Silent Night by Melissa Darsey

This story was written many years ago. I was driving on Main looking at all the decorations. I passed the Catholic Church...people wafting out with mittens and scarfs about them. I was in the moony phase of being a part of a new church family and quickly wrote this little story as a dedication to the people I love so much. This is still one of my favorite stories to pick back up. I wrote it in one night. "Silent Night" is one of my favorite songs. This is still dedicated to the family unit I have at Northside Baptist Church. I love you guys.


Old man winter shivered across the Earth stirring up magic and snow on the tiny streets of Bethlehem. The streets of the small town glittered and winked with each kiss of a moonbeam. The town folk were all nestled and cozy dreaming dreams that only Christmas could bring. The town fairly twinkled with holly and lights wrapped snuggly around light polls, spilling from store windows, and dancing on window pains. The town, while sleeping, was not quite dead. “Ding dong, Ding dong” went the bells in the tower of St. Mary’s Catholic Church whispering to it’s patrons that Christmas Eve mass was about to begin. The carols wafted from the old church like steam from a cup of hot cocoa, sweet, delicious, and warm.

A man, bent by life, and withered by a journey fully lived, stood outside the steps of St. Mary’s, eyes closed, taking in the sweet sounds of the rejoicing congregation. “Bless them Lord, they so love you, and in turn have reminded me that I do as well. May you be so remembered in each heart this Christmas and Christmases to come.” After whispering this prayer the old man lifted his glistening eyes toward Heaven to behold the clear blanket that had unfolded before him. “What a wondrous hand that has made this magical night.” With a little sigh he turned his back toward the church and began to slowly walk down the abandoned streets. Steadied by his cane his steps were slow and sure, his soul filled up and spilled over, and the song Silent Night came slow and low from his lips. In his right hand he held his cane, and under his left arm a small wooden object set snuggly between the fabrics of his weathered coat. He was certain of his mission and would not quit until it was completed. How still and quite everything was. How beautiful and peaceful. This gentle peace must have been felt the first Christmas.

An hour swiftly past and finally the old man beheld the little church sleeping snuggly on the hill. His heart skipped a beat and his weathered pace quickened. Still wheezing the old Christmas hymn he began to climb the hill. The journey was long and hard, but he had come through a lot worse. Once at the top he turned to look at the town of Bethlehem beneath him, for you could see the expanse of the town from this spot. The old man always felt that the little church was a true reminder of the Shepherd watching his flock. For as the good Shepherd is always watching over us, so this little church watched over the town. He ascended the steps one by one, and with a little push this way and a little tug that he gently opened the door of the little church. The warmth inside wrapped around him like a blanket and he slowly stepped inside closing the door behind him.

Walking to the front of the church he sat in the front pew placing his cane and the wooden object beside him he folded his hands in prayer. With the prayer finished he picked up the small wooden object and walked to the alter, laying it ever so gently in its final resting place. He stroked the intricate face and a single tear trickled down his wrinkled cheek. Eyes lifted to Heaven he whispered one final prayer, “I love you”, and with that prayer he disappeared into the night air.

1:05am
Pastor Woods sat straight up in bed sweat trickling from his brow, chills running up and down his spine. He had struggled falling to sleep and he could not believe the blurry numbers he read on the clock. He had worked for hours to make this last Christmas Day service perfect. He and Martha had had a fight over this very fact. Yet, he struggled with the reason he had awoken so suddenly. The dream he was having was quickly being erased from his memory, and the foggy remnants didn’t seem to be anything that would have startled him out of his sleep. He looked at Martha still snug and sleeping under the covers. He brushed her cheek with his lips and whispered, “I’m sorry.” He had been on edge lately, after more than 45 years of service he was retiring from being Peace Hill Baptist’s Pastor. He knew the Lord was leading him on this path, but he was having a very hard time letting go.

He parted the covers back and slunk out of bed as quiet as a mouse. He gathered his clothes from the chair next to the bed and journeyed into the bathroom to change. Dressed and ready, he slipped past his bed and still sleeping wife and descended the steps of the home he and Martha had lived in since they were married. He took the keys from the hook on the kitchen wall and headed for the front door. A little creak rang through the house as he opened the door. He squinted and prayed that it did not wake Martha from her slumber. The chill of the night air grabbed him and a shiver ran up his back as he descended the porch steps.

