In Other Words Tuesdays - The COW Sisterhood

“Hospitality is becoming an almost forgotten Christian virtue in our style of life today… In the New Testament, however, hospitality was a distinctive mark of Christians and Christian communities.”

~Alexander Strauch
from The Hospitality Commands~

I'm not sure what it stood for - I figure it meant "Crafts Or Whatever" - but I proudly wore the stamped "C-O-W" letters to church on my right arm. Whatever the letters stood for, to me, they signified a bonding time together with the young teen girls in our church.

These girls love crafting.

We don't have a lot of programs for our church kids right now and God laid the girls on my heart. Since I have a whole room full of supplies that I use to create cards and other items for sale, I invited the group of giggly girls over to the house for a "play date".

No rules - just be careful with the tools and put one thing back before getting another out so I didn't have a huge mess to deal with later. Every scrap of paper, every tool and every crafting supply was available to use.

What a fun time! The girls quickly busied themsleves with projects and just talked all afternoon. When suppertime rolled around, we carried the fun into the kitchen and decorated pizzas.

All too soon it was over, but before heading off to church, we each received the "C-O-W" stamp on our right arms and a promise to do it again. Of course, the ink smudged and got on everything else, but to me, it became a symbol of bonding with the girls.

I became a Christian at age 8, following an episode of abuse. Throughout my teenage years, Jesus was there, along with other significant adults, to help me through the tumultuous teenage years of the 1960's with the expanding drug scene, free-love flower children and the threat of potential global annihilation hanging over our heads.

It's even worse for our teens today. These girls are precious in God's sight. They are the future of our church, yet what is there to keep them pure, safe and strong in Jesus? It will take open hearts and homes where they are welcome to come when they are struggling with today's issues - for counsel, for acceptance and approval, for guidance and love.

Lord teach me to be hospitable - to have an open heart and home where "my girls" and others can come in times of need and know they are loved -just as You have opened Your arms to me and folded me in the safe haven of Your breast.

***
Today's IOW hostess is Chelsey over at her site Joyfully Living For His Glory. If you'd like to participate, simply blog about the quote on your blog page, then visit Chelsey and leave your URL in the Mr. Linky box.

Feel free to visit the other sites and read all the great takes on today's quote and when you visit, be sure to leave a comment for the writers to encourage them.

Fiction Friday - Resurrections

Resurrections
Bonnie Winters
Based on Luke 8:40-56

My head ached so much; I could barely hold it up. The last thing I wanted was to be sick, especially on my birthday. Mother promised to make her special barley cakes sweetened with honey if I would grind the grain. But the stone grew heavy in my hands and my muscles felt like mush.

“Mother, my head hurts.” I tried to ease the pain by massaging my temples.
She lifted my chin and peered at me. “I see the pain in your eyes. Your head is hot too. Here, let me help you to bed.”

The room spun in circles and I panicked as my knees buckled. “Hold me tighter, Mother.”

She tightened her grip around my waist. “Lean on me. You’ll make it.” The firmness in her voice calmed me a little.

After I lay down, I struggled to slow my breathing, inhaling deeply, then exhaling slowly. The dizziness eased, but my head still ached. I wanted to cry, but that would only make the pain worse.

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble.” Mother crooned the words of a Psalm while she laid cool cloths on my head. It helped a little, until I began to shiver and couldn’t stop.

“I j-just w-want to get w-warm.” My teeth chattered so hard that I could barely force the words out. “W-why can’t I g-get w-warm?”

“The Lord is my shepherd...” Mother continued to sing as she tucked wool blankets around me. Gradually, my shivering lessened and I began to relax.
The sound of voices in the room roused me. Midday sunlight streaming through the window hurt my eyes, so I squinted to see who was there. Father stood in the far corner of the room talking with my mother.

“Please, Jairus, we have to do something.” She seemed upset. Why was she worried? Perhaps she needed my help.

“Help me up and I’ll...” I tried to call out, but only managed a weak moan. My tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth. “Thirsty.”

Mother hurried to my side and dribbled water down my throat. “Your father went to see Jesus to beg Him to come and heal you.”

Jesus. Who is this Jesus? His name sounds familiar, but it hurts too much to remember.

A tear formed in the corner of my eye. “Head hurts,” I moaned.
Why does my head have to hurt so badly?
***
Loud crying roused me some time later. I forced my heavy eyelids open a crack and saw my aunts and cousins huddled around my mother.

Please stop crying. The noise hurts my head.

Though I tried to move my parched lips, no words came. I gasped for air, but it felt like a large millstone rested on my chest, squeezing the air out but not letting any back in.

