to Africa named Helen Roseveare. This incident, recorded in her own words, has really left an impression on me:

"My tears overflowed in the infinite sense of joy that filled my heart. They surged around us, shaking our hands a hundred times, chatting and laughing...and slowly I slipped to the back of the veranda, leaning against the wall, emotionally overwhelmed...

Suddenly, quietly, there was dear Tamoma...her gentle eyes looking deeply into mine...'Ninakupenda,' she said- 'I love you'- and hugged me!...She'd never met me before...But she loved me!...

From that moment, Tamoma and [her paster husband] Ndugu took me into their hearts...as their own child...It was my first introduction to a Christian family who obeyed literally Christ's command to His disciples: 'Love one another,' that thereby 'all men will know that you are My disciples' (John 13:35)

That a senior woman of different culture and a different language...was willing to offer me Christ's love without first 'getting to know' me, to evaluate whether I was worth loving or not, was a quite extraordinary experience. Nothing else in my first month honestly caused me more culture shock, but this one act- a warmhearted hug...a gentle comment: 'I love you'- this caused me a lot of personal heart searching.

Would I have loved Tamoma with the same unquestioning warmth if our situations had been reversed? Was it merely a matter of the proverbial British reserve...or was it really something much more fundamental, a lack of holy Christlikeness on my part?

'But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us' (Romans 5:8).

Christ loved me enough to die for me while I was yet His enemy. If God had waited for me to learn to love Him before He died, I would never have been saved. I knew that with my head, but when I met someone who behaved in such a completely Christlike way, I was amazed."

This has caused me much heart searching myself. Does God's love shine through me? I am not my own. Do I live my life in the light of that conviction? Musing...

posted by Lydia

Great Is His Faithfulness!

Great is They faithfulness, oh God my Father;

There is no shadow of turning with Thee

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not.

As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be!

~

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

~

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed They hand hath provided;

Great is They faithfulness, Lord unto me!

Posted by: Carissa

Mystery

He is…

…a listening God. Do you believe this?

He is…the God who is everywhere. Present with His entire Being in every square inch of space.

He is…the God who called out to Moses from the burning bush, “Do not draw near this place. Take your sandals off your feet for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”

He is…the great I AM. The God who was to be worshiped with perfect holiness in the Tabernacle less the worshiper be struck dead.

He is…a listening God.

This is a mystery. How can we explain it?

He is…the mysterious three-in-one. The Holy Trinity, the perfection of beauty and harmony.

He is…the One who parted the red sea, tore down the walls of Jericho, and scattered the mighty nations of the earth with the breath of His mouth.

He is…the God who created all out of naught and continues to hold it in place. He is the One who keeps our feet planted firmly on the ground and holds the sun, moon, and stars in their heavenly courses.

He is…a listening God.

This is a mystery. How can we explain it?

He is…the wise Maker who knits the baby together in its mother’s womb.

He is…the powerful Persuader who convinces the hardest heart of sin.

He is…the all-seeing Eye who notices when so much as a sparrow falls to the ground.

He is…a listening God.

This is a mystery. How can we explain it?

He is…the God who not only gives me unlimited communion with Himself, but also the command to draw near.

He is…the God who hears us when we call out for help to fix the car, find the keys, or begin yet another day.

And He is the God who beckons me as a Father and says, “Come closer, My child. Let’s talk.”

He is the God who sees my struggles, sympathizes with my pain, and holds all of my tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8).

He is the God to whom I can run when my heart is shattered in pieces and the weight of sin presses heavy upon me.

He is the God into whose presence I can freely come, even when my heart is full and words inadequate.

And He is the God who knows the inner workings of my very soul better than even I know it myself.

This is a sweet mystery that we cannot explain.

He is a listening God.

Will you ponder this mystery with me?

posted by Lydia

Second-Hand Coat

I feel
in her pockets; she wore nice cotton gloves,
kept a handkerchief box, washed her undies,
ate at the Holiday Inn, had a basement freezer,
belonged to a bridge club.
I think when I wake in the morning
that I have turned into her.
She hangs in the hall downstairs,
a shadow with pulled threads.
I slip her over my arms, skin of a matron.
Where are you? I say to myself, to the orphaned body,
and her coat says,
Get your purse, have you got your keys?
~Ruth Stone

I read this poem in English class a few weeks ago and liked it very much. I have worn second hand clothing all my life (I love thrift stores, garage sales, and hand-me-downs) and I thought this was kind of fun to think about the person that might have owned my "new" red coat.
While the three of us older girls were growing up, we were blessed by dresses hand down by girls in our church. Little girl after little girl wore the same pretty dresses with frills and lace collars. Abby, I think, was even able to wear some of the sweet dresses. Now we can't bare to throw some of these clothes away. Each dress has a story to it, just like this coat in the poem.

Posted by: Carissa