Lights on and headed in reverse the old Fords heat was puffing strong and steady. He made a left turn onto Grace Street and began to climb the hill to the little church that he had preached at many a Sunday. Pulling the truck into one of the snow covered parking spaces he turned the key and the cars engine died beneath his fingertips. Opening the door, he stepped out of the truck; his eyes glistened for the church was beautiful against the frosty night. Traveling up the familiar stairs he was quickly inside the warmth and familiarity of his church.

Pastor Woods could not figure out what drove him here. “What am I looking for” he thought as he checked over every pew to see if anything was out of place. Everything was where it should be he thought, and finally decided the stress of the last few months had made him a little undone. He sat down slowly on the first pew of the church and bowed his head in prayer. As he lifted the words to Heaven and extra warmth filled his soul, warming him from the inside out. He gently opened his eyes and his hands touched his wet face. He hadn’t even realized that he had been crying. He rose to leave when his eyes caught the corner of something that was on the alter. He saw that it was a small box made out of cherry wood and beautifully carved. The etching was of a cross encircled by a heart. His hands traced the surface before lifting the lid. Inside was a letter that simply read, “All I have I give to you, Happy Birthday.”

The box not only contained the letter but an old war metal, what appeared to be wedding bands, some old coins, a piece of cloth that smelled like rose water, and a picture of a young boy. Pastor Woods flipped the picture over and read in the pale moonlight the name of Peter Sims. He repeated the name over and over in his mind. Why did it sound familiar to him? “Peter Sims”, his lips uttered the name trying to draw the knowledge that was trapped in his brain. Suddenly he remembered where he knew that name. Several weeks ago a middle aged woman had asked him to come and talk and pray with her ailing father. She said that he didn’t have much time. Pastor Woods had noticed the dark circles under her eyes, but more importantly the sadness in them. With a gentle squeeze of his hand he promised that he would be there. Peter Sims was her Father’s name.

He rushed out of the church back into his truck and fired up the engine. It wasn’t long before he saw the lights of the local hospital. He ran through the hallway and up the stairs, forget taking the elevator. His feet didn’t slow until he saw the number 214. The door was slightly ajar and he softly knocked as he opened it. His ears caught the faintest sound of what he thought was singing. He gently passed the door and saw the Sims family on their knees, holding hands, eyes closed, faces turned to Heaven, and coming from each mouth soft and low was the beautiful carol Silent Night. The daughter lifted her eyes until they met his, and she slowly loosened the grip of those next to her and rose to her feet to greet him. “Oh Pastor, Dad would be so glad that you stopped by. He talked about you often after you left that day.”

Turning toward her family, who by this time had risen to their feet she introduced each to Pastor Woods. Each greeted him with a warm and gentle smile and hello. However, Pastor Woods’ eyes kept traveling to the empty hospital bed. “Your Father, where is he”, he finally asked the daughter. “Dad passed away a few hours ago. We asked the nurses if we could stay a little while and pray. They were kind enough to let us.” “I am so sorry”, Pastor Woods said. “Don’t be, Dad lived a full life, and his death was so peaceful and gentle. It was if the angels came and scooped him up and carried him to the Savior arms.” “I know this might sound strange, but what time did you Father pass away?” Pastor Woods asked with pleading eyes. The daughter began to think for a moment and said, “I guess it was around 1:05 am Pastor, but why do you want to know?” A shiver shot through Pastor Woods’ back. “I think I felt the brush of the angels’ wings as they passed by.” “What a strange and wondrous thing to say,” she said.

Suddenly remembering something important she went to the dresser beside the bed and pulled something from it. “Dad left you this card with specific instructions that it was not to be open until Christmas Day.” With trembling hands Pastor Woods took the card from the daughter’s hand and kissed her cheek whispering, “Bless you and your family dear child.” She leaned into his ear and whispered back, “He already has dear man.” They exchanged Merry Christmases through teary eyes and Pastor Woods found it hard to walk as he left the room.

He did take the elevator this time and as he stepped outside he was not sure that his legs would hold him. He found a bench and wiped a portion of the snow from its frame. He sat down and pulled the letter out of his coat pocket. He broke the seal and pulled the small card from its package. The picture on the front was of Jesus laying in a manager and a star overhead. He slowly opened the card to discover the words it held inside. The card read:


Pastor Woods,

It was great to talk with you today. As my daughter has often told me I am old and set in my ways. I adamantly refused when she told me you were stopping by. I was not ready to let go, and the thought of seeing your face was a sure sign that the end was near.

