A scan and a question

I remember with sweet nostalgia the beautiful, expressive voice of Ethel Barrett as she retold Bible stories and others, like Buzzy Bee! My sister, brother and I used to listen to these stories on records as children. My favorite was the telling of Elijah and the Still Small Voice.

I Kings tells the story of how Elijah faced a crowd of false prophets and won a huge victory for God on Mount Carmel. But one threat from Queen Jezebel, sent him running for his life. He hid in the mountains and asked God to take his life. He felt alone and spent. And God spoke to him in that hiding place.

"WHAT ARE YOU DONG HERE, ELIJAH?"

In the past weeks, I have celebrated 60 years of life, 34 months of cancer survivorship and, yesterday, a clear brain scan. HUGE reasons to dance and rejoice! But, like Elijah, one threat about a grandchild's health and my own uncertain pains have pushed me to a hiding place, cowering in a corner with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Holding my breath.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, NANCY?"

God's voice was not in the wind of adversity. It was not in the earthquake shaking my plans. It was not in the fire of fear that threatens to consume every part of me. It IS in the sound of gentle blowing on this Saturday morning alone with Him.

Dear friend, there WILL be great, strong wind, earthquakes and fire in our lives. How do we not become distraught and overcome with the swirling elements? One way I have found is to INTENTIONALLY SEEK HIS GENTLE AND QUIET WHISPER. In this season of busyness of the holidays and family gatherings, cookie bakes, and all things "Christmas", I encourage you to be intentional with your time with God. It's the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit that gives strength and courage and vision and purpose.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, MY CHILD?"

I want to be about doing my Father's business! With whatever strength I may have.  For however many days that may be. Yes, and amen.

The First Morning

In the dark of night, the rain relentlessly pounded upon my roof

threatening to break through with force and power.

Water drops fell from my ceiling in the kitchen.

But in my room all was dry and secure.

I closed my eyes and shut out the noise of the storm,

safe in my haven of blankets and warmth.

Morning broke gently with lingering drops from the trees.

I awoke 

to a new day filled with promise and sunshine.

The orange and red and green leaves glistening.

Sun sparkling from the trees and grass.

A sunrise filled with hope and goodness.

A beautiful fall day in my corner of the world.

I breath deeply of this gift and embrace all the possibilities of this

beginning.

Yet, there are many sunrises that are grey

With promises of dark and damp hours ahead.

Yes, they have beauty, a certain tranquility and comfort.

But mornings like this one, ah, they remind me of my

 first morning in heaven.

This world, though filled with it's own beauty and joy,

is but a grey taste of the effervescent morning that awaits.

A morning filled with colors and jewels and joy unlike we are able to imagine

While I'm on this side of tomorrow.

I will make the most of this gift called today.

Even on dreary days and nights.

I will live with the promise of a bright tomorrow.

We must all face this certainty:

This life on earth will end.

For sure and for certain.

I will celebrate the days here

with my eyes focused on the eternal.

The morning ahead where there will be 

no water dripping from the ceiling,

no storms threatening to destroy,

No fear or accidents or pain or death or sickness or depression.

My Facebook friend, Celesta, just made that journey

to her best tomorrow.

"I'll see you later.", I wrote to her.

"You shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace.

The mountains and the hills will break forth before you

And all the trees of the fields will clap their hands." Isiah 55:12

I can only imagine her homecoming party as the trees

clapped their hands.

Her Dad and many loved ones and JESUS welcomed her to her

eternal home.

A place where she is once again completely free to run and breathe.

And celebrate.

We made plans to meet there some lovely day.

Perhaps we'll talk about this cancer journey

and the sweetness of it all,

the lessons learned that couldn't have been experienced

in the smooth life.

Father, teach us Your ways, 

Your plan

in the rainy mornings

the cold, dark nights

in the fresh sunrises

 and glorious sunsets.

So that we can know that You are

 WITH US in our todays

and leading us to our

 sparkling eternal tomorrows.