KEY RB#1" FOCUS ON THE LIGHT

Thanks for joining me as we begin a new series in the Land of Abundant Living!  The road we travel together this fall will take a few new twists and turns as we venture deeper into the center of this amazing land.
Oh, thank you for pointing out the first road sign! "WARNING . . . ROAD BLOCKS AHEAD."  I see some smaller writing underneath that is difficult to make out at this distance.  I need to get closer and slow down to read it.   Hold on . . . we'll pull over to this grassy area and stop for a moment.  If I lean out my window and squint I can just barely make it out.
"Patience and stamina are required to continue, but you will be well rewarded!"
What should we do, fellow travelers?  Do you think so?  Are we in agreement then?
Great!  I'm for going on, also!  After all, we are in this Land to find adventures and purpose, right?
OK, let's move on.  Sit back and relax.  I'll tell you when we near a trouble spot.  So far, it's a pleasant day and the view is enticing.  Peaceful hills rise in rounds like a series of cakes frosted with green grass and dotted with purple and yellow candy flowers.  I am reveling in the fresh, gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.
Oh oh, another sign.  This one is easy to read:  "FOCUS ON THE LIGHT."  We can hardly miss a sign that large, but what could it mean?  The only visible light source is the sun and it is behind us.  If I focus on that, we'll have to drive backwards!
Hmm . . . a memory is pricking at the edges of my brain.  Bits and pieces are slipping through the narrow entrance and expanding as they enter, like a flat sponge that expands when soaked in water.
Yes!  My memory is getting clear now.  Let's pull over here and I'lll share it with you.

One gorgeous afternoon last week, my husband took me out for a boat ride on a small, but pretty lake a few miles from our home.  The trip was a wonderful balance of peaceful, serene contentment as we floated smoothly on crystal clear waters near the shore and exciting, invigorating thrills as we sped up and raced through the middle, bouncing over cresting waves.  Enchanting diamond sprinkles popped up in nano-seconds here and there and burst like the bubbles I blow with my grandsons as the sunshine flicked them across the surface.  I was awed and absorbed by the beauty of God's world.
When we finished the ride, my husband towed the boat out of the lake with his trusty, green truck.  As I stood waiting for him in the parkway, I happened to glance across the highway and noticed a cemetery on the other side.  How strange!  We have lived in our country home for six years and this was the first time I noticed the cemetery.  How could I be so unobservant?
I suppose at some point, maybe the first time I took that road, I saw the cemetery on one side and the beautiful lake on the other and, possibly unconsciously, made the decision that viewing the cemetery was not worth my time.  From then on, my eyes were riveted to the waters whenever I took this route and gradually I forgot the cemetery even existed.

Wow!  What a lesson as we begin our new journey in the Land of Abundant Living!  We have choices every day as to where we will place our focus.   Will I turn my spiritual, emotional, and intellectual eyesight to the Light of God's Word and His holy presence in my circumstances just as I turned my physical eyes towards the light sprinkles dancing on the lake?  Or will I harbor dismal "death-producing" worries and fears about possible calamities to come as represented by the quiet cemetery?


"Every single day, things happen to us that we consider good and bad.  What do you suppose God wants us to focus our thoughts on?  See Philippians 4:8:  "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things."
Why do you think God wants us to think about these things?
God wants His children to live with joy, in the midst of problems and to be happy!  He loves us and He knows that He can handle our problems if we yield them to Him.  He wants us to trust Him and go on our day rejoicing!"  (Taken from The View From Eternity by Linda Ruth Stai)

I have to admit, my thoughts and general well-being are lifted when I turn my eyes towards the sparkling waters instead of gazing on the assortment of tombstones across the highway.  So can I expect my thoughts and sense of well-being to be lifted to a higher spiritual level when I turn my eyes on Jesus, the Light of Life, instead of letting Satan, the dark deceiver of death, control my thoughts?
Yes!  All right, let's travel on together and see what adventures await us . . . full speed ahead! 

KEY SB#16: "Go Deep into the Woods . . . "

"Where is the path, Grandma?"Big C turns and lifts his arms upwards in frustration.  "I can't find it with all these trees!"  I tighten my grip on Little c's hand and together we hurry to catch up with him.  My seven-year-old grandson had run ahead in his eagerness to discover the hidden pathway through the woods to the secret place I had promised to show him and his two-year-old brother, Little c.

(*NOTE:  IF YOU WANT TO READ OF OUR PREVIOUS SUMMER ADVENTURES IN THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIVING, PLEASE GO TO THE ARCHIVES ON THE RIGHT!)

"Hmmm, it was around here somewhere.  My friend, Marian, showed me the path a while ago."  We hunted for a few moments.  

"No sekwet pat," Tears start to form in Little c 's eyes.  "Me no see sekwet."  

My heart melts as I try to encourage him.  "I know it's here somewhere.  Let's keep looking."

"Here it is!"  Big C suddenly exclaims with delight.  "Is this it, Grandma?"

Little c's tears evaporate as quickly as they had appeared and he rushes ahead of his brother.  

"Watch out for fallen branches and eye-pokers!" I shout in warning.

"Eye pokers?" Both boys turn mid-step and stare at me with bewilderment.

"Those are the branches on the trees that stick out at you.  Push them away or walk around them."

"I know that, Grandma," Big C reminds me.  "I'm old."  He adds with caution, "But you watch out, Little c." 

"Okay."  His younger brother nods solemnly as he pushed a branch out of his way. 

We plunge on ahead between the large trees for a few minutes when Big C thinks to ask, "What are we looking for, Grandma?"

Just then, I trip and squeal, toppling forward and hitting my chin on the ground.  Now tears form in my eyes as I roll over on one elbow and rub my tender chin with one hand.  

Little c, who is the closest, rushes to grab my arm and tugs on it in an attempt to help me up.  "Gamma," he admonishes me, "You watch out!  Be care-fo."

Laughter replaces my tears.  'Yes, Little c, I'll try harder to watch where I'm going."

I stand up and brush myself  off.  "We are here, boys!  We're at the secret place!"

The boys gaze around in puzzlement.    

"Me jest see twees," says Little c, "Aw awound."  

"Oh, but look, Little c," exclaims his big brother, pointing towards the sky, "That tree is reeee-aaa-lllly huge!"  

Oooh," Little c cranks his neck upwards trying to catch a glimpse of the tree top.  "Goes up aaw da way to hebben!"

"My friend told me that this tree was written up in the Minneapolis paper a long time ago, because it is one of the oldest and largest cottonwood trees in our state of Minnesota!" I explain.  "I brought my camera with me.  Why don't you two stand by the tree and I'll take your picture?"

"Can I take your picture instead, Grandma?  I like to use the camera!" Big C offers.  

"Me help!" Little c joins in.  

"Very well!  Here, hold it just so and push this little button," I give instructions as I hand the camera to Big C.  You may each take one picture."

"I'll take a picture of you, Grandma and Little c can take one of the top of the tree," Big C suggests. 

"Grandma, you are hugging the tree backwards!"  Big C bursts into giggles.  So does Little c.  They hold their tummies and grimace with joyful laughter.

"Well, I want the picture to show how wide the tree is!" I explain.

"Now pwease move, Gramma," Little c requests politely.  "Me take my picture."

"Whoops! Ouch!"  Little c topples backwards onto the leafy ground in his efforts at photography.  "Me not hurt."  He pops up quickly.  "Big twee.  Berry big twee."  He picks up the camera and hands it to me.  "But me got da picture!" A beaming, proud smile adorns his precious face.  

Minutes later, as the three of us sit on a blanket spread out on the grass by the church, we examine the pictures and talk.  

"Grandma, we wouldn't have ever found the huge tree if we hadn't gone into the woods," Big C pondered.  "I wouldn't have known it was there."

"Yes, just think.  I've been here many times during the past years and didn't know it was there either.  I never looked for hidden paths or went deep into the woods.  " I answered him, then added,  "It's kind of like the way some church-attenders are.  Many times I've visited this little church but never searched for hidden paths or walked deep into the woods around it.  Lots of people go to church on Sundays and hear some parts of God's Word.  But that's all they do.  They never read the Bible on their own to discover the hidden truths God wants them to learn.  They never "walk deeper" into God's Word looking for special surprises that God has to encourage them along the Path of Life.  