However, when you came in I was filled with peace and comfort. Your ease and gentle manner put my soul to rest. You never talked at me, but with me. You are the true art of what a pastor should be. I loved sharing old memories with you that I felt long buried. Thank you Pastor for showing me God’s love in a real way. You helped this old man to let go.

After you left my daughter told me of your circumstances and that you were struggling with your retirement. Well, I guess we have something in common. We were both struggling with letting go of a life we weren’t through living. And this fact got me to thinking.

God gave up so much sending His Son that fateful Christmas Eve. He had to watch Him grow in love and strength and honor, and then He had to watch Him die. I lost a boy myself when he was only 7 years old, it has been more than 60 years and it still rips my heart out everyday, and I know I did not give him up freely to save someone else. I’m not even sure that I could do that. Our Father in Heaven gave up so much so that we might have eternal life.

This fact not only makes me trust Him, but makes me want to trust Him.

I say all this to say we have to live life to His will not to our own.

Trust Him Pastor, let go!

Yours,
Pete

PS Remember He gave it all one Silent Night!



Tears fell onto the card blurring the ink. Pastor Woods tucked the card safely back into his pocket, wiped the tears from his face, and rose from the bench. As he walked through the cold crisp night the sweet words of Silent Night spilled from his lips.

THE END

"My Kids"

"A child's life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark."-- Robert A. Heinlein

"He who teaches children learns more than they do" -- German Proverb

"Every child is born a genius."-- R. Buckminster Fuller

I have wanted to write this for a long while, but actually finding the time this time of year is nearly impossible. I have had the privilege of working in many wonderful establishments. I have created and kept strong friendships from each place that I’ve worked. All of these experiences special in some shape or form.

It is quite amusing, however, to see where God puts you. I envisioned myself making a cool million or so while directing and producing TV and film. While this medium still entices me, it does not hold the same love luster feeling it once did.

I sort of scrambled here and there for my niche – my very own something. Well, I believe that I have found that with a humble and giving family. Whether you call me a “nanny”, “babysitter”, “caretaker”, etc… the journey that I’m on now is rich and deep and awe inspiring. I cannot tell you the joy that the entire Scalf family has brought into my life. I have learned so much from Dave and Amy on how to be humble Christians and better people. I have had the privilege in sharing triumphs and failures with them…plus they allow me to LOVE on their kids like they were my own. I’m so indebted to them for their love and confidence and loving friendship – fellowship.

Shall I talk about the kids… Sophie (pictured above) reminds me so much of myself. An older gentleman (Mr. Earl Glover) used to call me “Little Mama” at church. I see this in Sophie. She is soon to be eight going on 28. She adores using her imagination. I truly believe that she will be a prolific writer someday. She loves to make up stories and to draw. She can be a little sassy at times. My favorite moments are when she comes home from school and leans into me or snuggles with me. I love that loving thoughtful spirit in her. She is an affection giver, a sensitive soul. I cannot wait to see what her journey entails.

One of my favorite times with her, and I know I’ve shared this before is when her brother Aiden was not using any patience. I say, “Patience is virtue ALL of the time!” I begin to say, “Aiden, patience…” and without skipping a beat she say, “…is a virtue!” Her laugh, if a spark, could ignite a wildfire…we both laughed while little brother stared in disgust.

I also enjoyed a story Amy shared with me. Sophie was having a rough day, got into it with her Great-Grandmother, etc… She told her Mom later that day, “Ms. Melissa said I was just emotional today.”…LOL! Aiden (what can I say about this picture. This was and overnighter I did for Amy and Dave. We are getting ready to finger paint. I told Aiden that if he got finger paint on his white shirt his Mom would kill me…surprisingly he kept it clean, even though he smashed all his colors together and got it up each arm!) is my little philosopher. I know that his wisdom is going to outshine mine, so usually I’m quite and pay attention when I’m around Aiden. He can have a bit of a temper, but even that comes from a very earnest place. He is never malicious; there is a practical reason for everything he does. We are going to be standing back in awe some day of this brilliant man God is creating.

