Thoughts Of A Weary Traveler

{Note: As a Christian and/or as a human, do you ever just get tired? Below is an entry from my journal on Dec. 6, 2015, when I was really feeling it. You may or may not get some of the references, but I need to remember that day, how I felt, and how the Lord is still coming through for me. Above is a reminder I captured on the mission trip I took to Seattle this summer.}

Why is existence so hard? Is it even worth it? Every day almost, it seems, I am more and more aware of my 'stranger status' here in this foreign land. It is hard, so hard, to keep in mind the image of this tiny red mark at the tip of the earth-encircling rope. The red mark seems so long when traveling it.

I am tired, so tired. And if I, then how much more must those long in the way be?

I am in a constant resistance with discouragement, with sadness, with frustration, with anger, and with exhaustion. I seem drowning in these things, and in the utter vastness of the job before me, before all true Christians. But where are, and who are, the true Christians? I can trust no one. All are unstable. All are satisfied in their own ideas, whether Biblical or not. I am in a fight for myself, to become more the Christian that God would have me to be; I am in a fight against Satan's work in the world; and I am in a fight against Satan's work in the church.

I am swallowed up in an invisible cloud; in the center of a bubble from which I cannot escape. If I could but get out and turn around and look on it I think I would see that it is a small inky blot in a vast expanse of gloriously clear air. Like Bilbo getting to the top of the tree and seeing the butterflies above Mirkwood, yet having to descend back into the poisonous darkness, I know there is cleanness and beauty from God's view, but I struggle to keep faith in that view of Light, while I am smothering in the murky darkness.

Tonight Bro. Earl said that in the men's prayer time this afternoon, he prayed for us (Victory Rd.) to have victory in our spiritual lives, so that we may find the freedom and joy and power to live Spirit-filled lives. The timing, for me at least, is absolutely just right.

And he asked, as a challenge, that us as his Sunday night group pray this for the church as well, that a wild-fire of spiritual victory would sweep the church. Oh how it is needed!

[Mostly] Work-related Relationship Struggles

Well, the first week of school is 'in the books', and with it my first week as VRCA's new secretary. I really enjoyed the work, yet the end of the week has left me feeling hesitant, unsure, and discouraged.

I don't accept praise easily. Something always tells me, "They feel like they have to say that," "They're just being polite," or "They don't really know what they're talking about - even if I did a little 'something' right, I still didn't do good enough".
But criticism (or perceived criticism) soaks me through, even penetrating to the hollow places inside my bones and filling them up - becoming part of who I am.

Condescension is the hardest to deal with. As if I'm too naive, sheltered, inexperienced, immature, out-of-step, or weak to handle [fill in the blank] situation.
If I'm doing something wrong, I'd much rather someone come to me kindly and frankly about it, than bottle up their amusement or frustration and just emit a fake politeness that I can see right through but can't discern the cause of!

A dubious once-over from a few different parents looms up bigger in my memories from the week than the respectful, confident treatment from a couple of others.

The skeptical, silent mannerisms of one or two teachers drowns out the friendly, eager mannerisms of others.

Working in my cubicle and hearing three school officials having a discussion in low voices, and thinking surely they must be discussing my mistakes, shakes and discourages me, in spite of the reassurances they've expressed.

Maybe the parents didn't realize they looked so critical. Maybe they weren't critical!
Maybe the quiet teachers are just naturally undemonstrative and calm. Maybe it has nothing to do with me.
Maybe the three officials were discussing an issue with a student, or a parent, or a teacher, or someone not even connected to the school, and just didn't want any little ears that might be out to catch the confidential things they were consulting about. Maybe my mistakes and slow learning don't bother them at all.

Yet, having grown up in the shadow of others' natural shine, and having always felt that I was a disappointment to certain ones over me, it's hard for me to brush off either real or imagined disdain from others.

So, all in all, and considering other challenges and difficulties of my current life situation, I ended up Friday pretty 'down'.

Last night I sat down and wrote the Lord a letter; just poured out all my struggles and sorrow and bitterness and vulnerability to Him. I've heard that writing is just 'sitting down at a typewriter and bleeding'. It sounds really weird, but I completely understand the analogy. I sat down at the computer and 'bled' in front of my loving, forgiving, understanding, wonderful God. And He came through, just as He always does.

This post is a next-morning view of the situation. I'm still struggling between confidence and insecurity about this new job, and about my relationships with people in general. But things are brighter. And as He's helped me through my life up until this point, so I know He will continue.

"...so that thy youth is renewed..." Psalm 103:5

Assorted [unedited] photos from the past week, including flowers in The Grandparents' yard, the look down from the top of the metal outside stairs going up to the youth room at church, Law's "Dora", Abigail making a snail with her hands, our cat "Murphy", sunrise this morning, moss, and the ornamental pear trees at Victory Rd. I've been taking lots of flower and other outdoor photos - Spring is definitely on it's way around here.

With the past week in mind, I'd like to share here a poem that Bro. Earl quoted from in his sermon this evening.

"Many crowd the Savior's kingdom,
Few receive His cross;
Many seek His consolation,
Few will suffer loss.
For the dear sake of the Master,
Counting all but dross.