"I read my Bible everyday!" exclaimed Big C, "and sometimes I read it to Little c, too."

"That's a great habit to start at a young age," I affirm him.  

"And I'm glad you told us about the path, too, Grandma. And the tree."  He thinks for a moment.  "You showing me about the secret path and the tree is sort of like me showing my friends at school the story of Jesus!"

"Yes, God wants us to share the news of salvation, of His great love for us!  That makes me think of one more song, which is a good one to end our summer's journey in the Land of Abundant Living  before you return home and go back to school.  It's a song my mother . . . your great-grandmother  . . used to sing often . . . 'I love to Tell The Story":

"I love to tell the story of unseen things above, 

Of Jesus and His glory, Of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story, because I know it's true.

It satisfies my longing as nothing else could do.

I love to tell the story; more wonderful it seems

Than all the golden fancies of all our golden dreams.

I love to tell the story; it did so much for me.

And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.

I love to tell the story; 'tis pleasant to repeat

What seems each time I tell it, more wonderfully sweet.

I love to tell the story, for some have never heard

the message of salvation from God's own holy Word.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best

Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it, like the rest.

And when in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song, 

'Twill be the old, old story, that I have loved so long."

PLEASE COME ALONG WITH ME NEXT WEEK WHEN I START MY NEW SERIES IN THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIVING!   WE'RE GOING TO RUN ACROSS SOME ROAD BLOCKS AND DISCOVER HOW TO COPE WITH THEM.

KEY #SB1: "DO YOU DARE?"

"I dare you to jump off the rock!"  Seven-year-old Big C shouts at his little brother, stretching out his arms to catch Little c safely when he jumps.
The two-year-old had climbed onto a large stone, though merely a couple of feet high, in the park where we had stopped for a snack and story on our summer trip through the Land of Abundant Living.
Without hesitation, Little c jumps and both boys roll over in the grass with the impact of the fall.  Neither is hurt and they stand up, laughing as they brush themselves off.
I laugh, too, and praise Big C for his good catch.
"Come here, boys," I beckon to them.  They come and settled themselves next to their proud Grandma, one on each side.  I snuggle them and suggest, "Let's sing the chorus of the Daniel song again."
Three voices sing the catchy tune in unison:
      "Dare to be a Daniel;
        Dare to stand a-looone.
        Dare to have a purpose
        A-and dare to make it known."
"What does it mean to 'take a dare?" I asked.
"Jump!"  said Little c.
I laughed.  "This time it did," I replied.  "What do you think, Big C?"
He squishes his eyebrows together and gives the question some thought.  "Well, when somebody dares you to do something, it means you have to have courage and take a chance."
"Is it always wise to take a dare?"
He shakes his head.  "Sometimes it's dangerous.  I know you mustn't take a chance to do dangerous stuff.  But then," he hesitates and looks up at me.  "you might look like a coward."
"That's a risk, too, isn't it?" I ask him.  "Looking like a coward?"
He nods.
"So you have to weigh the risks and see which risk is better to take, right?"
"Yes, Grandma."
"It may be better to look like a coward than to do something foolish and hurt yourself or someone else?"
Both boys nod.
"Me careful," Little c solemnly shakes his head .  "Me no want to hurt me."
"That's good, Little c.  So why do you think Daniel was willing to disobey the king's command and go into the lion's den?" I asked.
Big C answered right away, "Because he knew God had more power than the king!"
"That's right, and he also knew that even if he died, he'd go to be with God forever, but if he turned away from God he would go to hell forever.  So he made the right decision."
"Daniel stood alone, just like the song says!"Big C noted.
"Yes.  Do you boys have the courage to stand alone if your friends want you to do something with them that you know it wrong?" I asked.
"I hope so," Big C says dubiously.  "If I am strong enough."
"How can do you get strong enough?"
His face brightens.  "I can ask God to help me.  He has the power."
"God help me be stwong," exclaimed Little c.  "I open da twunk!"  (NOTE TO READER: YOU CAN REFER TO ARCHIVES ON THE RIGHT TO READ ABOUT THE TRUNK!)
"That is so true!  And God is happy to give us the courage when we want to obey Him.
"What do you think the song means by "Dare to have a purpose and dare to make it known?"
Silence for thinking time.
"A purpose. . . " Big C turned this question over in his mind. . . " is something important I need to do.  Right, Grandma?"
"It can be," I nod.  "It can also be a motivation, a reason we have to work for a good cause or help
somebody."
"What is your purpose, Grandma?"
"I have many, Big C.  I want to be a good grandma.  I work for an organization that helps save babies' lives.  I write and travel to tell people about Jesus."
"I tell my friends about God," said Big C.
"That is a very good purpose!" I acknowledged.  "And like the song says, sometimes it takes courage to make our purpose known.  Because some people may disagree with us and even make fun of us for carrying out our purpose.  But if we keep our purpose a secret, then we can't carry it out!  We always need to consider the "dare" and decide whether it is more important to do what is right and obey God or let other people tell us what to do and loose our self-respect."  
"Me dare do good!" Little c beams at me.
"Oh, my precious grand-boys!"  I hugged them close and prayed silently, "Father God, help them always to have the courage to do what is right, whatever it takes!"  I thought a moment and added, "And me, too Father.  Give me the courage to stand alone for the purposes You give me."

*ONE MORE SUMER ADVENTURE WITH THE BOYS AND THEN WE'LL DISCOVER SOME ROADBLOCKS IN THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIVING AND DISCUSS HOW TO DEAL WITH THEM!

KEY #SB13: THE VICTORIOUS ROCK

On the road again, with my grandsons and I belted in safely (even in the Land of Abundant Living, we need to follow safety rules),  Little c, the two-year-old, asks Grandma to play his CD.
"Certainly," I reply, pushing in the kids' favorite CD with Jesus Praise Songs.  After singing along to several melodies, we come to my favorite, "Dare to be a Daniel."  When the song ends, I turn the music off.
"Why are you stopping the music, Grandma?" asks seven-year-old Big C.
Little c goes on singing as though nothing had happened, "Dare to be a Daniel; Dare to stand a-looone . . . "
"I want to tell you a story."  Little c stops singing in mid-stanza at the thought.
"Here's a pretty little park.  Let's stop the car and have a snack with our story."
When we are settled on the ground with the bright sun shining on us and the soft breeze ruffling our hair, I pass out baggies of grapes and granola bars and begin.
"You both have heard the story of Daniel in the Lion's Den."  Two heads nod intently as they munch their juicy grapes.
"Well," I continue, "You know then that Daniel was a young man who had so much trust in God that he wouldn't give up his faith as the king commanded.  So the king threw him into the hungry lion's den,   but God closed the mouths of the lions and saved Daniel's life."  Two heads nodded again.
"Now when Daniel grew older, King Nebuchadnezzar asked him to describe a dream the king had and tell him what the dream meant.  Now Daniel, of course, couldn't do either one of those things by himself, but God told Daniel the dream and explained the meaning for him so he could share it with the king.
"This is the dream:  The king saw an enormous statue made of gold, silver, bronze, iron and baked clay.  Then a Rock was cut out by God and struck the statue, breaking it to pieces and sweeping away the chaff with the wind.  Next, the Rock became a huge mountain and filled the whole earth."
"Wow!  That sounds scary!" said Big C.
"Wok dis big!"  Little c stretched out his chubby arms as far as he could reach.
"Well, it was even much bigger than that, Little c.  And it did worry the king so he had trouble sleeping.  So Daniel told the king the meaning of the dream, too.  Each of the metals represented a certain kingdom that would appear and rule at a future time."
"God know tomorrow?" Little c's eyes grew large.
"Yes, Sweetie, God knows everything about yesterday and tomorrow.  He is very smart."
"I think I know what the big Rock is!  Is it Jesus?" guessed Big C.
 "Excellent guess, Big C!  Yes, the Rock that broke the last kingdom and filled the whole earth is God's own kingdom with King Jesus Christ as the ruler.  You see, when the time for the other kingdoms to have power is over and Jesus comes back to earth, He will set up a new kingdom that will never be destroyed and will last forever!"
"I want to be in God's Kingdom!" said Big C.
"Me, too," Little c agreed.
"So when I hear this song about Daniel, I remember that story of the Rock."
"That's the same Rock we talked about at the lake," said Big C.
"Yes, it is.  Please sing the Daniel song with me again."
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK . . . .

