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RUNNING AWAY

27 Oct

“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

I have been most blessed. God has given me three wonderful boys to love, encourage, and enjoy. Each of them has a strong call of God upon their lives, all in different capacities. We call each one by the name God has placed upon our heart – Pastor Jon, Deacon Eli and Chaplain Paul. In the body of Christ, all positions are of equal importance (1 Cor 12:12), this we have shown them so that neither feels of less importance than the other.

Having children called to the ministry is a tremendous challenge. The challenge isn’t in Bible study or scripture memorization, they strive to meet those desires themselves. The challenge is in recognizing the Spiritual Warfare and the schemes of the enemy that tempt them away from the call God has upon them.

Although there are many stories of miracles and answered prayer for each of them, our greatest challenge has been with our oldest son. He is currently a teenager (written in 2000), raised most of his life in Christian education, but placed into the public school system during the 8th grade, when the Christian school he had been attending closed. Placed in an environment he had never been subjected to, the enemy tempted and attacked, stole and taunted. However difficult these trials were, they couldn’t compare to the luring and wooing that called his name.

With peer pressure and Satan’s enticing whispers, he was drawn into a life we never expected. Although the rejection of family values was difficult for us, it was the running away that tormented our family. Where was he? Was he eating? Did he have a safe place to sleep? Who is he with? Why has he left us? Doesn’t he love us anymore?

Doesn’t he love us anymore? Rejection by your own child. Harsh words and accusations fly about. Why didn’t we see this coming? Only prayer brings us peace, difficult travailing prayer. I can’t begin to explain the depth of emotions a parent goes through in circumstances such as these. Love, hope, anger, hopelessness. Faith, doubt, pain, faith. Sorrow, prayer, memories, trust.

As I prayed one night, I asked God if He could understand the special relationship that grows as you hold that baby, child, young man in your arms and protect him from every possible danger that could come against him – God showed me Jesus, sent to earth to be born in a lowly manger, vulnerable to man, protected by the angels; the same angels that he has sent to watch over my son. I asked God if He could ever understand the pain and the rejection of a child not wanting to be near you, after you’ve been his best friend for most of his life – God showed me Jesus, standing before the crowd, as they chose Barabas to live and Jesus to die. I asked God if He knew what it felt like to sit in your child’s room, empty, hollow, except for the memories that line the walls and shelves – God showed me Golgatha, and Jesus’ lifeless body on the cross. I asked God if He could understand the pain of searching every street, every car, looking closely at every child the same age and build, in hopes of seeing your child, even at a distance – God showed me the people at the cross, dividing Jesus’ clothes, cutting into His lifeless body with a spear, laughing at all He was, void of any righteousness or desire of God. I asked God if He knew what it was like, waiting for the phone to ring or the front door to open, just to hear your child’s voice calling again, waiting , praying – God opened my ears to hear Jesus’ last cry, “Why hast thou forsaken me?”

Yes, He knows. He gave His son willingly, to walk in places of evil that all may be saved, even my son. He gave His son to bring hope, life and peace, knowing the pain and agony His son had to feel before it could be done. He watched as everything His son did was rejected and scorned, even as He lay lifeless. Yes, He knows.

Then God reminded me of the many times I have turned from Him. How many times have I turned my back on the family He has placed me in? How many times have I rejected the values and desires He has placed inside me? How many times have I spoken harsh and hurting words to Him, as I ran away to a world of selfish pleasure? How many times have I simply chosen to be somewhere else instead of in the sweet relationship with my Father? How many times have I put other things, people, places before Him? How many others have done the same?

Forgive us Lord, with your unlimited mercy, for all the times we fell to temptation and disappointed You. Forgive me, Lord, for thinking that You could never understand the pain of a Mother. Remind me that you are in control of all things. Help me to trust You and run back to You all of my days.

 

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Written 7-14-2000

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PURE GOLD

22 Oct

And I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they shall call on my name, and I will hear them: I will say, It [is] my people: and they shall say, The LORD [is] my God.   Zechariah 13:9

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I can see you little children,

I can see the tenderness within.

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I see the pain with which you shield it,

Open up and let Me in.

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Let Me strip away the torments,

Let Me free the child inside.

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Let Me open what’s within you,

I’ll show you why, for you, I died.

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If you could only see with My eyes,

Could see the crown and jewels you hold.