Many sit at Jesus' table,
Few will fast with Him,
When the sorrow-cup of anguish
Trembles to the brim.
Few watch with Him in the garden,
Who have sung the hymn.

Many will confess His wisdom,
Few embrace His shame.
Many, should He smile upon them,
Will His praise proclaim;
Then, if for a while He leave them,
They desert His name.

But the souls who love Him truly,
Let woe come or bliss,
These will count their dearest hearts' blood
Not their own, but His.
Savior, Thou who thus hast loved me,
Give me love like this."

-Amy Carmichael

The past week has been an emotional one, internally. And externally, I suppose, when I'm alone, just the Lord and me.

A little over a week ago (Friday, Feb. 28) Uncle Alvin's family came to visit for a couple of days. Jaylyn and Jewel had seen a mutual friend a couple of days before, and told Trissy and me that she had asked them to pray for one of her friends. He had been out chopping trees in the woods by himself when one hit him in the head. He had been found four hours later, and now he was in the hospital.
We don't know the boy personally (just know of him) and, though it certainly didn't sound like a mere stick-a-band-aid-on-it kind of accident, I must confess that I wasn't struck by the enormity I now realize the situation possessed. I simply received the information, expressed my surprise and sympathy, may have said a prayer, and moved on. How sad. How typical - Christians, who have the indescribable privilege of speaking with God, are so often presented with others' needs, and then neglect to excercise that awesome gift on behalf of the hurting.

This past Tuesday, Mar. 4th, I received an e-mail from that mutual friend. It was a prayer request, sent out to most of her address book, I imagine. It was about T. R., her young friend.
The e-mail gave a few details of the accident and his recent progress toward recovery, then told that he'd taken a bad turn and they were trying new things to help him. It still didn't really hit me until this sentence:
"The doctors really don't know if he will make it or not, but we serve a mighty God who can heal him if it's His will!"
The doctors really don't know if he will make it or not...
I read that, and it hit me; and the impact of it was like getting kicked in the stomach. This kid is seventeen years old, people! Seventeen!! And he 'might not make it'.
Praise the Lord, this boy knows Christ as his Savior. If he dies, it will be his gain. But for those left behind... What a tremendous, unspeakable loss.

I have never prayed for healing quite like I have this past week. I've prayed for healing for adults, people close and dear to me who have already lived long, healthy, God-honoring lives, and have had a life to look back on with contentment. I've prayed that children would be granted to precious friends who had none. I've prayed for confused young Christians trying to find their way. I've prayed for the salvation of souls who I knew did not know Christ. And I've prayed for people in all of these situations with a passion and desperation and love that was so strong I often wondered that I did not explode with it.
But I've never prayed prayers for the life-or-death situation of a seventeen-year-old Christian boy.

I don't even really know T. R. I was at a youth camp five years ago, and he was there as well. He was one of the youngest campers, I was one of the oldest. We didn't really hang out together! I did notice that sharp little twelve-year-old, observing that he was packed with the potential to become a great man one day. My family goes way back with people that know him (like the family of the young lady who asked our family to pray for him), and occasionally through the years I've heard something about him, always in a good light. But he's not even my friend - I don't even know him.

Yet I have found my prayers and thoughts for him this week to be made of the same passion and desperation and love that they have for people very close and/or important to me. What causes the Lord to choose certain people for certain burdens, I don't know. But when He has chosen, you know it!

I have been praying that the Lord would spare his life. That He would heal him, and give him back all the health and mobility that he had before the accident. I've been praying that the Lord would give him a long and great life of ministry and service for Christ, and that this accident would somehow be used to lead many people to the Lord. At first I prayed also that the Lord's will would be done, even if it meant taking him Home. As the week has gone on, with natural human difficulty that part's become harder.

I got that gut-wrenching e-mail Tuesday. Wednesday morning, after dreaming about the situation, I woke up with the old song "What A Mighty God We Serve" going through my head. Haven't thought of that song in ages. Can't just be coincidence.

Two nights ago (Friday), there was some good news. The young lady sends out updates as she gets them, and I got a message saying that his blood pressure was back to normal and he was more stable.
Last night (Saturday), he was worse. Haven't heard anything today.

I'm reading through the Bible this year, and Friday morning I read 1 Samuel 2. The first chapter is about Samuel's mother, Hannah, her desire and prayer for a son, and the Lord granting her prayer. Chapter two is her prayer/song of praise to the Lord. So, with that backdrop in mind, when I read verse six of chapter two, it didn't particularly catch my attention. Until, for some reason, I went back and read it again. And the glory of it blew my mind.

"The Lord killeth, and maketh alive: He bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up."

The Lord brought T. R. down, oh so very low - and if He chooses, He can bring him back up. That verse was such a strength all Friday. And then that hopeful message Friday night...

This morning, after last night's discouraging message, I was thinking of how hard it must be for his family. How heart-breaking. I know very little about the details of the situation, only what my friend's messages tell, and those are pretty slim updates. But if he's still in ICU, which is quite probable, his family may not even be getting to stay with him. They've got a son, a brother, a friend, hanging between life and death, and they are powerless. What heart-break indeed!