I have shared so many wonderful stories about him. It is so difficult to choose.

I had him home a couple days when he wasn’t feeling well. He was a delight. He knows how much his sister “H” loves Dora. She was at school one of these days and he said, “Ms. Alissa I wish “H” was here.” I said, “yeah Aiden, why?” He responded, “Because Dora is on.”

I also remember he, “W”, and myself listening to the “Flushed Away” soundtrack he found online…he also has a laugh that will turn you inside out. We were laughing and dancing, and may I just say that “W” & Aiden have more rhythm in their short little years than I will ever possess in my 29…

One of my favorites was the overnighter…he went to take a bath (normally he takes a shower, but he wanted to take a bath)…I had just bought them new shampoo. In walks Aiden after his bath, PJs plastered to his skin. He comes up to me and goes, “Ms. Alissa smell my hair.” As I reach to smell his hair I noticed that it is platted to his head. I touch it and it is full of soap. I say, “Aiden, your head is covered in soap, why didn’t you wash it out?” His response was, “Well see, Ms. Alissa, I don’t know how to wash the soap out, see!” I said, “Come on I’ll dump water over your head.” He giggled at that. At first I had the water too cold and then too hot, but eventually we got the soap out. Then, after drying his head, he says, “Okay Ms. Alissa, smell my hair now.”
“Oh Aiden, it smells wonderful.”
“You want to know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I put both shampoos together,” he says this with a look of triumph.
“That was very smart, Aiden.”
“Thanks.” “H” (her face and name can’t be given for protection, one day soon I’ll be able too though). She is the little girl that Aiden has a death grip on. We went on a hay ride and to a corn maze. Aiden made it a point to protect her…

“H” and I had a few go arounds in the beginning. I wasn’t sure how things were going to shape up. In the end, however, I love this child more than you will ever know. I love her heart. I love her spirit. She loves to be praised. She is truly one of the biggest helpers when you lose something, she knows where everything is. She can be sneaky and definitely has a temper, but I love her honesty.

I had taken her out to JK Café for her birthday. I also had “W” and “S” in toe. I was a little nervous. This could all go badly. However, she was my big girl that day. She helped me by holding “W” hand and staying right with me. She also ate really well that day too.

That same day there were three young and very attractive guys sitting at the table next to us. She just stared at them and flirted with them. They said “hi”, she said “hi” back. These young men were getting a kick out of it. I even said, “H, are you flirting with those boys.” She just grinned. They ended up leaving at the same time we did. Before getting in the van, she proceeds to put one hand on her hip and wave her hand and say, “Bye guys, Bye guys (in her 4 year old voice)” I told Amy, to watch out.

There was one day she threw a WWIII fit. I proceeded to put her on her bed and close the door. Before to long she had gotten off her bed threw herself in the hallway and was howling and screaming. I told her, “H, I’m not going to look at you or talk to you until you have calmed down.” A few minutes go by and it is quiet. I say nothing. A little time goes by and I hear a large sigh followed by, “O’tay I ‘talmed down now.”

Just here recently I had told her to give a toy “W”. It wasn’t fair of me at all. “H” had it first, but I was so tired of hearing “W” crying. “H” gave me some attitude when I asked her something and I said, “Okay Ms. Attitude.” She said, “I sorry Ms. Alissa but I too mad at you right now.” Oh the wisdom of a four year old. “W” (this picture was taken after “W” proceeded to take the full diaper bag, open it up and hand me first the diapers, wipes, bottles, etc… I sat them all on the counter. Now I believe that as long as they are not placing their self in danger I’m going to let them use their creativity. So all the stuff in the diaper bag is now on the table or the toys from that box are dumped on the floor and the box is now used as a helmet, that’s cool…I digress. After handing me all the things in the diaper bag he proceeds to take the now empty bag, place it on the back of the fire truck and ride around with it. He knew from that very first diaper he gave me what he wanted to do with it. Oh the joy of an almost 2 year old.) is the light and heartbeat of the family. He may be a little speech delayed, but mentally he packs a punch. Everyone who sees him says that he reminds them of a little man. With his glasses he absolutely is. He loves things in their place. One day he came and straightened the end table in the living room. He knows that when you are in bed you are supposed to cover up. I threw him on the bed one day and left to grab the laundry in the hall I came back he was covered up, head against the pillow, watching TV. He is all boy. He loves to throw, hit, play, and once again, that darn laugh…those darn mischievous faces…oh boy…are we in trouble.