So tired. Just want to sleep. Please let me sleep.
***
Delicious warmth seeped into my body. I stretched, breathing deeply. My eyelids fluttered open, the heaviness gone. My eyes adjusted without effort to the brightness around me.

“My head doesn’t hurt anymore!”

I sat up slowly, pinching my arms and legs to be sure this was real and not another dream. I laughed as I stood, stomping my feet to be sure my knees wouldn’t give out under me. Just because I could, I danced around in circles with my hands raised in the air. I sucked in great gulps of air and shouted “Praise Yahweh!” at the top of my voice.

From far away, I heard the sounds of wailing and mourning, but it didn’t matter anymore. Was this Abraham’s Bosom my father spoke about? I searched my mind for words to describe this place, but I found only one – it was Paradise! I couldn’t contain the laughter gurgling up from inside my heart as I basked in the pure wonder of it all. I wanted to stay here forever.

From somewhere behind me a voice called my name.“Where are you, Lord?” I turned around, searching for Him.

“Daughter, arise.” He spoke with irresistible firmness.

I didn’t want to leave this place – this Paradise – but I knew I had to turn around and go back. I cast a wistful glance at the fading brightness.

My eyes fluttered open.

The same warmth and light I knew in Paradise greeted me, shining from His eyes. Instantly, I recognized Him. “Jesus.”

When He smiled, my heart fluttered with excitement. My whole body tingled with His strength, as He took my hand and helped me up. I felt loved, cherished. As I gazed into His eyes, I promised I would love Him forever.

***
“You were thinking about Him again, weren’t you?” Mary startled me from my reverie as she touched my shoulder.

“I can’t stop thinking about Him. It’s so hard to believe He’s gone.” Tears brimmed in my eyes. I bit my lower lip and willed my tears to stop, but they slipped down my cheeks.

“I know. I miss Him too.” She wrapped her arms around me and we sobbed together for what seemed an eternity.

“When I was sick, He touched me and made me live again. Now He’s gone.” I sniffled back more tears. “It doesn’t make sense. He was a good man. Why did they want to kill Him?” I couldn’t hold back the flood of memories. “Jesus healed my friend Thomas from palsy that caused him to fall into the fire. He made Jonathan feel special when He used his lunch to feed five thousand people. Can you believe it? Feeding five thousand people – with just two little fish and five loaves of bread. Another time, the disciples tried to shoo all of us away. They said Jesus was too tired to be bothered with our childishness, but Jesus called us to Him and told us stories about His Father. He laid His hands on the little ones and blessed them.”

I hesitated when we reached the edge of the garden near the tomb. “Mary, I can’t do this. I can’t help wash His body and wrap it with spices.” I felt the scarlet flush of shame creep up my cheeks. I was a young woman now and responsible enough to help prepare the dead for burial, but... I lowered my eyes and wept again. “He did so much for others, and I want to do something for Him, but I can’t bear to see His lifeless body lying there. I feel like I’m letting Him down.”

Mary tried to comfort me. “It will be all right. Sit here and mourn. When you are ready, you may come and help us.”

I sat alone with my back toward the tomb. Voiceless groans swelled from deep within me, as I covered my face with my hands. When the wave of agony passed, I tried to remember the beauty of Paradise and to imagine Him smiling in that place. Even those thoughts brought little relief from the crushing grief. I missed Him. My heart was torn in two and I had no desire to go on living.

Anger trod on the heels of my grief. I swiped away the tears with the back of my hand. Clenching my teeth, I looked toward heaven and shouted, “Why did You have to leave me, Jesus? I wish You had never made me come back to this life. Then at least I could be with You in Paradise!” I hugged myself and rocked back and forth until the next wave of grief passed.

“I’m sorry, Jesus.” I repented of my anger and wished I could feel His comforting presence. “I know that’s not true. If You had not touched me, my heart would have been dead forever. You gave me life and hope when I saw Paradise in Your eyes.”
“It’s a miracle!” Mary ran down the path as if her hem was on fire, waving her arms. “He’s alive!” she shouted over her shoulder at me as she sped by.

I turned back toward the garden. He’s alive? A shiver crept through me.
“Mary?” I looked back down the path, hoping to catch her, but she was gone.
He’s alive. Is that what she said?

I stood rooted there with my mouth open, hardly daring to breathe as His words came back to me: “I am the resurrection and the life... I am the life... the life...” The words pulsed in my veins, quickening my heartbeat.

Jesus said He would rise again. I heard Him say it. Is it possible?
I had to know. Hiking up my robe, I skirted the rocks at the side of the path and ran into the garden.

I stopped running when I saw a man standing behind the tomb with His back to me. I gulped a breath of air, hoping against hope. “Jesus?”