KEY #SB9: JESUS LOVES ME

"Here's another song I love!  You know it, too.  I've heard you sing it."
I hand the songbook that we found in the old treasure chest in the little country church to my grandson, Big C, and he reads the words clearly, "Jesus Loves Me."
"Is that an old song, Grandma?" he asks excitedly.
"Yes, it is very old.  I learned it when I was a child and I still like to sing it."
"But I thought that was a kid's song," Big C says doubtfully.
"Je-sus wuvs me, dis I no . . . " Little c sings exuberantly, "for da BiBo tells me so. . . " Then he takes another book and sits down to look at the pages and a few pictures.
"Jesus Loves Me' is a simple song that tells how Jesus saves us," I explain.  "That is why it's easy for children to learn and understand, but it also makes God's plan of salvation very clear to grown-ups.
"My mommy used to sing this song to me sometimes when she tucked me into bed at night, especially when I was sick or feeling sad."
"My mommy sings," Little c pipes up.
"Yes, dear, and your mommy has a beautiful voice.  My mommy did, too."  The boys are respectfully silent while I reflect for a moment.
"When I was in the hospital before your Uncle J was born," I continued, "I was very, very sick and hurt really bad.  My mommy and daddy came to visit me then,  and my mommy sang 'Jesus Loves Me' to me there, too. It comforted me a lot, even though I was a grown up at the time.
"Hearing or singing that song reminds me to think about the important things of life.  When things around us make us feel hurtful or sad, or when we are sick, it's good for us to remind ourselves that the only real important thing in this earth is our relationship with Jesus.  And because He comes to live in our hearts when we tell Him we are sorry for our sins, He gives us lots of love, too, so that we can love each other.  And no matter how weak we feel, we know that He is strong enough to take care of us.
"Other things in life come and go, like baseball and soccer games and school and parties.  But God and people are the only things that really matter in the long run.  
"When we get to Heaven, we'll live with Jesus forever and ever."
"Sometimes," Big C pondered, "I wish I could take my favorite toys to heaven with me."
"Well," I think before I respond.  "God has so many surprises waiting for us that are so much more special than anything we have on this earth."
"Really?"
I nod.  "And remember I told you earlier that Jesus said he is preparing a house for us to when He comes to take us to live with Him."
"Oh," Big C's eyes light up.  "I know when Jesus lived on earth He was a carpenter.  Do you suppose that's when He learned how to build our house in heaven?"
"No, but I'm happy that you knew that.  And the things He made while He lived on earth must have been very well built.
"But the Bible tells us in the very first book of Genesis that He made the world and all that is in it for our temporary home here.
"My daddy, who is your great-grandpa, built the house that we lived in by a lake.  He built some other houses, too, and sold them to people.  I don't know this for sure," I lowered my voice as though to share a secret.  "But sometimes I wonder if Jesus is letting him help build my house in Heaven.  Of course, I won't know until I get there."
I sit back and stretch my legs.  "But do you know that there is something you can take to Heaven with you?"
"What is it, Grandma?" Big C asks, his eyes round with surprise.
"Wat, Gamma?" Little c gives me his full attention, too.
"You can take people!  When you tell someone about Jesus and they ask Jesus to come into their heart to live, they will also go to Heaven.  So it's sort of like taking them with you!  God loves everybody and wants us to tell others so they can come to.  And I know you are doing that already."
Big C nods solemnly.
"I tell too," Little c announces.
I hug him and say, "Yes, whenever you sing 'Jesus Loves Me,' you are telling other people about God's love!"

"Jesus loves me, this I know;
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong;
they are weak, but He is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me,
Yes, Jesus loves me,
Yes, Jesus loves me,
The Bible tells me so!
Jesus loves me, He who died,
Heaven's gates to open wide.
He wash away my sin,
Let His little child come in!"

PLEASE JOIN US NEXT WEEK FOR ANOTHER "SONG SESSION" WITH MY GRANDSONS!

KEY #SB8: THE TREASURE CHEST

"I can't get it open, Grandma!" Big C, my seven-year-old grandson, sounded exasperated.
"Here, let me help," I quickly knelt by his side and together we tugged on the rusty latch on the treasure chest we'd found in the old country church.  Sadly, I shook my head.  "Maybe it will have to wait until we get a strong man to help us."
Little c, the two-year-old brother of Big C, stepped to my side and slowly began to tug on the stubborn latch.  To our amazement, the metal cover began to rise.  Big C and I regarded Little c with awe and he proudly beamed.
"I stwong," Little c stated solemnly and matter-of-factly.
*NOTE TO NEWCOMERS:  I AM TAKING A ROAD TRIP THROUGH THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIFE THIS SUMMER WITH MY GRANDSONS.  IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT OUR JOURNEY, PLEASE SEE THE ARCHIVES ON THE RIGHT.
Big C started digging hastily through the piles inside.  "It's only books, Grandma," he sounded disappointed.  "I like books but I thought we'd find something . . . " he fished for a word. . . "more."
I have to admit visions of gold coins and jewelry swam around in my head for a few moments.  After all, what would you expect to find in a treasure chest?
But Little c reached into the chest, grabbed a book and held it up to me.  "Weed, Gamma, weed," he urged.
I took the book from his hands and started to page through it.  "Oh, this is an old song book," I said.
Placing it down carefully on the floor, I began to sort through the other volumes.
"These contain songs that I have sung many times since I was a young girl," I remarked.  "Hymns and gospel songs."
"Him?  Her?" Little c asked.
I laughed and hugged him.  "Some of the old songs are called 'hymns.' Today we mostly sing praise songs in church, and I love singing them with my Christian sisters and brothers.  I think, when we do that with thankful hearts, we give God joy!
"And I enjoy these hymns very much, too."
"But if they are so old," Big C pondered, "maybe they're not much use any more.  We throw away lots of old stuff."
"Would you throw away your grandma?" I asked with a twinkle in my eye.
"Oh, no!  I love you, Grandma!"  He threw his arms around me.
"I know you wouldn't, honey.  You see, some things wear out when they get old and, you are right, they are not of much use.  But people, if they love God, can get better and wiser as they age even though their bodies are wearing out.
"It's the same with music.  Just because the old hymn books are worn, that doesn't mean the songs are not still useful.
"We can 'enjoy the new, but keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold'. . . hmm, I don't think I have that poem quite right, but it is still true in this case."
I examined another book and sighed, "Oh my.  I have so many memories tied up with these songs."
"Tell us, Grandma, about your memories," Big C begged.
"Mem-o-wes?  Tied up?"  Little c looked around, probably expecting to discover another box with a rope tied around it.
"They're like stories," Big C explained to his little brother.  " 'cept they really happened."
"Me wike stories."  Little c nodded expectantly.
"The name of this song, " I answered him.  "is "Holy, Holy, Holy."  Did you know that every single Sunday when I was a child and teen-ager, we sang this song first of all every Sunday morning at church?"
Both of my grandsons shook their heads solemnly.
"Mostly now," I continued,   "I like to sing different songs each week because there are so many of them that are good for us to sing.  But when I was young, singing this song every Sunday reminded me how awesome God is . . . remember we sang "Awesome God" earlier?"
They both nodded.
"It also helped me remember how fortunate I was to be able to have a relationship with my heavenly Daddy because of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross.  Sometimes I would walk into church on Sunday feeling sad about something, but singing this song made me feel thankful and happy."
"Awesome God' makes me know that God has enough power to take care of me," said Big C.  "Lots more power than Superman!  And God is very real, too!  Superman is just made up. But I want to learn your song, too, Grandma!"
"Me, too, Gamma!"
"Let's take it to the organ and see if we can play it," I said, rising to my feet and leading the way.

"Holy, holy, holy!  Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy!  merciful and mighty!
God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy!  all the saints adore Thee!
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.
Holy, holy, holy!  though the darkness hide Thee!
Tho' the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity."

PLEASE CONTINUE TO JOIN US WEEKLY AS WE "EXPLORE" SONGS THAT GOD USES TO TOUCH OUR LIVES! 

