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Grafted

29 Mar

It was a deep wound,

Intended to bring death,
Inflicted by the spear,
Of a Roman Soldier.

Gaping open,
It released blood and water.
The blood of the new covenant,
The water of the Holy Spirit,
Yet to come.

The precious liquids,
Oozing to the surface,
Were the precious nutrients,
To give food and strength,
To the nation to come.

Inside that wound,
Deep in the side of my Savior,
The wound Satan meant for evil,
God planted a seed,
A bud,
A grafted nation,
A place for me.

That wound,
And the seed inside,
Were anointed with myrrh,
With aloes, and with spices.
Wrapped so carefully,
With the finest linen,
Preparing a cleft,
Of most Holy foundation,
For the Gentile to join,
God’s chosen.

Then came the moment,
When the linens were left,
In the shape of a man,
But hollow and unaltered,
As a message of release.

The moment when Christ,
With the grafted children,
Tucked safely beneath his arm,
Faced Satan and conquered death.

Now this nation,
Birthed in the side of Christ,
As Eve was birthed,
In the side of Adam,
Sat in communion,
At the right hand of God.

Guided forth,
Performing greater miracles,
Exhibiting greater power,
Flowing in the Holy Spirit,
The seed branched forward.

Inside that graft,
With its roots entwined,
Deep into the Master,
There is a leaf,
Turning to the Son,
Preparing to break forth,
And follow the way,
Set forth by Him.

It’s just one leaf,
Of the many branches,
Just one small part,
Of a mighty tree.
But on that leaf,
Is a name,
And that name belongs,
To ME.

olive-branch

Written 3-9-1999

By Linda J Humes

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ANGRY MEN

12 Mar

Angry Man Tattoos

“And in that day thou shalt say, O LORD, I will praise thee: though thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and thou comfortedst me.”      Isaiah 12:1 (KJV)

When my oldest son came home from prison a year ago he sported full arm and leg tattoos.  I knew that all tattoos have a story behind them, but I could not understand what all the faces, combined and linked together with tubes, meant.  I asked my son to explain it all to me; he said that they were angry men linked together by a lifeline.

I found myself studying the tattoos as we watched TV at night.  I didn’t see angry men, I saw something very different in each face.  I saw the artist’s inner turmoil, stirred by years in prison, coming out on a living canvas.

Some faces showed fear, some faces showed pain, some faces showed sorrow, some rage – all hopelessness.  One appeared to be a demon swallowing a child, its eyes stitched closed; childhood lost.

The tubes between seemed to be the tubes of nourishment that kept them all alive and also the chains of incarceration that prevented them from finding freedom and hope.  Years of addictions and bad choices added faces to the lines, banding them together as brothers through their lifeline tubes gave them some small amount of security.  They depended on each other not to sever the tubes that kept them all alive.  All manifested fear of possible disconnection in different ways.

When I look at the tattoos I see the inmates in prison, struggling to survive without losing their identity.  I see the artist’s renditions of the faces surrounding him every day.  I see the emotions he feels himself, flowing from his needle.  Hopelessness.  Aloneness.  Unwantedness.

The sad thing is, these emotions aren’t only an attribute of inmates, but are found in grocery stores, movie theaters, classrooms and in our own children.  The pressures of everyday life are overwhelming people to such proportions that they lose hope, fall to despair and give up on life.

How sad that we, the body of Christ, for fear of ridicule and rejection, keep back the very solution to their problems.  We hide the light given freely to us through our love of Christ.  We crimp off the true lifeline that would bring them peace, joy and hope.

What if we just took a chance?  What if we took a moment to offer prayer to someone in despair?  What if we wrapped our arms around the homeless and shared the gospel along with a hot meal and a warm jacket?  What if we comfort a crying child while the mother regains composure, and then offer to help by prayer and child care and taking them to church.

What if we stepped past our own insecurities and showed the love of Jesus to a hurting world, mentoring another as we do?  What if we could bring hope to just one?  The whole world could be changed – one person at a time.

——

By Linda J. Humes

Written 7-14-2013

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Into Every Hand

27 Nov

Into every person’s hand,

God brings life.

