God at Work in All Things ...

God is at work in ALL things for good.

All is a big word, isn't it?

Big enough to cover all of it.

It wouldn't do us much good if we said, "some" - God is at work in "some" things.

We'd be forever trying to figure "some" out, and never sure if "this moment" was one of those things in which God was at work.

All is a big word, because God is big, and so is God's love!

So, whatever life throws at us, whatever comes along, God is there ... we don't always know how, but we know for sure, that God is at work, in ALL things, for good!

So be of good cheer, and trust the outcome! God's hand is in it, and God's hand is good.

An Erev Purim Story

A wonderful Erev Purim story. Beautiful story..... Makes you understand that things happen for a reason. The brand new Rabbi and his wife, newly assigned to their first Congregation, to reopen a shul in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early February excited about their opportunities. When they saw their Shul, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on  Erev Puirm. They worked hard, repairing aged pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on 8th of the Adar (February 17th) they were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On February 19 a terrible tempest - a snowstorm hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the Rabbi went over to the Shul. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The Rabbi cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Erev Purim  service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Mogen David embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front  wall. He bought it and headed back to the Shul. By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The Rabbi invited her to wait in the warm Shul for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the Rabbi while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The Rabbi could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Rabbi, "she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The Rabbi explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Poland. The woman could hardly believe it as the Rabbi told how he had just gotten "The Tablecloth". The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Poland. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to a camp and never saw her husband or her home again. The Rabbi wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the Rabbi keep it for the Shul. The Rabbi insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn  for the day for a housecleaning job. What a wonderful service they had on Erev Purim . The Shul was almost full. The Service was great. At the end of the service, the Rabbi and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the Rabbi recognized from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the Rabbi wondered why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Poland before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike? He told the Rabbi how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a camp.  He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years between. The Rabbi asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the Rabbi had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Erev Purim reunion he could ever imagine. Based on a true Story God does work in mysterious ways. I asked the Lord to bless you as I prayed for you today, to guide you and protect you as you go along your way. His love is always with you. His promises are true, and when we give Him all our cares we know He will see us through. So when the road you're traveling seems difficult at best, just remember I'm here praying and God will do the rest. Pass this on to those you want God to bless and remember to send it back to the one who asked God to bless you first. When there is nothing left but God, that is when you find out that God is all you need.  Take 60 seconds and give this a shot! All you do is simply say the following small prayer for the person who sent this to you. God, bless all my friends and family in what ever it is that You know they may be needing this  day! May their lives be full of Your peace,  prosperity and power as they seek to have a closer relationship with You. Amen.

It is the Night - from a dear FB friend ...

It is the Night

by Amy Shinn Sayers on Friday, December 24, 2010 at 1:08pm

I wrote this last year in the wee hours of the morning on Christmas-thought I'd share it again with you this year.

Much Love~

Amy

It is the night

It is this night

For many years I have tried to picture the setting

in my mind's eye

And while I have many times been moved by its awesomeness

It is this Eve of Christmas

that God would have me feel the tremendous weight of it all

I see the reality of a manger for a crib

I hear the night sounds of an ancient Bethlehem

I smell the stable sweetness-despite its common use

In these wee hours of morning

I have found that if I allow the intimate details

of this birth story to unfold within me

Then I can also taste the body that was broken~

the blood that was poured out-

for me.

And I am humbled

Who am I to want for so much~

when the One who created me

saw it fitting to allow His Son

to find comfort in a manger?

I begin to feel lowly and unworthy

when I compare my earthly desires

to this moment

And yet God's Spirit touches me

And this is what He would have me know~

It is the night

It is this night

that I offer to you, Amy

The Child I sent~ was for you

And suddenly I am aware

That on this night~

I received the greatest gift of all.

Final Advent Thoughts

As we bring the Season of Advent to a close with the lighting of the Christ Candle tonight, we end a chapter in the story of our Faith, and open anew, the ageless story of God with us, in every respect. Small towns and big cities, rich and poor, foreigner and citizen - for God so loved the world.

May the brightness of the star illumine our darkness ...

May the tenacity of the wise men, who dared to follow a star, encourage us in our journey ...

May the joy of the shepherds impel us to make our own trek to Bethlehem to see what the angels have told us ...

May Herod's anger be a sobering reminder that powerful interests have their own agenda ...

May the flight of the Holy Family to Egypt give us hope in tough times ... and ...

May the promise of Scripture - that all of these many and varied pieces were part of a Master Plan, the fulfilling of Scripture - give us peace and determination to keep up the good work of loving and serving Christ - because God's hand is yet upon the flow of history, to keep God's purpose and God's love alive, and to maintain our life together on this planet, a planet that God so dearly loves

A Christmas Story - A Baby's Hug

From a friend ...

~ A Baby's Hug ~

We were the only family with children in the restaurant.
I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking.

Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.

We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. 'Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?'

Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.' Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man.

The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, 'Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.' Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship.

Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.

I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, 'You take care of this baby.' Somehow I managed, 'I will,' from a throat that contained a stone. He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain.

I received my baby, and the man said, 'God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift.' I said nothing more than a muttered thanks.

With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.'

I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment? when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, 'To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.'

Today Will Be a Good Day

Today will be a good day ... maybe hard, maybe sad, but every day occurs under heaven's watchful eye ... 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

The Presbyterian Layman ...

From my Presbyterian Outlook blog, posted 11.1.10 ...

I'm in a good mood this morning, so I decided to pick up, with trembling hand, of course, the latest screed on the decline of all things PCUSA (The Layman) ... and, of course, the rising stars of the PCA and EPC, and all such related groups. 

Well, I'm still in good mood, doubly glad that I'm not in their camp. It has to be mighty difficult for them, living in a world threatened with PCUSA evils ... sort of like living in the Poltergeist 1 home.

What I don't understand is the lack of joy in The Layman ... just so much anger, bitterness ... and the constant drumbeat of PCUSA's sins ... and a bizarre gleefulness over every perceived "failure" or "fault" in the PCUSA. 

As I read the letters to the editors, I was impressed with the depths of hatred therein. I get the feeling that The Layman and the FOX Network are strolling along, hand-in-hand.

Amazing.

Whatever else this is, it's not healthy.

Of course, it's all defended in the name of Jesus, whom they're defending, or so they think, as if Jesus even needed our help. The Layman clearly illustrates the adage, "With friends like this, who needs enemies?"

There are times I wonder if it's worthwhile to say anything. But as long as The Layman continues to shout is blasphemies, I'll shout out the grace of God in Christ. As long as The Layman continues to claim to have the upper hand on God's truth, I'll protest. As long as the Layman claims to have the moral high ground on life, I'll point out how immoral their mindset it. 

Anyway, I'm delighted to be where I am, and who I am, and I thank God for the grace to be here.