KEY SB#7: THE OLD PEDAL ORGAN

"That was a great picnic lunch, Grandma!" Big C rubbed his full tummy.
Little c smiled with satisfaction and rubbed his tummy, too. "I wike stwawbewies."
We approached the big double wooden doors of the little country church that stands only a couple of miles from the lake where I grew up.
"It's a Swedish church," I explained as I pushed the doors open with the help of two eager boys.
"Is my church Swedish, Grandma?" asked Big C.
"Swe dis?"  Little c looked puzzled.
"Well, it just means that people who came to this country way across the ocean from the land of Sweden started this church to worship God together.  When I was a child, services weren't held here anymore except for once every summer and then the Swedish language was still spoken for the service."
"Did you go then, Grandma?" asked Big C.
"No,  since we couldn't understand the language.  My family came from Norway.  But we like to come here every now and then just because it is a special place and honors God."
The boys walked around slowly and respectfully, inspecting the antique, wooden pews and the simple pastor's podium.
Suddenly, Little c ran to the old organ with a beaming smile on his face.
"A piano!" he shouted.  "Me pway it, Gamma?"
"Of course," I smiled.  "Just be very careful with it."
He nodded and climbed up on the bench, patting the seat next to him.  I sat down on one side and Big C squished in on the other side of his little brother.  Little c pressed some notes but no sound came out.  He looked up at me, frustrated.
"This is an organ, not a piano," I explained.  "And it won't make a sound unless the pedals are pushed.
The boys looked down to the pedals.
"Feet don't go," Little c was trying hard to stretch his chubby legs to the floor.
Big C quickly knelt down on the floor and began to push the two large pedals alternately with vigor.
"Now try it, Little c," he spoke with encouragement.
When Little c pressed the next note,  a tuneful sound was heard and his mouth opened wide in amazement.
"Tank oo," he told his kind and helpful brother.
"As Little c continued to play, the notes began to turn into real praise songs that we recognized, and when Big C took a break from pedal-pushing, the organ continued to play!
"I didn't know Little c could play real songs," Big C said with awe.
"Well, remember Boys, we are in the Land of Abundant Living!" I said.  "Strange and wonderful things can happen here!"
We started to sing the words which all came easily to our minds, even to Little c's.
We went from song to song, without a pause:
"Shine, Jesus, shine; fill this land with the Fa-ther's glory!"  Big C's face shown with delight.
"How majestic is Your Name in all the earth!" I sang with power.
"Grandma, I've never heard you sing so good!" exclaimed Big C.
"Remember, this is the Land of Abundant Life," I reminded him again.
Little c blasted out the words of praise, "He is ex-awe-ted!  The King is ex-awe-ted on hi!  I pwai-ai-sse Him!"
Together we finished with "I could sing of Your love forever!" Then, a refreshed quiet settled on our little group.
"Grandma," Big C looked up at me.  "This is just like real church!  We sing those songs in our church!"
"Yes, Big C.  This is what church is.  Today we studied our Bible together while we had our picnic lunch and now we are worshipping God together.
"Having church is God's people getting together to learn about God and worship Him."
"Pway." Little c contributed.
"Yes, that is very important, too, Little c."  We bowed our heads and each talked to God.
Opening his eyes, Big C spotted something in the corner that had gone unnoticed until now.
"It's a treasure chest!" he exclaimed.  Both boys ran to see what was in it.  I couldn't recall ever having seen it here before.  "But,"  I reminded myself with a smile, "this is, of course, the Land of Abundant Life.  Strange and wonderful things can happen here."

Please join us next week as we find out what is in the Treasure Chest!

KEY # SB5: THE WORLD IS MINE!

I found the poem!  I've been searching for it and praying to find it for some time now, so I decided that today must be the appropriate time to print it!  Last week's blog was on a "New Song"  and I am continuing on with the theme of praise.
My mother posted this poem on the wall in our kitchen when was growing up, and I think of it every now and then when I am tempted to sink into the Dangerous Mire of the Malady of Discontent.
How can I ever, in this wonderful Land of Abundant Living, submit myself to such a disastrous state?

"The World is Mine" by Unknown Author  (I changed one word because the modern meaning has a different connotation than it did when this poem was composed.)
Today upon a bus, I saw a lovely maid with golden hair.
I envied her, she seemed so free;
I wished that I might be as fair.
And then, when suddenly she rose to leave,
I saw her hobble down the aisle.
She had one foot and wore a crutch
But as she passed, a smile.
Oh, God, forgive me when I whine!
I have two feet; the world is mine!

And when I stopped to buy some sweets
The lad who sold them had such charm
That when he gave my change to me
I gently grasped his out-stretched arm.
I talked to him and told him that
His smile had brightened up my mind.
He said to me, "It's nice to talk with you.
You see," he meekly said, "I'm blind."
Oh God, forgive me when I whine!  
I have two eyes; the world is mine!


Then walking down the street I saw a
Little boy with eyes of blue.
He stood and watched the others play;
It seemed he knew not what to do.
I stopped a moment and then I said,
"Why don't you join the others, dear?"
He looked ahead without a word;
And then I knew he could not hear.
Oh God, forgive me when I whine!  
I have two ears; the world is mine!

With feet to take me where I go
With eyes to see the sun aglow
With ears to hear what I want to know
Oh God forgive me when I whine!
I'm blessed indeed; the world is mine!


Please join me next week when I pick up my two grandsons for an adventurous ride through the Land of Abundant Living!

KEY #H2: IF MY HOUSE HAD TO BE PERFECT . . .

"If my house had to be perfect
     to invite you in,
We'd be alone all the time,
     what a bore; what a sin!
Welcome, come in,
     we're glad you're here,
Whether you came
     from far or near.
A meal, a visit,
     an overnight stay.
You're part of the family,
     come what may.
Dust, dirty dishes,
     no gleam on the silver,
This isn't a showplace,
     it's home, we live here.
So take off your shoes,
     put up your feet,
I'll make the coffee,
     just have a seat.
(Poem written by a dear friend of mine, who wishes to remain anonymous)