Sometimes they are the children of our passion;

Sometimes the children of our compassion;

Sometimes the hopes and dreams of our soul.

.

And with the honor comes obligation;

to breathe truth, to breathe love,

to breathe hope, to breathe light,

into that life.

.

With the guard of ministering angels, life can grow.

But tempted by the guard of the fallen,

they find anger, they find strife,

they embrace perversion.

.

We choose their angels, in their toddler years;

They choose their angels, in their teens;

All choose again, in the maturing of life.

.

Where have we sent them, these precious lives?

What have we shown them?

What example have we set?

.

Do the angels of our light,

war with the angels of their darkness;

Or do the angels of our darkness,

strive to drive away the angels of their light?

.

Into every hand, God places the gift of life.

Some are the children of our passion;

Some are the children of our compassion;

Some are the hopes and dreams,

of our soul.

Written By Linda J. Humes

10-11-98

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Dear Friends

25 Oct

”Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15 (KJV)

We all have memories; some wonderful, some good, some bad, some nightmare grade. We don’t dwell on those memories, unless we get together with family and friends and the “remember when\s” start up. Once in a while something triggers a memory that takes you back; a smell, a touch, a glance at something similar, or maybe a dream.

I was looking at my one bookcase of books and study materials that remain in my small home. Books have always been dear friends to me. They took me away on incredible adventures, or to a world I would never be able to see in person. They answered questions that no one nearby could reasonably explain. They helped me see into the heart, mind or soul of a person, place or event; some imaginary, some real. They inspired me to think!

If it was a story book or a poetry book, the pages had to stay clean and unwrinkled. No folded corners or marks, except for a date on the front page indicating when I had read it, and my name and address if I had loaned it out. If it was a study book, the pages would be highlighted and notes in the columns and sides of the page of thoughts to remember. Notes to teach from, notes to write from. Books – dear friends and precious teachers.

Those memories that I spoke of are the root of every writer’s story. The memory that started this piece was how much I loved the first day of school. Stepping through the classroom door and smelling the fresh coat of wax on the floor, the stack of freshly sharpened pencils, the inky smell of the tan/brown paper with stout royal blue lines, and a new textbook. The first thing I would do is open the book and put my face deep into the pages, breathing in the rich printing press smell. Dear friends that take me far away from the trials and the challenges of today and into a place of hope and promise. Dear friends that took me places I could not go to and taught me things I did not know.

A little over a year ago I moved into the smallest house I’ve had. I made the decision not to keep a library. I kept my one bookcase of materials to teach and counsel from. I have been on an incredible faith journey since March 1988, when I met Jesus in an intimate and personal way. Books have helped me along the way.

I thank you Lord, for the words you have placed in people’s hearts to share with the world. Words they may never realize made a difference in the lives of others. Words of a tale, words of a concept, words of history, or words of encouragement, helping us to step forward a little stronger every day. Thank you, I am truly grateful.

——– Update:

Since this writing in 2012 I have moved into a much smaller home – and rebuilt my library. Not as large as it once was, but delightfully larger, and hope to build bookcases in my second bedroom to accommodate these books and more to come!!!

Written by Linda J. Humes

10-21-2012

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Crumbs

3 Oct


And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.   Matthew 15:27

—

Living in rural Arizona you see a lot of amazing sights. We frequently come face to face with antelope; I give them the right of way! We have wild flowers that take over barren fields. Chickens, cows, sheep, goats and horses fill the yards as we travel around town. It’s a quiet place, a place to slow down and breathe; a place of reflection.

Working in the city is such a contrast to the area where I live; life is so fast paced. There are different types of survival means in the city, overcrowding, people losing homes, scarcity of food and yet the only portion you can really see are where the homeless line the streets. Survival instincts of the animals in the country seem clearer and easier to recognize, perhaps because of the wide open spaces of the country. Coyotes and mountain lions come closer to the farms when the food is scarce. I find myself much more aware of my surroundings at that time of the year.