The boy loves baths. He does what I like to call the surfer move. He lies down in the tub and pulls his belly back and forth along the tub bottom. His little fanny is in the air and he is laughing all the way.

There are so many stories I could keep you here all day. One day I hear a low “uhhhhhh” coming from the back room. I go back to their bedroom and call for “W”, but don’t see him. I look in the closet, he isn’t their. This scares me. Then I see two little feet sticking out from underneath his low lying crib. “W, what are you doing under there?” I get down and peer under his crib. There he is pacifier in his mouth. He had gone in after it and gotten stuck. He wasn’t scared he just needed help.

That same day I’m using the bathroom when I hear a LOT of jabber coming from outside the bathroom door. I open the door and I see “W” pointing down the hall towards the kitchen and he is just a jabbering. I said, “Alright, show me.” I follow him to where his brother “S” is dumping all the cat food in the cat water. “W” stands over him, finger pointed down and wagging at him, all the while looking at me and jabbering…as if to say, “Ms. Melissa look what he is doing.” (May I mention that shortly after this “W” started putting the cat food in the cat water…he learned something from his younger brother.)

I love when he gives kisses. I love how he eats like a little man. I love when he is snuggly. Even when he feels crappy he still has a happy spirit. “S” my little dumplin’ boy (he is the one in the walker). This one was also a challenge. When he first came to the home he was truly inconsolable. His tummy hurt him and he struggled. Go forward many months to a soon to be 1 year old. He still has his moments, but watching this little one grow, crawl, pull up, cut teeth and develop a little personality has been one of the biggest blessings of my life. I love how before he goes into another room he peeks his head out of the room he is in and takes a look around. I love the faces he makes. I love his vocal jabber. I love his snuggly loves.

I remember the first time he clapped. I heard both the boys talking in their room. I go in to get them up from their nap and there is “W” and “S” sitting up in their beds just a clapping. As “S” taught “W” how to play in the cat food, so “W” taught “S” to clap. “W” and “S” are going to be best of friends and true sparring buddies.

He loves to explore everything. I fear that I will have two walkers after the first of the year. One doesn’t care if you tell him “no” and the other one doesn’t understand the meaning of the word…oh boy!!!

Just today he stood at the gate and for the first time when Amy left he cried for her. I was broken hearted, but I also thought how utterly sweet. (It also could have had a lot to do with her being up with him all night.)

He likes to help me with the dishes. I’ll place the utensils basket up on the counter so he doesn’t get near the knives, but he will play with the cups and plates I put in there.

He cries when you leave a room because he doesn’t want to be left alone, and his smile could light up the universe. He is always happy to see you, and would often be content with one simple chew toy sitting on the couch watching TV with you.

These kids have helped to shape my life in ways that I could never ever imagine. This job is challenging, fun, exciting every single day. You never know what’s going to happen. I have the privilege of getting the boys out to see my Mom. I get to shop, do clothes, take care of the house as well as take care of the kids. It isn’t a job to me. It is a joy. As my friend Jill said, “you just go play all day don’t you.” I do. I really really do…

Woman on Fire!

This is what happens when you are obedient to God even when you don't want to be. If I had disobeyed I would have still been blessed, but not transformed. He is renewing me everyday...enjoy...

Most of you who have known me any amount of time might have possibly heard me gush over my church a time or two. I am so blessed to have this body of believers to worship with. They are my second family. It is my privilege to call Northside Baptist Church home. It was a very long and difficult journey to get to this space. I was out of church for nearly two years before I found them – I was extremely jaded. While, we still have our issues I have grown and thrived with this little body of believers. I have experienced the most growth in this little church than the whole span of my Christian life. I know the nuggets of truth planted within my heart with these guys will be an indelible mark on my future journey.

I had the wonderful opportunity this morning to go hear an amazing woman of God speak at Christ Church. Their Pastor is the Father of the children I keep. I REALLY wanted to go. I mean, I had resolved myself that I was going. At first, I didn’t even really seek God about it. I figured, hey, I’m going to church – right? Wrong!