When I was growing up in the country, people would just drop in at any time during the day to visit.  No one seemed to care if the house was in order or not.  Most of our neighbors were farm people, and it was generally understood that cooking and baking food for the men workers took top priority, over cleaning,  in the chores of the household.  They had to keep those men fit and full of energy for their hard field work!
We were not farm people at that time and my mother (and me!) faithfully cleaned our house every Saturday or thereabouts for Sunday, the Lord's day, and more frequently for expected company.  She did never once missed the deeper cleaning chores of spring cleaning.  In fact, my grandmother even washed all her woodwork weekly!  My grandmother and mother enjoyed a clean house, and so do I!
But when a neighbor or friend dropped in, I don't remember ever hearing my mom apologize for the state of semi-disorganization it was in at that particular time.  People knew that houses were to live in . . . to do projects in . . . to relax and play in. . .
When I moved to the Minneapolis area in 1985, I was struck by the difference of viewpoint regarding hospitality.  Suddenly, it seemed as though the main priority was the appearance of one's house.  I delighted in decorating my new home and tried to keep it clean, but quickly learned to feel embarrassed and apologetic when someone dropped in unexpectedly and my home was not spotless.  I found wonderful, gracious friends who didn't seem to mind if my house was not up to par but my newfound attitude seriously affected my view of the practice of hospitality.  I do appreciate the modern custom of calling first when convenient (that is, if you want to find me fully dressed!)  Some days, I have words on my mind that need to get down on paper immediately before they fly away forever, so I've been known to begin my day at the computer in my furry lavender bathrobe with my hair undone.  So you can keep calling ahead whenever possible!  :)  But if I had to keep my house in ship shape presentation at all times, I would never accomplish anything else.
My husband, on the other hand, still invites people to "drop in"any time.  He is very comfortable with that.  I truly enjoy having people over, but have been known to struggle with "panic attacks" involving furious activity at the prospect that leave him bewildered.  Can anyone relate???  I do hope so!!!
I've been wondering about God's view on the particular practice of hospitality.  So I decided to delve into God's Word to see what He had to say about it.
Here are a few passages I found:
In Romans 12:13, "practicing hospitality" is listed as one of the gifts of the Spirit.
In 1 Timothy 3:2, where Paul is listing the qualifications for "overseers"(deacons, elders, etc.) of the church, he states that "an overseer must be . . . hospitable."  This is also affirmed in Titus 1:8.
In 1 Peter 4:9, all Christians are admonished to "Be hospitable to one another without complaint." "Without complaint?"  Hmmm . . . without fear of embarrassment?
During Old Testament times, before Jesus came to earth, hospitality was considered so vital that it was a regular practice to invite traveling strangers into one's home.  It was viewed as shameful to allow a stranger passing through town to spend the night in the town square with no invitation for a place to sleep.
In the New Testament, we see that Jesus was often at the home of Mary and Martha, possibility to seek a respite from the crowds, or simply to enjoy the companionship of dear friends.
Breaking bread together as Christians was a valued costume.  Hearts and minds were often opened and made vulnerable over a meal, or simply coffee or tea.  That is still true today.
Hebrews 13:2 reads, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."  Now isn't that an intriguing thought!?!  Although, I do admit in this day and culture, safety issues must unfortunately be considered.  I never unlock the door to a strangers when my husband is not available!  Although we always need to be open to God's leading in a particular situation.
Anyway, it seems to me that God still places a high value on the practice of hospitality and expect us to make good use of it today.  
So what does this all mean to me . . . and you?
I enjoy decorating my house and appreciate it more when things are freshly clean and organized.  But I need to get over the panicky feeling of hearing company is coming and I'm not prepared or don't foresee the time to do so.
But in spite of my occasional lapses into frantic activity, I love to have people visit us!  I love to open up our "Stai Bed and Breakfast" for treasured family and friends!  My own feelings regarding the state of my house are just that  . . my own feelings.  Of pride, perhaps . . . not good . . . although I do want to honor my guests with comfortable, clean surroundings.  That is truly a heart desire of mine.
One day, many years ago, when our family had moved to a Minneapolis suburb, we were looking for a church.  It was a Saturday morning.  Our kids were occupied elsewhere, so my husband and I were home alone.  Now Saturday tends to be the day I do my weekly cleaning.  So my house was still awaiting attention in this area . . . with a husband, dogs, and three kids, need I say more???  Gary (my husband) was sick, so he was still in his pajamas, with hair uncombed.  And our washing machine chose that day to refuse to function and carry out it's regular duties.  So Gary was in the basement working on it.  I was in my cleaning grubbies with a bandana scarf tied over my hair, planning to clean first and wash up later.    For some reason, Gary had hauled his huge, oversize shop vacuum cleaner up to the entrance hall of our split level home, where it stood imposingly by the front door.  I had just begun to sweep that same hall, gathering the dirt together in one prominent spot, when the doorbell rang.  Gary came up the basement stairs as I threw the front door open to find the pastor of a church we had recently visited standing there with a friendly smile on his face . . . properly dressed in Sunday clothes, of course!
Utterly humiliated, I immediately started apologizing and explaining, "I'm so sorry, Gary is sick and our washer broke down, I'm cleaning, we didn't expect you (which I could have assumed was obvious!) . . . "
He just looked around at us and calmed remarked, "That's all right.  This is how you live."
I had all I could do to restrain my hands from gripping his shoulders, shaking him and responding, "NO!  This is NOT how we live!  This is an extraordinarily BAD DAY!"  Since Gary was sick, the pastor didn't stay long, and I don't think we returned to his church.  The dear man meant well, but his unannounced visit was more than I could handle that day!
In my opinion, the Hospitality Poem (above) fits well with God's point of view.  He must have intended us to invite people into our homes not to share perfection (which isn't the case anyway), but to share our lives, to relate as real people living honestly before each other, to extend the warmth of understanding and companionship, and help to draw others closer to Jesus, the One who truly and perfectly loves.
So Lord, please forgive me for my pride and help me to handle the unexpected more graciously.  And also would You please help me manage my home a bit more effectively so I can appreciate Your daily surprises as a loving child of Yours would be expected to do?
Thanks for listening, friends and strangers!  May we all be gracious to one another and to each other's homes!
Tune in next week for some of my personal Hospitality Bloopers!  And we'll finish this series the following week with Hospitality Hints from Friends!

KEY #H1: THE DAY I BURNED MY "JOY OF HOUSEKEEPING" BOOK

Welcome to my four week series on Hospitality!  I'd like to begin with a little story that I wrote when my two oldest children were little.  I shared this recently at a women's retreat and I think it fits nicely here as one example of the frustration I have encountered trying to live up to the hospitality standard I have set for myself.  More on that next week . . . today we will just share a laugh at my expense!  :)
"THE DAY I BURNED MY 'JOY OF HOUSEKEEPING' BOOK"
The day started normally enough.  It was the middle of winter.  I lived in the country and had two adorable children, my five-year-old daughter E, and her younger brother, K, a year-and-a-half old toddler.  Blizzard after blizzard had dumped their frigid loads of snow outside our home, so I had been forced to remain inside with my two children day after day for what seemed like forever.  And since we lived quite a ways from town, my social life had plummeted to below zero along with the outside temperatures.  And yes, I was well into a heavy onset of Cabin Fever.
My normally adorable children were losing some of their charm, the wood stove was roaring and, nearly every time I turned around, K had popped another wood chip into his mouth.
The one bright spot in my day was the fact that we were expecting company that evening.  I had offered to host a church committee meeting and was eagerly anticipating the welcome social interlude.
Of course, I needed some quality time to get my house presentable, so I took play dough out of the cupboard with which to occupy E and K.  With both children contentedly playing at the kitchen table, I grabbed my rag and vacuum cleaner and attacked the dust and dirt.
"Mommy!"  A bone chilling scream interrupted me ten minutes later.  Rushing into the kitchen, I found E extremely upset.  "K got play dough in my eye!"  she yelled.
Sure enough.  There was a tiny blue spot on the white part of her eyeball.
"How on earth did he do that?" I tried to assess the situation.  "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head and peered up at me solemnly.
K finished rolling his little blue worms and trotted off innocently to find more wood chips.
I gingerly removed the blue speck with a clean handkerchief and helped E put the play dough away.
After removing another wood chip from K's mouth, I settled the children in the living room playing with their Fisher Price little people set.  Since the kids' bedroom was carpeted, I usually let them play in the small section of hard floor by the front entry door so the little people wouldn't tip over easily.  The small, detailed village has a theater, post office, dentist office, fire station, bank, school, just about everything a proper little village needs.
Their contentment lasted about five minutes this time until E began to squeal, "Mommy, K is knocking my people over!"
"Oh, look out, Little People!" I yelled, getting into the sprit of the game.  "The Baby Monster is coming!"
K, the cooperative Baby Monster, grinned gleefully and lumbered further into their midst.
"Look out!"  E echoed, clapping her hands with delight.  "The Baby Monster is coming!"
Congratulating myself on the burst of creative thinking, I returned to my Vacuuming Monster.  I generally didn't encourage my kids to play "monsters," but this seemed an acceptable time to make an exception.
Crash!  My head jerked around to see hundreds of glass silvers cascade through the air and land precisely in the middle of the little play village.  The Baby Monster had knocked the lamp off of the end table near the door.
Fortunately unhurt, my two little darlings stepped back and eyed the tragic scene in amazement.
"Mommy, look what K did!"  E pointed her chubby finger at the accused.  Tears rolled out of K's eyes.  "No, me!  No, me!"  he protested.
I quickly hugged both kids, thankful there were no injuries.  Then I turned my attention to the carastrophic disaster.  Miraculously, all the little people survived the explosion, although the little ambulance was extremely busy the rest of the afternoon.
So was I.  Separating all the little figures from all the minute slivers of glass took a considerable amount of time.  I fancied I could hear my vauum cleaner calling impatiently in the background and my dust rag sobbing uncontrollably.
At 4:00, I finally dumped the final pieces of glass in the garbage and tucked the last little person into his storage box.  Hands on my hips, I surveyed my unpresentable house and heaved a huge sigh of despondency.  Churning emotions of revenge and rebellion mingled deliciously in my tormented mind.
That was the moment I grabbed my "Joy of Housekeeping" manual that had no advice whatsoever about removing play dough from a child's eye or how to cope with a little village disaster, strode triumphantly to the wood stove and threw it into the blazing fire where it belonged.
Satisfied with my moment of revenge, I grabbed the mop and frantically tackled the kitchen floor with renewed energy.
Two hours later, after much feverish activity, my house sparkled and the telephone rang.
The committee meeting had been cancelled due to another blizzard on the way.