One afternoon we passed a small farm where the horses had just been fed. The master had put the horse food into a big blue plastic barrel (a large oval cut into it) that tied sideways to the top cross-rail of the fence. As the horse munched away little bits of grain fell from its mouth. The goat, outside of the corral, got down on its knees and crawled under the blue barrel and fence post, head tipped up, trying to catch the bits of grain as it fell. The goat was hungry and willing to do whatever it could for a morsel of food.

We are so spoiled by instant TV evangelists, instant radio preachers, CD worship music, Ipod sermons, Podcasts; even electronic Bibles. Oh, that we could be so hungry for God that we would put ourselves in danger for just a morsel. What a sweet refreshing that taste would be.

God, open our hearts for a driving hunger that can’t be quenched by any means except time at YOUR feet. God, please take away our “fast is better” mentality. Blow away the chaff, the noise and the distractions of daily life. Silence the words spoken in Your name that have nothing to do with You. Search me Lord. Call me Lord. Help me to come.

—

Written by Linda J. Humes

9-29-09

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Stinkin’ Thinkin’

3 Oct

“. . . for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” Matthew 12:34 (KJV)

✝

God puts people in our lives to strengthen us, encourage us, challenge us and . . . correct us. That’s a tough one – correction. An action word that requires an action (I am corrected, therefore I must correct).

In our home we have a Swear Jar. If for some reason you feel a conversation isn’t complete without colorful expletives – you will visit the Swear Jar. Each transgression will reduce your pocket change by 25 cents. We buy water with the change from the Swear Jar and rarely have to add to the “oophs!” change within.

Most people honor the code, some language behaviors have been changed, some folks pre-pay (no, that doesn’t make it cheaper), and some outright refuse to participate. Over the years we’ve seen kids monitor their friends and fines are paid even when no adults are around.

One day I was working away at my computer and it started to give me trouble. No matter what I did I couldn’t get it to cooperate. “This stinkin’ computer,” I yelled.

Up pops a little voice from behind me, “Oh, Mom, you owe the jar a quarter.”

“What for,” I quipped back. “Stinkin’ isn’t a bad word.”

“It is when you say it in that tone of voice,” replied my 8 year old.

Busted! My heart broke and I was immediately filled with humility. I had broken my own rule. I had allowed the frustration of a day, an hour, a moment, to steal my joy and toss me into wrong standing.

How often do we use “safe” words when we’re angry or frustrated, only fooling ourselves? It isn’t the word we use, it’s the intent of the heart. It isn’t always “vulgarity” that gets us into trouble, but the emotion behind a common thought we feel we have a right to express.

But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. James 3:8 (KJV)

Lord, help me every day not only to tender the words I speak, but to tender the heart and emotions with which I speak them. Help me to be more like you.

✝

Written by Linda J. Humes

9-29-2009

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Humble Pastor Glen

3 Oct

(The Parable of the Little Red Hen)

Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up. James 4:10

Once upon a time . . . a Philosopher, a Bible Scholar, a Theologian, and Humble Pastor Glen, all dwelt together, in the same peaceful church.

The Philosopher liked to sit all day in his fine overstuffed chair and think on what could be, what is, and what might have been, except when his “thinker” became so overwhelmed that he fell soundly to sleep.

The Bible Scholar liked to read and study all day long, for knowledge was the key to his happiness. He studied on this scripture, he studied on that scripture, and he studied about what others thought about this scripture and that. Mostly he delighted on how very much he knew – or thought he knew, anyway.

The Theologian knew all of the religions, great and small. He knew all they agreed on, and all they didn’t. He would pace his library floor and ponder all the concepts and dogmas and how they related to mankind. And though he could tell you what each sector believed – he wasn’t altogether sure which one was correct; so he pondered some more upon that.

If there was work to be done, Humble Pastor Glen did it, all by himself.  He vacuumed the sanctuary floors, and dusted all the pews. He fixed the youth bus, and repaired old leaky faucets. He brightened the church with fresh coats of paint. He even mowed and trimmed the small patch of grass the children loved to play on.