I kept feeling a nagging pull to attend my church. Finally, I felt like God was saying, “I haven’t given you permission to attend anywhere else on Sunday, Melissa.” Oh brother, you know I what I did next right…I argued, “But God, listen, it would be really awesome to attend this church and be able to worship in a different way.” I thought maybe I was just crazy and really He did want me to go to Christ Church. In the end He basically said, “Go to your church, Melissa.”

Alright, fine! Very begrudgingly I sent an email telling the appropriate parties that I would be attending my church.

Sunday morning I got up got dressed and set out for church. When I got there however, things felt slightly different. First, I was completely sluggish physically, overwhelmingly so. I felt ill and frustrated for no particular reason. I will be completely honest with you. I have not been in the Word consistently in a very long while. I go through this ‘chasing after the wind’ crap more than I would like to admit.

I took my dumplin’ boy, my best friend’s baby, Luke, into my arms, he was tired and fussy. I fed him and quickly got him to sleep. I love how comfortable he is around me and that he feels safe enough to fall asleep in my arms. I passed him off to his Dad once he arrived and headed for choir. I was very excited to be at church, yet, I still felt overwhelmingly tired. We sang “Heart of Worship”. I love this song, frankly I just love singing. The choir is the place I feel most joy.

Then, my beloved and endearing pastor was honored. He will be with us for 15 years tomorrow. My Daddy, in his later years, has really taught me what it means to be a loving husband and a selfless man. I’m honored to have such a Father in my life. My Pastor, Bro. Jesse Kline, is likewise a very wise and respected man in my eyes. He is very much a spiritual mentor for me. I’ve always said that I would want my future husband to get the permission of both men before asking for my hand. I value Bro. Jesse that much.

My friend Jamie sang “My Redeemer Lives” by Nicole C. Mullens. It is Bro. Jesse’s favorite song. He was a wreck, in a good way, when he got up to preach.

Here comes the part of the story when you have to say, “Alright God, I get it, you were right, I’m right where I need to be.” The sermon was taken from Luke 10: 38-42

38 Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. 39 And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’[a] feet and heard His word. 40 But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.” 41 And Jesus[b] answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. 42 But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

This is one of my favorite passages of scripture. I have learned so much from this one passage about my own journey as a woman serving the Lord. One of the most recent discoveries for me was that Jesus was not angry or frustrated with Martha for being busy and worrying, something I had thought for most of my journey, but He was broken hearted for her. He loved Martha just as much as Mary. He desired to spent time with her, loving her, nourishing her soul. I can imagine Him cupping Martha’s face in His hands, as one does when gaining the attention of a child, and saying, “Martha (ever so softly), Martha (with tender tears of compassion behind his eyes), you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

The focus of the sermon was the one phrase “But one thing is needed…”

Bro. Jesse shared how emotional and distraught he was about preparing a lesson before God gave this to him. He even decided to take a walk to talk more clearly to God. In the process he saw some buzzards flying overhead. As he reached his point of turning around and heading back to the house he saw a dead cow. As he was returning home he began to count the buzzards and ended up counting over 70. He asked God, “God where did all these buzzards come from.” God said, “Jesse these buzzards prey on the weak, sick, and the dead. They are just flying overhead to look for something to devour.”

So it is with Satan.

Bro. Jesse gave us a list of priorities for a Believer: 1. Jesus 2. Others 3. Me

How often I want to put myself first, and as a woman, put Christ last. Then, Bro. Jesse made a statement that sort of floored me…”It is more important what you do with Christ than what you do for Christ.”

Let me explain what he meant before people start getting their undies in a bunch. God has given us the business of being about others. We are light and salt. We are meant to serve self-sacrificingly for Him, but sometimes we “do for Christ” and Christ ain’t in that picture. I can’t tell you how many times Christ asked me to come sit at His feet, spend time with Him, and I’ve said, “Okay God, yeah, sure, I know, but see I have these things I need to get done for you first.” Very counter intuitive since the only way anything is to get accomplished is through Him first.

Here are the points of the lesson…
1. Martha invited Jesus into her house and then ignored Him (how many times have we done that.)
2. It wasn’t that Martha had too much to do; it was that she allowed the things of this world to distract her from God.
3. We can do nothing in the Power of Christ until we spend time with Him.
4. He desires nothing more for us to come and sit at His feet.