Hope you enjoyed the story!  I blogged it while sitting here in the lovely, warm Hospitality Room in the Land of Abundant Living.  According to the Bible, God places a high value on the practice of hospitality, so next week, we'll check into that and also begin to talk about ways of looking at and approaching hospitality.  Later on, we'll check out some tips from contributors!

KEY #E1: EASTER THROUGH GOD'S EYES

SEEING EASTER . . . THROUGH GOD'S EYES . . . (another writing from my Library Stacks)
It was the night before Easter.  I had spent the entire day in semi-frantic preparations for the holiday.  My house sparkled, clean and shiny like a new toy.  A chocolate cheesecake was cooling in the fridge along with brightly-colored eggs decorated by my youngest son, Joshua.
At ten years, Joshua is a budding artist.  He delights in using colors to create unique designs for the eggs.  He writes the name of a family member or relative on each one.
Sometimes we talk about names.  Joshua feels honored to have his special name.  He knows that "Jesus" is the Greek form of the Hebrew word, "Joshua," which means "the Lord saves."
When I dragged my weary limbs into bed that night and snuggled under the covers, I realized my mind needed redirecting.  Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on Christ and His resurrection, on the joy that comes with knowing Jesus as my Lord and Savior.
Drowsiness threatened to overtake when, unexpectedly, a horrifying image flashed into my mind.
It was a picture of Joshua.  His gentle, innocent face was covered with blood, rivulets of blood streaming down endlessly.
My eyes snapped open.  "Lord," I silently cried out in the oppressive darkness, "take this away.  I don't want a nightmare.  I can't look at this.  I want to think about Easter!"
Then I knew.  I knew that God was showing me the true image of Easter, through His eyes.  The image of His beloved Son, Jesus, whose holy and innocent face was covered with blood, rivulets of blood flowing down endlessly.
This was no brief vision to God.  No nightmare.  This was Reality.  The God of all creation made Himself look upon the agony and torment of His Son, the One who would pay the penalty of sin for the whole world.
I know that I would not be willing to give my son to die for anybody.  Yet God willingly chose to give His Son, Jesus Christ, to die for me . . .  and for you.


"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life."  John 3:16

KEY #P6: ALLIGATOR IN MY SINK

Thank you, Father God, for the alligator in my sink!  
. . . We interrupt this blog to share some good news!  WE HAVE A CONTEST WINNER!  Congratulations go to Rose Finstrom from North Dakota for her answer of "Talks."  If you remember, the contest was to take the first letters of each title word from my "Library Stack" series and rearrange them to spell out a word that could be another word for "Prayers." After all, even though the process of praying involves many components, it is basically  simple communication with our Heavenly Father by "talking" to Him. 
So Rose will receive her free Joshua Story book, which tells the true story of the miraculous birth of my youngest son.  
Next week I'll blog about one of my children using the Easter theme, and the following Wednesday a new series will begin!  Thanks, again, for being my "blog friends!"  I hope that these blogs are a source of encouragement as we journey together in the Land of Abundant Life!


And now we return to our final story from the "Library Stacks"series:  
Thank You, Father God, for the alligator in my sink.  
I'm in the midst of re-arranging and re-organizing the week after my oldest son, K, left for college.  How I miss him!
We switched the boys' bedrooms around to give J the largest one now since he is the only child left at home.  J, my just-turned-twelve-year-old, is happy about his new bedroom, but sad to have his older brother gone.
I'm packing boxes, throwing junk that's been hoarded for years . . . usually by me.  Once I had to take the same item, a treasured memory, out of K's wastebasket three times.  Talk about frustrating! He finally got the idea so now I am the one sorting through treasures and non-treasures.  :)
As I hurried past the bathroom I caught a glimpse of something green in the sink.  Peering closer, I recognized the shape of J's "pet" alligator.  K brought it back for him a couple of years earlier as a gift from a trip to Florida.
The toy alligator "grows" if it is soaked in water.  J evidently discovered it beneath a pile of stuff in his former bedroom and decided to revive it . . to set it free.
Oh, Lord, in my sorrow over the absence of one son, you chose this way to remind me that there is still a child in the house . . . soon to be a teen-ager . . . but one who still relies on his mom.
Like the alligator grows as he absorbs the water, immerse J in the water of life so he will grow in wisdom and compassion as he shoots upward in stature.
Help me be the kind of mother J needs.  Show me how to provide an environment of spiritual growth for him . . . the kind of stretching, yet secure, surroundings that he needs.



Thank You, Father, for once again showing me the work You have planned for me to accomplish during my time on this earth.  Focus me on the job yet to be accomplished!

KEY #P5: KEEP ME CHATTERING, LORD!

Let's pull another story out of the library stack and find another piece of the Prayer Puzzle . . .


"Help, Father God, I'm going through "kid withdrawal" again!
I thought I was over that when my oldest, E, left for college a couple of years ago.  After crying oceans of tears, I began to adjust.  I got busy with life again and contented myself with phone calls and occasional visits.
I remember the aching emptiness when my youngest child, J, started first grade.  But I got to know myself again.  And there were unexpected surprises.  The first time I baked cookies, it suddenly occurred to me that both beaters were mine to lick.  I didn't have to share them anymore!
But now, Lord, my middle son, K, is a high school senior.  He's got a new job and works twenty hours a week.  He cut his hair short and looks a year older.  His new haircut is fuzzy and he let me rub it.
I hardly see him now. . . between school, jobs and friends.  I write him a lot of notes.
I remember two years ago when I went with him to purchase his first suit.  It was a tender moment.  He turned into a gentleman before my eyes.
Now K is also gradually drifting away.  Oh, he'll always love me but he won't live with me. . . share my home and my daily life.  I'll always have my children's love.  The future offers promising visions of holiday celebrations, weddings and grandchildren.
But it's different.  Life changes.  I miss my daughter's bubbly chatter about friends, boys and dreams.
Joshua still chatters.  Keep him chattering, Lord.
Still, I'm happy.  This is what I wanted.  I yearned for my kids to grow strong in Christ and independent of Mom and Dad.
My heart soars on wings of joy when I see how responsible, motivated and thoughtful they are becoming.  That is the way it should be.


How do you feel, Father God, when I get too busy to chatter to You?
That is not the way it should be!
I will never be independent of You.  In fact, as I get older, my dependency on You increases.
Keep me chattering to You, Lord.  Always.

KEY #P3: LET ME TALK!

"I'm mad at Mr. Rogers!"  my three-year-old son, K, announced.  He had been engrossed in the popular childrens' television show hosted by the gentle, tender-hearted man called Mr. Rogers who inspired self-esteem in his listeners as he entertained them.
"How," I thought to myself, "can anybody be mad at Mr. Rogers?"
Aloud I said, "Why are you angry?"
My son's lower lip protruded slightly as he protested, "Mr. Rogers never lets me talk to him."
Smothering a smile, I attempted to explain how television relationships operate differently from real life situations.  
Enlightened, but somewhat disheartened, K returned to his play.
As I went about my work, I pondered over the frustration I encounter when I try to communicate with someone who rambles on and on without giving me a chance to get a word in edgewise.


Then I thought of my own prayer life.  Does God get frustrated with me when I bombard Him with request after request, then tie it all together with a quick "Amen" and go about my busy-ness?
Lord, help me to pause frequently in prayer, to give You silences to fill with Your thoughts and directives for my life.

Are you keeping track of the letters to spell a word that can mean "Prayers?"  Today we have "L".  Last week, we used "T."  Watch next week for the next letter.  Remember, they are not necessarily in order!

KEY #20: SEIZE THE MOMENT!