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If you could only love with My heart,

You’d know that you’re pure gold.

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. . . .Pure Gold . . . . PURE GOLD.

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Written 3/5/95

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TENDER BUDS

22 Oct

Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. John 14:1-2

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How splendid, Lord, the flow of Your words,

Delightful, they float through my days.

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How precious the promise I carry within,

As I walk and I live in Your ways.

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How tender the souls that search for the joy,

That only Your children can know.

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How blessed the moments of sharing God’s love,

And watching those tender buds grow.

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Written 5/24/92

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ISOLATION

20 Oct

He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. Psalm 91:15

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I have fallen back into myself,

It’s so comfortable there.

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I see the child

Looking for shelter, reaching out to me,

By my solitude – so precious –

Keeps me from reaching back.

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I see the man

Drinking away his pain.

“No, no, no.” I shout,

But from my safe place no one can hear,

They continue toward death.

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I see the woman

At the point of desperation

Mouths to feed, bills to pay, all alone.

I start to reach out

But in my isolation she can’t see I care.

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The pain of others so overwhelms me

That I crawl farther out of sight

To my safe place with Jesus.

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Yet in my safe place there’s a stirring

Scriptures echo in my mind

The rumbling of the Spirit bursts through bone and sinew!

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“Is this what I’ve called you to?” Cries God.

Hesitantly I look into the eyes of my Father,

He’s not angry, only hurt.

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The tenderness in His eyes draws me.

I reach for His outstretched hand,

And step back out of myself.

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In my mouth He’s placed the words that I must take,

To the Child, To the Woman, To the Man.

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The words that will turn their pain to Hope,

Their death to Life.

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The Words – The Gift – of my Father.

 

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Written 2/5/2003

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“HAVE YOU SEEN MY SERVANT . . .”

20 Oct

“I waited patiently for the LORD; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.” Psalms 40:1-2 (KJV)

All my life I have been drawn to birds. My great desire was to have my own chickens and ducks. A few years ago my Mother’s Day Gift was the converting of a shed into a chicken coop. We bought baby chicks and raised them in the bath tub until they were big enough not to escape through the fence openings. We learned that just because a sign says “Pullets” you are only guaranteed that 80% of the birds are hens – we weren’t that statistically fortunate – more like 75%. If you’ve ever had to deal with territorial roosters, you will understand the importance of that.

About 8 months ago we took in a foster-adopt dog named Patches. She was over a year old and had been seriously injured on a number of occasions by other dogs. At first she would just lay on the floor for hours, not moving. The vet recognized that she had an eye problem where the lid of her eyes would turn all the way inside, causing large sores on her eyeballs. After her eye surgery she took on a whole new hyperactive personality. We grew to love her and her silliness very much.

A few days ago I was heading out to put the dogs in the house and let the chickens and ducks out of the coop and pen to wander the yard and eat their fill of bugs – but something was wrong. On the back porch lay one of my little banty hens, dead. I looked toward the pen – Patches was inside.

I ran as fast as I could to get her out and protect my little flock – but what I saw completely devastated me. All 3 ducks were dead. 7 hens were dead. 2 hens were horribly mutilated but breathing. One rooster was mildly hurt.

How could this happen? We so carefully built the coop and pen to keep out predators, but our own dog got in. On the side of the pen was a hole about 12” wide that she had ripped with her teeth.

We latched down all the coop doors and blocked the hole – but she went back in several times. The other 2 hens died that night, only the rooster remained. We thought we had the pen secure again and I opened the little door from the coop to the pen, so the rooster could walk around. He wasn’t much interested in venturing. He was still so scared.

I checked on him every few hours to see how he was doing, and on one trip found a duck egg in the corner. I took it in the house, washed it and opened the egg carton to put it away – every egg in the carton was cracked open, somehow they had frozen on the top shelf of the fridge. Overwhelming grief struck me. All but one of my chicks and ducks were dead. All of their eggs were destroyed. It was as if God was erasing a section of my life.

That night I kept hearing noises and kept checking the coop. At about 2am I finally fell asleep. At about 4am I woke again – the dog was back in the coop and had mangled the rooster after ripping a 3’ wide hole in the fence. The rooster lived until late in the day. We took the dog to a foster agency that morning, being sure to tell them that she should not be placed in a home with any kind of birds. I could no longer trust her and knew I could not keep her inside either as I have a large collection of domestic birds.