As He turned to me and smiled, the warmth and light of Paradise flooded my soul. My heart fluttered with excitement. “Jesus! It is you – You’re alive!” I couldn’t hold back the tears of joy – I didn’t want to.

I felt like a young child again. Sniffling back the tears, I admitted my deepest fear to Him: “I was afraid You had left me.”

“My Child, don’t you know I will never leave you? I’ll always be a part of you.” My whole body tingled as Eternal Life touched my heart. I felt loved and cherished, like a child safe in her Father’s arms.

I brushed away my tears and smiled. “I understand now – not even death can separate us. My heart belongs to You forever.”

© 2006 by Bonnie Winters

To read more great short stories or to participate in Fiction Friday, visit Patty over at her site Patterings!

Happy reading and writing.

Today's Quote Is:

“Still, accepting God’s existence is one thing; honoring his command is another matter entirely, especially if we’re required to go back when we’d rather go forward.”

~Liz Curtis Higgs
from Slightly Bad Girls of the Bible~

***

I don't make a very good patient. Following our car accident several weeks ago, I was told to rest for a few days because of the problems I had from whiplash.

Rest? How could I REST! There were still dishes and mounds of laundry to do. My garden was having a hey-day producing squash and green beans that needed to be picked and put away. I still had children's ministries to plan and prepare for. We had bought a half bushel of peaches just before the accident that were sitting there waiting to rot if I didn't can them.

So I went to work. It was slow going - I was having difficulty focusing on what I was doing and had to reread the directions several times in spite of the fact that I had canned for years. The process took me twice as long as it used to and when I finished, I had a whopper of a head and back ache, not to mention dizziness.

I had accepted the doctor's diagnosis, but didn't honor his commands because I didn't want to waste all those wonderful peaches. After all, that would have been extremely WASTEFUL not to mention that we had spent $16 on the box. So who can afford to dump $16 down the drain these days?

No, I didn't listen to my doctor and I paid for it in physical discomfort. I HAD to rest then.

Now, I have to admit I don't always listen to God very well either. He knows the plans he has for me (Jeremiah 29:11). He always plans things out for my good (Romans 8:28). He loves me and wants the best for me, though sometimes the growing/learning process to get through things is painful. I can accept that. I know it in my head.

But my human nature wants to avoid pain and suffering. It directs me to skirt the issues I need to deal with, to run away from the problems or to bury my head in the sand and pretend they don't exist.

Rather than taking His hand and walking through the circumstantial or emotional fires, I try to press on, avoiding them or tackling them on my own. Of course, I end up falling back and having to regroup with Him before I can make true forward progress.

The whole learning/trusting process is like a spiral. Yes, I still have difficulty honoring His commands, but each time He works through the process with me, my trust is strengthened, the bond of intimacy between us increases and I grow an inch or two toward maturity in my Father.

So will I ever fully honor His commands in my life? Probably not in this lifetime. But through the process, I hope to spiral ever closer to Him.

***

Our IOW hostess today is Miriam Pauline at her site Miriam Pauline's Monologue. Join us there to read her take on the quote and to leave your URL so we can read how you feel about today's quote on your blog.

Critter cards

With another round of birthdays starting, I had to come up with an idea for my grandkids' birthdays. Eve celebrates hers in September, Abby in October and Jack in December so I'm all ready!

All the animals are made with my Paper Shapers round circle punch so they're fun to make and super easy too! The wiggly eyes add a lot of personality to the critters as well.



Their mom has a birthday in November too, so of course I had to make one for her too! If you're reading my blog today Allissa, Don't Peek!!!

Counting our spiritual calories

I have been dieting for about 3 months now and lost 25 pounds. It has been a good experience this time around (Yep - I'm a yo-yo...dieter that is LOL!)

One of the things that has helped is that I am logging everything I eat. It's a lot of work and a pain in the neck at times, but now that I've got a list of foods I frequently eat on my food tracker, well, it takes a lot less time.

From the articles I've read, the research shows that those who log their intake each day have a higher percentage of weight loss and more often reach their goal. Why? Because logging their food gives them a sense of accountability - they know what they are actually consuming each day and are more motivated to stay within prescribed limits.

When I first started logging calories, carbs, fat, etc, I was amazed at what I was actually eating each day - far more than I needed that's for sure. Too often I just ate without even thinking about it and conveniently overlooked the calories or brushed them aside as inconsequential. By writing things down, I am aware of how much I am taking in and how much I actually need.

It got me thinking about my spiritual diet. As a pastor's wife, I am involved in church activities and my daily writing routine here at home. But how is my spiritual diet coming along? I wonder if I began logging all the spiritual "calories" I took in during the day and the spiritual exercises I did, would I be a spiritual anorexic or would I be a satiated Christian?