Have you ever felt so eager to share the "Good News" of Jesus Christ with others, but didn't know how to begin?  Well, I have more good news for you!  It can be very easy!  Yes, just ask God to provide the moment and give you the wisdom to seize it and put it to productive use!  
Maybe you've noticed that the last key in what was originally a 19 letter phrase contest is now changed to 20 . . . good for you!  I like things tied up neatly, so decided I preferred a 20- Key series instead of one with 19 Keys.  I can do that if I want to; this is, after all, my blog.  :)  And since we ended last week with the Emergency Key, I thought it appropriate to tack on some encouragement with which to handle the Emergency.
I remember a short true story I wrote many years ago about an experience I had when my daughter, E, was just a toddler.  This seems to be a good time to share it . . .
God taught me the value of seizing the moment many years ago.  We had just moved into a new country house in Minnesota.  The inside of our home was completed, but the outside still needed some work.  
One hot, humid day in July, my two-year-old daughter, E, and I were home alone when half-a-dozen workmen arrived to paint the outside of our house.  We didn't have air conditioning, so I kept the windows open to catch some fresh breezes.  Almost immediately, the workmen started exchanging swear words and put-downs.
Horrified at the thought of exposing my young daughter to their crude language, I asked God for help.  An inspiration came.  If E could hear uplifting music, maybe she would ignore the men's rude comments.  So I put her favorite "Little Marcy" record on the phonograph.  Little Marcy is a woman who sings in a sweet, child-like voice about the joys of loving people and being kind to one another.  E was soon engrossed in the lilting melodies.  I breathed a sign of relief.
Before long, I noticed something else.  The swearing and insults had stopped and I began to hear phrases like "please hand me the hammer" and "excuse me a minute."  Obviously, the men could hear everything coming from inside the house as well as we could hear them!  And the words of Little Marcy were definitely influencing them!
So when Little Marcy finished her last inspiring song, I replaced the record with a selection of lively gospel sons by a male quartet.  It grew quieter yet outside.  I knew our guests also needed to see the love of Christ in action so I made a batch of brownies.  On their noon break, E and I brought the treats out to the men where they sat clustered in the shade of a few trees, eating their bag lunches.  By now, they were all perfect gentlemen.
Isnt' it amazing what God can do with small efforts on our part?  Let's keep looking for opportune moments to be used for Him!
"So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all men . . . "  Galatians 6:10a


Would you like to share an interesting experience you had telling the Good News to someone?  I'd love to hear it and it could be an encouragement to others!  Just scroll down a bit to the Comment section. . .


Next week I plan to begin a new series, not sure what it will be yet, but we will continue on in the Land of Abundant Living.  I never want to leave it!  Agreed?  
I have a very busy spring so will do something a little different with my blog until about the end of April.  Please join me next week to find out where I'll be parking my little vehicle for a couple of months!  

KEY #19: EMERGENCY!

I keep turning the EMERGENCY KEY over and over in my hand, wondering what possible kind of emergency could cause an upset in the Land of Abundant Life?
Two of the companions I picked up along the way, Daeli and Tricca, are still traveling with me.  The older man now has a vehicle of his own . . . a huge, bright green truck . . . with plenty of room to haul more passengers, if they don't mind riding in the "box!"
As Daeli, Tricca and I cautiously approach the big, red Emergency Door that pulses with flashing lights, we hear dim sounds of sirens coming from behind it.  Suddenly, the door is thrown open and a young man rushes out.  He appears to be about 17 or 18 years old, of a thin build but not scrawny, sporting pleasant features and a spiked hair cut.  He pauses as he notices our presence, yet his entire frame remains poised, a still life portrait of frozen energy.  Then his head swivels from side to side with a frantic motion as if he can't make up his mind where to go to what to do next.  Eyes agonizing with urgency lock with my own curious ones.  Quickly, he strides towards us.
"Do you know?  Have you heard?" He pants, out of breath.
"Heard what?" I asked, glancing at my two companions who appeared as confused as myself.
"I just learned," he peered around anxiously, "that the people who don't enter the Land of Abundant Life are destined for . . ."  he gulped, "an eternal hell . . . the . . . the Land of Unending Torment."
"Ohhh, that must be the Emergency," I thought to myself.  
He stared at me.  "You don't seem surprised," he remarked.  "You know this already?"
Solemnly, I replied.  "Yes, I know."
Shock transformed his countenance.  "Then . . . what are you doing about it?"
I was dumbstruck.  I had been enjoying my time here in the Abundant Land, learning new things, meeting new people, trying to encourage others and to be helpful to everyone I met.  Yet, he was right; there are others . . . others who are in desperate need.  My spirit began to absorb the contrast between my lack of insight and involvement with this young man's fervent desire to act, provoked by his first confrontation with the desperate need of those still outside of our place of security.  At the same time, I was struck with the overwhelming task of reaching them.
"But what can I do?"  I cried.
Daeli added, "What can one person do?"
Instead of answering, the young man beckoned to us.  "Come.  Come with me."  Hesitatingly, we followed.  He led us around behind the long, narrow building through a dense woods.  We must have faithfully trudged on for about ten minutes until we came to the other side of the woods where we found a vast highway we had not yet seen during our journeys in this Land.
"There.  See."  he pointed.
Along the highway walked a multitude of people, all ages . . . all sizes . . . all colors.  Some danced and sang along the way, some plodded dismally as though they could barely make it one more yard ahead.  All had the same empty look in their eyes, although their facial expressions tried to hide it . . . despair and resignation as they scanned the road ahead.  A few looked around uncertainly with a glimpse of some deep emotion I could not identify. . . maybe a combination of yearning and a glimpse of hope.
"Look at their eyes," he said.
"Yes, I see," I nodded.
"I have a plan.  Let's walk to the edge of the Land of Abundant Life.  We don't have to leave it, but see here.  We can go to the border with no trouble.  Then we can call out to them and warn them of the dangers ahead."  Excitement began to build as he talked.  "I can't reach all of them, but I can tell a few how to find the Door to enter our Land, and maybe they will tell their companions and bring them along."
His sober gaze fastened on my face.  "We can't ignore these people just because we can't tell all of them."
Tricca started to get excited, too.  "I'll run ahead to the corner.  See where the road narrows there.  Maybe I can yell to a bunch of people as they gather closer to get through the gap in the highway."
Daeli broke in, "I'm going to look for someone I can walk besides for a while before I talk with them."
"Great ideas!" I said.  "We'll separate to reach more travelers."
The young man turned to go, eager to initiate his plan of action.
"Wait!" I cried.  Suddenly, it seemed important to know his name.
"What is your name?" I asked.
He stopped and faced me.  "Ican,"  he answered.  "Ican Yucanto."
I smiled.  "Shall we pray first?"
"Of course," He looked sheepish.  "I guess I'm in too much of a hurry."
"That's okay, I admire your enthusiasm to save others from disaster.  But we need God's help.  We can't do this on our own."
We all grasped hands.
"Father God," began Ican, "Please lead us by Your Holy Spirit to the people You have prepared to hear our message."
"Give us opportunities to speak to them," was Daeli's request.
"Put the words in our mouth that you want us to use," asked Tricca.
"Please use us . . . work through us . . . to save lives.  In Jesus name, Amen," I ended the prayer.
"Let's return to this spot tomorrow and share our experiences and encourage each other," Ican suggested.
We all nodded in agreement and set off on our separate ways.
"Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the  Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."  Matthew 28:19-20

KEY #A18: LAUGHTER . . . JOY OVERFLOWING!

Laughter . . . We all need it!
"A joyful heart is good medicine. . ."  Proverbs 17:22a.  We can't experience the Abundant Life without it!  When we are filled with the joy of the Lord, we often find that we are able to laugh even in the midst of trying conditions.
Today, in the middle of winter here in Minnesota . . . admittedly the mildest winter that I can remember . . . still a bit of "cabin fever" seems to be going around.  So I decided to share some laughter with you today.  I have my husband's permission to publish a short story I wrote many years ago, when my two oldest children were still young.  E, was 7 years old, and K was 4 years old.
Both previously divorced, Gary and I had gotten re-married about a month earlier.  Gary normally had to work on Sundays, but my parents, who lived at a lake, were on vacation and my dad told us to feel free to come over and use his boat whenever we felt like it.  So Gary decided to take the day off and treat the family, along with our dogs, Abby and Dolly, to "A Day at the Lake."  The following is what happened, in vivid detail,when my husband borrowed his brand new father-in-law's boat for the first . . . and last . . . time!
Please note:  I have written the story in the old "Dick, Jane, and Sally" format.  Anyone remember those books that we learned to read with back in the "olden days?"
Sample:  "See Dick run.  See Jane run.  See Sally run.  'Come here, Dick,' said Jane.  'Come here, Sally,' said Jane." Got the idea? 