One day, as he was busy at work, Humble Pastor Glen saw a family pass with burdens great and heavy. As he wondered how he could make a difference, a Rhema Word quickened his spirit. Then he ran to find his friends.

“Who will take the fruit of Jesus into the community with me,” asked Humble Pastor Glen?“Not I,” said the Philosopher – for he considered the dangers of walking the street and the possible rejection. Besides, he was very tired (and just thinking about it made him fall soundly to sleep).

“Not I,” said the Bible Scholar – for he had not completely studied the scriptures on “the fruit being taken into the community” yet. He decided he would pick up a book on that subject and see what others had to say about it.

“Not I,” said the Theologian – for he had much too important issues to think about. He thought he might study the major religions and do a survey on what each of them felt about the concept of “fruit in the community.” “Hmmm, that would be interesting.”

“Then I will reach out myself,” said Humble Pastor Glen. AND HE DID!

When the people received Jesus, Humble Pastor Glen became very excited. “Who will help me care for these new sheep,” he asked.
“Not I,” said the Philosopher – for he was still trying to figure out what horrible past had put these “sheep” in such turmoil to begin with. He was sure he really didn’t want to know, and he didn’t want to take a chance that they really weren’t changed at all.

“Not I,” said the Bible Scholar – for he was still researching the benefits of “reaching out” had not come to an absolute conclusion that there was an unrefuted scripture to support it. Only after coming to the absolute conclusion that “reaching out” was scripturally correct in the mind of every Bible Scholar could he even contemplate studying the scriptural basis of “caring for the sheep.”

“Not I,” said the Theologian – for he was still on the survey and the percentages were not looking good for the “reaching out” issue. “Perhaps,” he thought, “I should begin a new survey which incorporates the ‘caring for the sheep’ concept. Hmmm, that would be interesting.”

“Then I will care for them myself,” said Humble Pastor Glen. AND HE DID!

All summer long, Humble Pastor Glen went into the streets and spoke to the hurting and helpless. He brought them food, taught them about Jesus and showed them someone cared. After weeks and months, one by one, they gave their heart to the Lord. Soon it was time to bring them to his peaceful church. “Who will drive the bus to pick up the people who want to know more about Jesus,” asked Humble Pastor Glen?

“Not I,” said the Philosopher. “The nerve,” he thought, “to ask such an important person as me to drive a bus!”

“Not I,” said the Bible Scholar – but he made a note to be sure and study the scriptures on “bus driving.”

“Not I,” said the Theologian, and off he went to mail a new survey. “Hmmm, that would be very interesting.”

“Then I will drive the bus myself,” said Humble Pastor Glen. AND HE DID!

When the bus route was set and the schedules posted, Humble Pastor Glen set up the programs to tend to the peoples’ spiritual needs. “The people need to be greeted, made to feel welcome, shown around the building and given a bulletin. Who will usher them into God’s chambers,” asked Humble Pastor Glen?

“Not I,” said the Philosopher – for he was still sure they were going to return to their old heathen ways and he didn’t want to be around when they did.

“Not I,” said the Bible Scholar – for he was just finishing his study on “reaching out,” and although it appeared that it was going to be scripturally sound, he still had the “caring for the sheep” issue and the “driving the bus” issue to resolve. He promised to put
“ushering in” on his list of studies.

“Not I,” said the Theologian – for the survey of the major denominations on “reaching out” was looking quite against the issue, “taking care” was only half complete, but not looking good, and “bus driving” was still in the mail. But, “ushering in,” “Hmmm, that would be interesting.”

“Then I will usher them in myself,” said Humble Pastor Glen.  AND HE DID!

Humble Pastor Glen welcomed every person with a handshake and a smile, passed out the fliers and guided a few tours to the men’s and women’s “Facilities.” He even kissed a few babies and piggy-backed a toddler or two. He introduced the previous members to the new attendees and started them talking about interests in common. Everyone felt very welcome.

After everyone was seated, and quite content, Humble Pastor Glen preached the most humble and satisfying message about “reaching out” and “saving the lost,” everybody thought so, even the Philosopher, the Bible Scholar, and the Theologian. All in all, the service was very successful.