I was filled with pain. I could not understand what had just happened. I had lost all 13 of my flock and I had lost a dog I loved. Even the broken eggs in the ‘fridge seemed to be a message. I was so overwhelmed with grief and cried out to God “Why?”

I pray over my home and animals every day. I pray over the land and the safety of everything on it. I stand in faith believing that when I pray, my prayers are heard and honored. I couldn’t understand why my God would allow this.

I prayed and cried for hours – until I heard God’s voice. “Have you seen my servant Job?” What? Was this merely a trial?

“But God I prayed.” Job prayed and even sacrificed for each of his children so that they would be pure before God as they did not live holy lives.

“But God, you said if I prayed believing . . .?” Job said that God gives us all, and He can take it all away (Job 1:5, 1:8 & 1:21).

God and I spent a lot of time together that day. I was so confused and hurt; He was patient. I was angry; He was loving. I finally said “God, if this was Your will, please take the hurt away and give me peace.”

A soft cloud of peace wrapped me like a blanket. The pain slipped quietly from my heart and I felt such comfort.

I don’t understand why we are given such trials of faith. I don’t know why some things have to be so hard. But I know that when we cry out to God, He is there to bring comfort and peace.

I’m already planning my new flock. This time we’ll use heavier gauge fencing. I will still pray over them every day. I will still trust in those prayers. And, if God allows me to be tested again, I will cry out again for peace – knowing in Who’s hands it rests.

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NOTE:  Since this piece I have raised several flocks of chickens and ducks.  It is such a blessing to see them roam around and enjoy life.

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By Linda J. Humes

Written 7-5-07

**The Road To Emmaus”

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WHAT DO YOU SEE

15 Oct

For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. Psalm 139:13 KJV

 

Lord,

     In the drifting tides of time – you knew me.

     You were preparing a way – for such a time as this.

     What do you see in this tarnished,

               broken vessel.

     Why did you give so very,

               very much for me.

     What do you see, Lord?

     What do you see?

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My Child,

     I see the saints – generations passed –

               paving a way for you.

     I see your family – speaking God’s Word –

               protecting your days.

     I see a child growing – strong in me –

               strong In love – strong in compassion.

     I see a vessel of clay – not broken, but repaired.

     I see a tender heart – humbled by a life of trials –

               fought and conquered – through me.

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And I see tarnished, broken vessels –

     waiting for you –

     to breathe hope and life –

     into them.

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I see you, Child – going forth –

     to be my hands, my words –

     repairing those tarnished broken vessels.

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Just as another came to you –

    the night you first called –

               My Name.

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Written 10/20/1994

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SWEET FRAGRANCE

15 Oct

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“I will accept you with your sweet savour, when I bring you out from the people, and gather you out of the countries wherein ye have been scattered; and I will be sanctified in you before the heathen.” Ezekiel 20:41

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I love flowers. I could study the simple beauty of a flower for hours – breathing in the gentle aroma that lifts from the petals. I am completely convinced that when God created the Heavens and the earth He knew I was coming and created flowers just for me!

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I most enjoy the age-old garden variety flower; the one with bugs and bees. The kind you can smell without having to bend down and stick your nose in. I grow them in pots at home, as well as in my office. Being blessed with an office window and a door to the outside, I now enjoy the fresh color every time I have to deliver a memo. God is so good!

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This last Mother’s Day I was given a carnation by a local restaurant. It was a beautiful peach color. It immediately brought back memories of buying carnations from the “Flower Children” in the 70’s and 80’s as they held their street corner stations. I quickly buried my nose in the cool petals, but was surprised and dismayed at the absence of its sweet perfume. The was no aroma – no sweetness.

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A few days later I was given a rose boutonniere, left over from an awards presentation. The leaves were perfectly formed, the bud slightly opened – the rich red petals were awesome – but no aroma.

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As beautiful as these two flowers were, there was a hollowness, an incompleteness, like a peach without flavor, or a lamp without light. The first flower I thought was an oddity, but the second was more than coincidence.

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All that week, as I passed retail flower shops, I would stop to smell the flowers – NOTHING!! “Lord,” I prayed, “where is the sweetness You created with this gift? Why is it gone?”