"A DAY AT THE LAKE" by Linda Ruth Stai
"Let's go for a boat ride," said Daddy.
"Ok," said Mommy.  "I'll go and get the life jackets."  Mommy went into the house.
E climbed into the boat.  Abby jumped into the boat.  Dolly jumped into the boat.
Daddy started the motor.  Slowly they backed off from the dock with E, Dolly and Abby in the rear of the boat.
K yelled, "Wait for me!"
"Sput, sput," went the motor.
"Oh, oh," said Daddy.  "The motor is not working properly.  I will jump into the water and keep the boat away from the rocks."  Daddy jumped into the lake.  The back of the boat went down.  Water rushed in.
"Eek!"  screamed E.
E swam out of the boat.  Abby swam out of the boat.  Dolly swam out of the boat.
"Oh, dear," said Daddy.  "I did not put the plug in the boat.   Mommy!!!"
Mommy ran down the steps to the lake.  "What have you done, Honey?" she said.  "Oh, my."
"Help me," said Daddy.
"The boat is full of water," said Mommy.
"I know," said Daddy.
"Where is the plug?" asked Mommy.  "Why don't you put it in?"
"I cannot find it, dear," said Daddy.
"Why are you turning red?" asked Mommy.
"Grrr," said Daddy.
"Daddy," said K.  "Look at the big waves coming in the boat!"
"I see them," said Daddy.
"Daddy," said K. "Why don't you put the boat in the boat lift?"
"Grrr," said Daddy.
"Can we help?" said E.
"Go get some cans and start bailing," said Daddy.
E and K ran into the house.
"Help me lift the boat up," said Daddy to Mommy.
"It's heavy," said Mommy.
"Grrr," said Daddy.
Mommy and Daddy pushed the boat up.  Then the boat went down.  More water came into the boat.
E and K came back with two little plastic bowls.
"I will go find buckets," said Mommy.
Mommy ran upstairs and got two wastebaskets.  Daddy and Mommy bailed water out one side.  Waves rushed in the other side.
"I don't think this is working," said Mommy.
"Help me lift in onto these cement blocks," said Daddy.   Mommy and Daddy lifted the back of the boat up. A tidal wave filled up the front.
"Why don't you put a plug in?" asked Mommy.
"Grrr," said Daddy.  "Bail."
Mommy and Daddy bailed.  Waves kept coming in.  E and K watched patiently.
"I think we need help," said Mommy.  "I'll go and get the next-door-neighbors."
Mommy went to get the neighbors.  They were out for a boat ride.
"I've got an idea," said Daddy.  "Let's push the boat to the lift."
Daddy and Mommy pushed the boat under the water all the way to the boat lift.
"Isn't the boat supposed to go on top of the water?" asked K.
"Go away," said Daddy.
Mommy and Daddy tried to lift the boat onto the lift.  It didn't work.
"Go and find some other neighbors," said Daddy to Mommy.
Mommy and K went to find some other neighbors.  Daddy hung onto the boat in the water and waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.
Mommy came back with two little boys.
"Is that the best you could do?" asked Daddy.
"There are more coming," said Mommy.
Three men came over to help.  A crowd gathered on a neighbor's dock to watch.  A few children offered to help.  The men lifted the boat onto the lift.  A waterfall fell over the side.
"Thank you," said Daddy.
"Thank you," said Mommy.
"That was fun," said E.
"Let's do it again," said K.
"No," said Daddy.
THE END
May you have a day that is blessed with laughter! 

KEY #A17: ULTIMATE RELATIONSHIP

The Ultimate Relationship . . . between an individual and God.  Last week we talked about Relating in Relationships.  This week we are focusing on the Ultimate Relationship, between God and me . . . or God and you . . . expressed primarily through God's completed Word, the Bible, on His part and through prayer on our part.
Since prayer is so crucial in developing this relationship, how do we go about doing it?  Again, this is a huge topic and unsure of how to even make a dent in the topical surface (especially since I am no expert and fall far short of my desires to excel in this area!), I am going to visit the Ultimate Relationship Room for thoughts to consider and to pass on to you.  The door is nothing fancy . . . obviously not intended to intimidate . . . God wants all of His children to approach Him on a continual basis.  He tells  those of us who have accepted Jesus' sacrificial death and ressurrection in our behalf to "pray without ceasing." We read in Hebrews 4:16, "Let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need."
Once inside the door, I find myself surrounded by the most glorious stained glass windows.  Overhead, I catch just the glimpse of the four enormous legs protruding from underneath a mass of heavy clouds.  Somehow, I know in my spirit that they are the foundation of a Great Throne.   Splendid wisps of fabulous colors wave and dance around the legs, constantly moving, leaving hazy trails that last for seconds, then disappear and are immediately replaced by more tremulous, glowing forms.
Turning my attention to the beautiful stained glass work,  I ponder their significance, and am immediately confronted with the similarities to those windows and to the concept of prayer.  Prayer is composed of words . . . my heart, mind and soul pouring out fears and feelings and gratitude to my heavenly Father.  But prayer is so much more than words.  I visualize prayers as a stained glass window . . . each separate piece a work of art in itself, yet connected to make up the whole image.
Images . . . that's it!
Here are some images I have experienced in my life, expressing what it means to pray:
Every evening, especially in winter when the darkness arrives early, I have a ritual of going to different rooms in my house, drawing the drapes in the living room (unless my husband beats me to it!), and pulling down the shades in all the bedrooms, closing the blinds in our bathroom.  Having practiced this ritual for many years, to me it symbolizes the closing out of the world's business and influence on the life of my family, as we wind down our day, settling in, enjoying the security of just being a family together . . . or these days of the empty nest, just a couple.  That is how I want to come to prayer, closing out all other influences . . . just resting alone with God, relishing the security of His presence.
Of course, at other times, I pray "on the run," as I do my housework and errands.  So many practical prayers through the years: "God, please don't let K throw up when he gives his first speech today in school."  "Put the kids to bed earlier than usual tonight at the slumber party since J needs his rest."   "Please make this dessert turn out good, because I don't have the time and energy to make another one."  In all our daily problems, God hears and cares and answers.
In the face of hardship and suffering . . . kneeling down at the bedside with my husband, holding hands while he leads us in prayer for a loved one, or direction we desperately need.
Saying the same words over and over to God for 25 years before I even see the beginning of an  answer.
Lying in my bed, too sick to think clearly, closing my hand and imagining that Jesus is sitting by my bedside and clutching my weak hand in His strong one.
Forming portraits in my mind of specific people I want to lift up in prayer when I am too weak to form words.
Inadequately groping to form the right words for my request and then remembering the the Holy Spirit prays for me with "groanings too deep for words. . ."  Romans 8:26
Trusting God when I can not only not see the end of the tunnel, but not even its entrance!
Letting the dust settle and the dishes wait until I have spent time with my Lord.
Shedding tears of confession when once again I have failed God or taken it upon myself to worry . . . again.


From God's point of view . . . sometimes when I am worshipping God with others who love Him, I wonder if maybe when God looks down on this world He created . . . now overcast with sin . . .  maybe He sees our prayers and praises rise up as tiny lights penetrating the dark shroud that envelopes our world . . . to give Him joy in return for all that He has given us.
Even little children can appreciate prayer, long before they understand what it is all about.  I was playing piano and singing with little c (my youngest grandson) one day last week, and in between every "Jesus song," he wanted to stop and pray.  He closed his eyes, bowed his little head and folded his hands until I finished saying a short prayer.  Many times, he wanted more than one prayer before we could resume singing!  Yes, there is much about prayer he doesn't understand, but he realizes how special it is . . . thanks to the way his mommy and daddy are raising him!
Have you ever considered that when you are praying for another person and if that person is praying for you at exactly the same time, it is as if your spirits are joined "in hand" around the throne of God?  What an awesome thought! Will you join me at God's throne soon?  I need your prayers and ask God to help me be faithful to pray for you!
As we close today, I'm sure you can recall many images of your own stained glass prayer window to add to my list.  We are told in Rev. 8:3-4 of "the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne.  And the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, went up before God out of the angel's hand."  Our prayers are continually rising before God's throne.  He values our prayers that much!  How much do I value the invitation He extends for me to pray?