The next day Humble Pastor Glen pondered ways to teach his congregation about Jesus and the Biblical ways. Evening Bible Studies and Cell Group Mentoring would greatly add to his humble Sunday services. Humble Pastor Glen called out to his friends, “Who will help me teach the Bible and Mentor the congregation?”

“Not I,” said the Philosopher – for that was too below his standing, and besides, wasn’t it enough that he was giving up Sunday morning for church. Thinking was hard work, let someone else do it. Besides, he was tired (and just thinking about it made him fall soundly to sleep).

“Not I,” said the Bible Scholar – for he was much too busy studying to even consider stopping to teach. And this “Mentoring” business, he was just sure he had never seen the word “Mentor” in the King James Version of the Bible. Let someone else do it.

“Not I,” said the Theologian – for every survey he’d completed so far was either against this whole program or had been invalidated because there wasn’t anyone else out there who had even considered such a thing, let alone tried it. He surely wasn’t going to get mixed up in something that might fail.

“Then I will teach and mentor them myself,” said Humble Pastor Glen. AND HE DID!

The church grew and flourished. Many were healed, many delivered. Families were restored and people waxed strong in God’s Word. Those that were the fruit of Humble Pastor Glen’s seed were raised up to lead, and they did so with a grateful heart, for they remembered from whence they came.

Music filled the sanctuary all week long. People danced, people laughed, people sang, people cried, and people drew together in a new and wonderful family. It was a sweet, sweet fragrance in the nostrils of God. That fragrance traveled outside of the church, into the city streets, into the homes of the people, and into their workplaces. It was so clear that God had blessed the church and the congregation of Humble Pastor Glen.

When other church leaders would see the miracles there, they would venture the question of how such a miracle could be. “Who was responsible for this fruit enriched land,” they would ask.

Humble Pastor Glen would always reply, “Not I.” For he knew it was a special gift, sent for the fruit of his labor, direct from the throne room of God.

Written by Linda J. Humes

10-20-1994

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The Gift of Christ

2 Oct

But unto each one of us was the grace given according to the measure of the gift of Christ. Wherefore he saith, When he ascended on high, he led captivity captive, And gave gifts unto men. Ephesians 4:7-8

In America gifts are a big thing – Christmas, Birthdays, Anniversaries, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Graduations, and so many others. As heartfelt as each of these gifts are they are often discarded, given away, or tossed out with time. Few remain as treasured heirlooms as cultures and tastes change. They are temporal.

My favorite gifts as a mom have come in a HUG, an “I LOVE YOU,” a smile, and a prayer. The blessings of love, deep from the heart. More precious than gold. My gifts came in chubby little fists from the front yard or a neighboring field – a dandelion, flowering weed, beautiful rock, a regifted toy car or a project made in school or Sunday school. Treasures of love, spilling over with pride. I still have nearly all of them! These are treasures from my family, but there are Gifts more precious, more valuable, that never fade with memory or time, they are eternal! These are the Gifts of Christ (Ephesians 4:7-8).

Each and every person who has received Jesus into their heart receives what are called Salvation Gifts. These are gifts from the Father for our individual lives, specifically designed for each person and the life they have lived. God gives each and every confessed believer: Access to Him, Adoption into the Kingdom, a Free Basic Life, a Church Family, Faith, Forgiveness, Grace, Healing, Heaven, Hope, Joy, Mercy, Motivation to do more, Peace, Power, Prayer, Purpose, Salvation, Sanctification, Separation from the world, a place to Serve, Sonship, Subjection to the benefits of the Kingdom, and Understanding of the Suffering of Christ. These aren’t earned gifts, these are freely given to every believer.

As wonderful as these gifts are they are only the beginning of what each believer can receive, if they choose to go further in their walk with Christ. Each and every person, whether they become a believer or not, have been called from birth to a Spiritual Gift and a Calling in the Kingdom, it is their choice whether they will accept Jesus and receive the Gifts and Callings awaiting them, working towards the skills necessary to receive them.