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The answer came as simply as asked, “There is no fragrance without the sun.”

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These plants had been grown in greenhouses, under artificial lights, in special climate controlled conditions. No warmth of the sun, or cool of the night. No rain from Heaven, just processed city water. No fragrance.

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We, too, are like greenhouse flowers. We can be beautiful to look upon, and give the “Impression” of sweetness from a distance, but without the Son, kissing us every day with His soul feeding Word, we have no sweet fragrance. Impressions only last a moment, but beauty, blessed with sweetness, will remain a pleasant memory for a lifetime.

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The Bible refers to our praise and sacrifice as a sweet savor, rising up to the nostrils of God. An eternal pleasure in God’s memory.

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Lord, let me always be a sweet savor in Your thoughts. Remind me, daily, that without the Son, and the gift He gave, there will be no fragrance.

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Written 5-23-00

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STONE BRUISE

15 Oct

 

Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.  Psalm 46:10

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We often fall into sin by such small degrees, that we don’t realize where we are or how we got there. It’s much like having a pebble in your shoe. It’s a little uncomfortable, and you wish it wasn’t there, but not enough to stop and remove the pebble, taking precious time to loosen the laces and shake the shoe out. Instead, we wiggle or shake our foot and move the annoyance to the side where it doesn’t hurt – at least not with every step. Once in a while it gets right under your heel and stops you cold in your steps, but only for a moment. With a quick shake it moves to the side and you’re off again.

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Sin befalls us that way, too. It starts in our life as something that makes us a little uncomfortable, but we shake it to the side and let it be. Every once in a while it stands up and stares us in the face, but we move it aside again and convince ourselves that it isn’t big enough to take the time to remove. Only, it never really goes away – it’s still there, just in a less bothersome place. And the affects of it grow greatly when we bruise our heel or little toe – then it becomes more and more distractive – yet, at the same time, it becomes more and more familiar. And even though it can be quite uncomfortable, we know we would miss the little annoyance that gives us thought throughout the day. After all, it’s just a little pebble. We can toss it out any time we want. Or can we?

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Written 11-22-2001

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QUIET PLACE

15 Oct

“My righteousness is near; my salvation is gone forth, and mine arms shall judge the people; the isles shall wait upon me, and on mine arm shall they trust.” Isaiah 51:5

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Gathered in His arms, resting In His lap.

A daughter held safely in the tender arms of her Father.

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We rock gently, back and forth,

To the song You’ve placed in my heart.

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The warmth of love radiates through me.

It is a preciousness I feel nowhere else.

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And as the pressures of the day begin to push in,

I will step away to a quiet place.

 

I will wrap Your arms around me,

And taste the sweetness of Your love,

That burns always in my heart.

 

 

Written 6-15-2002

 

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HARVEST

13 Oct

 

“For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away:  But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.” 

1 Peter 1:24-25

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We grow each and every day. What we will be as we grow depends upon our parentage – how we will grow and develop depends on what we allow ourselves to be influenced by.

Just as a flower, a rose will always produce a rose, a lily will produce a lily. But the strength and beauty of the plant is shaped by pure and plentiful water, as well as rich and fertile soil. A beautiful plant will wither and die without ever once producing a flower or seed when grown in a harsh dry area. A simple plant can become abundantly beautiful with special care, dropping its precious seed back into the soil as the flower dies, to produce again and again.

We make a choice – every day, every hour, every moment – as to the type of water we allow to be poured over our seed. We choose the stagnation of wicked thoughts and senseless gossip or the pure washing of the Word.

We make a choice of the ground that our seed will fall into. An arid desert where the children of Israel took 40 years to learn the greatness of God – and even then, only the children were allowed to cross over because the roots of the parents were broken off, but still firmly planted back in Egypt.

We make the choice of cultivating the soil with the rich blessings of God, as well as the truths and laws that give a firm foundation to support a healthy root. We make a choice.

Do we grasp our seed tightly in our hand so that no one else can get to it? Do we toss our seed casually aside, allowing it to fall where it will? Or do we place it carefully between our feet, to be guarded and tended until the day we must go on – and it remain.

The seed you hold is not for you. The seed you hold is not just one seed. The seed you hold is the seed of the seed it shall bear, and the seeds they shall bear, and the seeds they shall bear. Have you prepared for the harvest?

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Written 1/2/99

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