11 Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest, lest anyone fall according to the same example of disobedience. 12 For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. 13 And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.- Hebrews 4:11-13

Here is the juggernaut of the entire lesson: Partial obedience IS disobedience!

Man oh man I needed my steel toed boots on this morning, he was stompin’ all over my feet.

I honestly have been thinking I’ve been doing pretty well. I’ve been living obedient enough. I’m a good girl. I always have been. But, “partial obedience is disobedience.”

The Word of God places us against a mirror as James says in James 1. We can say what amazing Christians we are, what we are doing, we can even have a feeling of self-worth, but Jesus says, “I know you, I know your heart, your being, who you really are.”

The Word of God is a Mirror (James 1), a discerner (Jeremiah), a pounding hammer (Jeremiah), Nourishment for our souls, a guiding light, has a cleansing effect (John 15), and a measuring tool. If we are never in this Word how can we gain the tools and wisdom needed to defeat the enemy?

I better quit ignoring Him and His presence. I better stay at His feet. I better be aware of the buzzards circling.

HE WILL MAKE ME A BOLD WARRIOR!!! Glory be to God!!!!!!!!!

8 Whenever I speak, I cry out
proclaiming violence and destruction.
So the word of the LORD has brought me
insult and reproach all day long.
9 But if I say, "I will not mention him
or speak any more in his name,"
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
I am weary of holding it in;
indeed, I cannot.
Jeremiah 20: 8-9

25 Random Facts About Me...

1. Is a sinner saved by grace. I realize this more and more every day of my life.
2. I love eating popcorn with ketchup. A lovely little thing my friend Mary K introduced me to.
3. Growing up I went to every Christian concert known to man. I had a wonderful outlet for worship. Now, I’m lucky to go to a good concert twice a year.
4. Little House on the Prairie is my all time favorite show. I wept like a baby when Melissa Gilbert wrote about seeing Michael Landon for the last time in her memoir.
5. Had the wonderful privilege of meeting Melissa Gilbert in 2004. It was a moment in my life I will never forget.
6. I do not like roller coasters and am not much of a thrill seeker. I wish I was.
7.Halloween is my all time favorite holiday. Everything about it suits me to a “T”.
8. I LOVE scary movies. I was watching them since I was a toddler. I know I know, not good parenting, but it didn’t mess me up too much. (However, I would never let my kids watch what I watched.)
9. My sisters are the most important people to me this side of Heaven.
10. I don’t like mayonnaise, but I do like chicken salad, potato salad, and egg salad. (go figure)
11. Just give me an accent…Irish, Australian, Scottish, Texan, etc…and I melt. Speak to me in another language and I’m in a puddle on the floor.
12. I love Native American culture…it stirs my soul deeply.
13. I’m a big ole’ Sci-Fi NERD!!!!
14. I think that Joss Whedon and M. Night are sheer cinematic geniuses.
15. My favorite desserts in the world are ice cream and donuts, not together, all though that probably wouldn’t be bad.
16. I grew up in Georgia…a true Southern Bell, Georgia Peach…
17. I love to read and write. (CS Lewis, AW Tozer, John Eldredge, Francine Rivers, anything
Sci-Fi or Mystery and I’m there…also love classic lit.)
18. I love to hike. Nature is truly a symphony orchestrated by God just for us.
19. Fall is the most wonderful time of the year.
20. I will start listening to Christmas music in August ;)
21. Would love to have 5 kids, but each year that passes becomes more realistic… (in an awesome and weird way I sort of do ;)
22. Give me chivalry any old day…what’s wrong with opening a door for a lady, a little romance never hurt anyone, and being polite doesn’t mean I think you want to date me!
23. Cannot abide snobbish people…I will write you as an ugly character in one of my books (MWWWHHAAAAA…my evil laugh it was)
24. Loves Cherry Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper, too bad she doesn’t drink Soda Pop anymore.
25. Can get completely slap happy and laugh for 30 minutes. I think I’m quite hilarious. (I could never imagine me drunk)

I did this 5 years ago and went back and re-read it. I was impressed at how many similar facts I have on here, but I have to say I enjoyed the way I wrote this one a lote better...enjoy...

btw I was not 27 when I ran into the back of that care, I believe I meant 21 :)

http://reflection24.blogspot.com/2005/04/30-ramdon-facts-about-me.html