The gifts that follow the Salvation Gifts are received when we begin walking out our faith as requested by The Father. As we grow and understand our belonging in the Body of Christ we find ourselves living out the Fruits of the Spirit: Faithfulness, Forbearance, Gentleness, Goodness, Joy, Kindness, Love, Peace, and Self-Control (Galatians 5:22-23, John 15:16). We find our lives are being molded by the examples God gave to each an every one of us and we “gentle” in our thoughts and behaviors. As we walk out the Fruits of the Spirit we see a difference in how we perceive things, how we interface with others, a calm enters our lives and the strife of daily life seems to dissipate (Ephesians 4:1-6, Jeremiah 29:11).

If a believer chooses to go deeper into the study of God in their faith walk, and they choose to receive the Baptism of the Holy Ghost, they may receive one or more of the 9 Gifts of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 12:7-11). These are assigned by God to individuals based upon the depth of their faith and their specific abilities to handle those powerful gifts and accomplish the assignment they are given for each individual they are sent to, when that individual is needing a specific deep touch of the Holy Sprit. There are 3 aspects of these 9 gifts, the Revelation Gifts, the Power Gifts, and the Inspiration Gifts. Within these Gifts are the Gift of Discerning of the Spirits (R), the Gift of Faith (P), the Gift of Tongues (I), the Gift of Healing (P), the Gift of Interpretation of Tongues (I), the Gift of Knowledge (R), the Gift of Prophecy (I), the Gift of Wisdom (R), and the Gift of Working of Miracles (P). These Gifts are given to a chosen group of people, not for their own benefit, but to help build up other church members when they in times of illness, turmoil and confusion.

Some believers are given the gift of a specific Calling, ordained before their birth, by God the Father. These are those called to the 5 fold ministry (Ephesians 4:11). These are those who will become: Apostles, Evangelists, Pastors, Prophets, and Teachers. These ordinations require deep study specifically in the arena of the ministries that they have been called to. The believer working towards this area of ministry must have a the strength, determination, and abilities fitted to the particular position they are working towards. These positions require the Baptism of the Holy Spirit and the manifestation of the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. These are the deepest Gifts and Callings of the body of the Church.

There are Gifts known as Callings. Positions that God has been preparing us to receive all of our lives, even though we may not have recognized them. Callings are positions in the church that meet the needs of every area of the church and the people of the community that the church witnesses too. These are the back-up support positions for the 5 Fold Ministry and serve as a critical foundation for all the 5 Fold Ministry is called to do. This could be a training arena for those who are called to the 5 Fold Ministry, but haven’t had the hands on experience to take a fulltime position. These Callings/Gifts include: Administrations, Apostleship, Celibacy, Charity, Craftsmanship, Evangelism, Exhortation, Giving, Hospitality, Intercession, Leadership, Martyrdom, Pastorship, Prophetic, Serving, Special Graces, Spiritual Writing, Teaching, and Witnessing.

What God has given to each and every believer, the Gifts of Christ, are gifts that give and give and give, becoming more and more valuable each day. They aren’t gifts that we keep, they are gifts that we give away through our every day workings in the body of the church. They aren’t tangible gifts, they are Spiritual gifts, sent through us to a specific person for a specific time and place, to encourage and enable them to take these particular gifts forward to another. Building up each other along the way (Romans 12:4).

These are Anointed gifts of Life, and Breath, and Hope, and Peace, and a Spiritual Assignment in the body and family of God. These are precious gifts that never deteriorate, never go out of style, never diminish or fade. These are gifts assigned by the Holy Spirit as we mature in our faith in Christ, given to us to help others receive their gifts and assignments “all these worketh the one and the same Spirit, dividing to each one severally even as he will.” (1 Corinthians 12:11). All Gifts and Callings, working together through the Holy Spirit, each person given a specific role, if they will receive it, to accomplish the works of God on this earth (Romans 11:29).