How much time do I spend exercising my spiritual muscles in prayer, witnessing or caring for others? How much of Him do I consume daily through reading the Word and personal worship time each day?

Even if I don't have a lot of time to devote to devotions, are the spiritual calories I am able to consume the milk or strong meat kind? Are they empty calories, nutritionless nothings that aren't able to fortify me in times of distress or despair?If I were to log each prayer heavenward, would there be many prayers or just a few during my day? Would they be the garden variety of "Bless so and so?" Or would they be sessions of true interceding?


That's a lot of tough questions and I'm not sure how I measure up. I know I am spiritually healthier than I was when I first started out in ministry, but I doubt I am as healthy as I could be. So maybe it's time to start logging my spiritual "calories" and exercise along with the logs I keep on my physical diet. That way as I take off the unwanted body weight, I will become more accountable to God to build a healthier relationship with Him and stronger spiritual muscles.

So how are you doing?

Healing Laments

Welcome to In Other Words Tuesdays! Loni has selected the quote for today and is hosting over at her site Writing Canvas.

Today's Quote:

“For at least when we express our anger to God, our wrestling keeps our skin pressing into His. God is still present. When we honestly expose our inflammation, express our soreness, we are still staking our commitment to our relationship with Him.”

~Ann Voscamp~

from her blog post,

Even if He doesn’t: Learn to Lament

***

As human beings we frequently get angry with God - anger for the unfairness of life, especially for the things we have no control over - but He does.

"Why did You let that happen?"we rant, shaking our fists at Him. Or worse yet - the silent anger we hide deep in our hearts so He won't see it; the kind of anger that eventually turns our hearts into an icy bitter rock.

It takes child-like trust to vent our anger toward God - to get all the anger and hurt out in the open so He can begin a healing work. It is a necessary part of our growth as Christians. because if we don't, it will cause a rift in the most precious relationship we have. That rift will continue to separate us until over time, our hearts are as solid as the pillar of salt that once was Lot's wife.

If you haven't read Ann Voscamp's blog post where today's quote originated, I would strongly suggest you do. I love her take on "lamenting."

Several months ago, our Sonrise writing group was also involved in a study about lamenting. As we talked about what lamenting was, we were asked to each write a lament of our own. Though it was a personal thing for me, I decided to share mine with you today because it fits with today's discussion:

Oh God, you have known me since the day of my conception. You have planned for me and guided my steps each day of my life.

When I cried out in pain and fear as a small child, You stood at the foot of my bed with your arms open wide, inviting me into the comfort of your arms, offering me a place to forget the shame of my heart. I wrestled with the fear and confusion each day and with the lies it bred.

My heart said, “You are ugly. You are to blame. You are bad.”

Still you came to me in the night and whispered words of comfort. “You are my child, You are my beautiful creation. You can know my goodness in your wounded heart if you only trust me.”

When my enemy enslaved me, You were there, walking with me , lifting up my soul to the heavens so that his yoke would be broken in my heart. When my enemy stood firm in his strength, unyielding toward my pleas for mercy, my heart crumbled within me.

I wrestled with You when You said no man could serve two masters. I wanted the earthly relationship - to be able to touch and be touched, but that led to pain. I had difficulty fathoming the heavenly relationship, the true touching of the soul and Spirit because it was invisible.Though I loved You, my heart was torn in shreds by the claws of the lion.

Yet will I turn to You, though I cannot see you for You are righteous and true. You love beyond measure, though my heart is confused. You have been a Father to me all these years, providing, caring, protecting and encouraging – all the things a father does and yet my heart cried for what I could never know – an earthly relationship with a human father without shame and pain.

You have been the strength of my heart and my portion forever! I will rejoice in you. Oh Lord, teach my heart to seek you. Teach my heart to long after you. Cradle me in your arms and teach me to know your joy – for you are not a God of shame. You will not break my heart in pieces. You will only build it up and encourage trust. Oh that my heart will learn to trust you fully!

Learning to lament - to beat on His breast when I feel frustrated, angry or hurt has helped me trust Him more fully. It has taught me to be content in Him, even when I can't change or control my world.

Lamenting has helped me to accept who I am and to be confident that I am the person I am because of His working in my life through the bad times. When all the anger, confusion and frustration is spent, I can relax in His embrace and know I am loved fully, unconditionally.

I pray for all who read this today - May they learn to lean on You, to trust You fully so they may experience Your healing, loving touch in their lives.

Join us today - blog about the quote on your site, then visit Loni at Writing Canvas and leave your URL in the Mr. Linky box. Be sure to visit the other participants for more inspiring reading and leave a comment so they know you were there!

An unforgettable rendition of the Lord's Prayer

I saw this and just had to pass it on!


Have a blessed Weekend!