Pray to hear God’s Gifts and Callings for your life. Meet with your Pastor or Church Counselor to begin the steps of preparation for where God has called you to. Are you ready? Your Gifts are awaiting! (Isaiah 6:8-9, 1 Corinthians 7:17, 2 Peter 1:10)

The Damascus Road – A Journey Through Ephesians – Chapter 4, Part 3

Written by Linda J. Humes

9-27-2023

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LETTING GO

24 Sep

Linda's Bible 9-10-15

Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.  Psalm 55:22 KJV

I have a big Bible, Giant Print.  The kind that is so easy to read that you spend all of your study time in it, but so big and bulky that you never it carry it to Church Services or study classes.  It’s the big lunky study Bible, with pages falling out, and bled through highlighting (often making it difficult to figure out which side of the page held the vast important Rhema message of the moment).  The Bible with the pictures of loved ones, their needs written on the back.  The Bible with the prayer lists from years back and notes from a special sermon, dog-eared and marked from hours of digging.  It’s the one with the family tree, the births and deaths, the baptism dates, salvation dates, and the day my son uttered in tongues for the first time.

The Bible I use as a pillow when I pray myself to sleep while walking through the valley.  The one with coffee stains made one excited morning when God met our need, when we once more stood high upon the mountain.  The one with every promise underlined and Psalm 23 in the upper left hand column of the right page.

You know which one I mean.  We all have one.  Mine has become so very special to me.  It is the first thing packed in my suitcase and the first thing removed when I arrive at my destination.  It’s the first thing I read in the morning and the last thing I read at night, no matter where I travel.

Recently I took it to a Woman’s Retreat.  Although it shared my study time in the chapel library and made a few trips to the pond, it didn’t go to the services.  It was much too important.  It holds, tucked carefully inside, my precious treasures.

As I was folding it up one morning, it slipped from my grip and dozens of papers fell out.  I carefully, gently, picked each one up and relived the emotions of the prayer requests or notes written thereon.  It was a wonderful lift in my faith as I realized that all but a few of those requests had already been fulfilled.  Years of requests ranging from what now seems so small, to what will always be overwhelming.  All needs and desires met by God’s mercy and grace.

When I had a request which seemed so large to my immediate circumstance, I wrote it down.  I told God that it was too big for me and I was tucking it in amongst His promises.  It was a time of humbling myself, admitting that I could not meet my own needs.  It was a time of letting go.

As I read through though those notes I saw where I had made notes and dates about when those needs were met.  Needs for groceries, met within a day.  Needs for a car, met within a month, free and clear.  Needs for a house, met within six months, free and clear.  Even the desire for fresh fruit when we had eaten food bank canned fruit for so long, met within an hour.  God knew just what to do.  He answered our needs exceedingly, abundantly above all I could have expected.

Is it a magic Bible?  A special prayer formula?  Special anointed paper?  An anointed pen?  NO!  It was stepping back and letting God fulfill the promises He so graciously gave us.  It was getting out of His way.  Our Blessed God who met all our needs, and a few simple desires  –  like the taste and texture of a fresh peach.  It was simply letting go.

Written By Linda J. Humes

6-30-1998

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Whose Flower

13 Sep

“. . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:”   Matthew 6:28

I’m God’s favorite; I just know it.

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There it was, a beautiful purple Aster, growing all alone in a dry, brown field. Drought had hit Northern Arizona and the normally green fields and trees were brown and brittle. Yet there it was.

Its green leaves were brilliant against the brown. The purple flower faced diligently toward the sun, soaking in the warmth. I knew as I enjoyed its delicate beauty that God had sent it – just for me.

We had just moved to a small town, far from our church family of 10 years. I felt small in a large empty land; alone. All my years of ministry seemed to be sitting on a shelf and I was seeking God to know why He had planted us here and what He wanted us to do next.

There was His answer – in a barren field. Bloom where you’re planted. Become a flower in the desert with your eyes only on the Son. There I can use you to touch My hurting children.

Thank you Father, for never forgetting who we are. Thank you Father that you love your children so very much. Thank you Father for gifts, physical and spiritual – just when we need them. Thank you Father for planting me where You need me most. Let me always remain your humble servant.

My, My. Whose flower will I be?

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Written By Linda J. Humes

11/25/2002

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