It came into my head to look up verses about how the Lord feels toward the hurting, and how He feels about healing. I didn't have alot of time before we had to leave for church, but these were the four I found right off.

"The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit." Psalm 34:18

"He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds." Psalm 147:3 (How appropriate!!)

"...I am the Lord that healeth thee." last part of Exodus 15:26

"...Who healeth all thy diseases;" last part of Ps. 103:3

I jotted the references down on a scrap of paper and stuck it in my Bible as we hurried out the door on our way to church, thinking I might get a chance to look them up and study them a little more between services or something.

Every Sunday morning during the music part of the service, one of the men of the church reads a verse or passage between songs. Today was Dad's turn. He also teaches a Sunday School class, and confessed that he hadn't had a chance yet to get a scripture passage picked out. With my little list in the front of my Bible, I eagerly asked if he wanted a suggestion. He gladly asked me to read him one.
I randomly picked the Ps. 103 one, but knowing that that verse was the middle of a thought, I started at the first verse of the chapter and just started reading. And when I stopped after reading through verse five, I almost didn't hear Dad say thanks or that the selection was "...just right!" - I was stunned by what I'm sure was the providence of the Lord.

"Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits:
Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; 
Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies;
Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's." (Ps. 103:1-5)

Begin with praise, for whatever the almighty God does is right. Remember the power with which He has answered in the past. He's the one that forgives sin. He's the one that heals. He's the one that rescues life from destruction. He is the tender love and compassion that makes life good. He is the only one that satisfies. He is the one that renews youth.

Wow. Just... Wow.

Tonight, in his sermon, Bro. Earl used part of that poem I included above. So true, so good, all of it. But, thinking of T. R., the last stanza caught me, and both conviction and human pain hurt deep down in my heart.

"But the souls who love Him truly,
Let woe come or bliss,
These will count their dearest hearts' blood
Not their own, but His.
Savior, Thou who thus hast loved me,
Give me love like this."

Love enough to hold all He has given, with an open hand. Love enough to love Him whether heart-break or healing. Love enough to release the most priceless gift from Him, back to Him. Love enough to love like He loves.

I don't know what the Lord will choose to do for this young man. Whatever it is, it will be right, for it will be what He chooses.

It's almost midnight. I'd better go to bed. Soli Deo Gloria!

-Kyrie<><

My Beautiful People

This is a sort of prose 'poem' I composed off the top of my head this afternoon. I was thinking about how beautiful people are, how detailed and exquisite God's craftsmanship is, and how it blesses me to look at it, and I just started writing about (some of) the beautiful people I know. I wrote about some of them as they are now, and about some of them as I have known them and as I know they can be again.

{Aug. 10th Note: I have edited and added to how it was originally; below is the edited version. And I will most likely continue to add to it in coming weeks - I know many beautiful people :) ! There is not necessarily a particular order, though I have tended to edit related people to be in groups. The paragraphs mostly just flowed from pictures of people I love that popped randomly into my mind's vision.}

"My Beautiful People"

I love how people are so beautiful.

I love Mrs. S's hair, flecked with a bare sprinkle of silver,
how it falls in a dark wing above her forehead.
I love how her words are always soft
but always significant.
How she tilts her head
and makes everyone who talks to her feel like
they are special.

I love how Austin's grin is worth a million dollars.
I love the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes
and how he is one of the greatest examples of humility and undemonstrative compassion I have ever known.
How his eyes are sometimes contented green,
sometimes quiet caramel,
and sometimes snapping black.
How his thick hair is that dark gold color,
and how he absently plays with that lock in the front when he's thinking.

I love how Ava's brilliant deep blue eyes fill up half her face
and how her huge smile fills the other half.
How she braids a strand of her hair away from her face sometimes,
and how she ducks her head and does this awkward sort of dance up to you
when she wants a hug.
I love how perfect she is for Austin.
I love how understanding she is,
how easy to talk to,
and how she's the one I think of when I have a desire to do something really wacky or childish,
knowing she'd understand perfectly
and would probably do it with me.

I love how Bro. Dennis's laugh fills him up
and fills the room up
and fills the listeners up
so that they want to laugh too, even if they don't know what's going on.
I love his caramel eyes
and brown hair
and sideburns.
How he's so square and stocky.
I love how he cocks his head and glares at you with his eyebrows way up, when you've done something without thinking and he wants to call your attention to it, but in a teasing way.
I love how he thinks about everything, analyzing it until it's broken down and he can look at all it's parts
and then show them to someone else in a way that they can understand it.

I love how gentle-faced
and dignified Mrs. Carrie is.
How slim and tall she stands,
and how she can get from one spot to another quickly, but never appears to be hurrying.
How quietly elegant her style is.
I love her silky hair
and how it falls to her shoulders with gentle waves towards the bottom.
I love her dark-honey eyes
that observe keenly,
and speak volumes if you have the eyes to listen.

I love Oliver's passion,
his dreamer's heart.
How his grin could light up a dungeon
and how his black eyes squint when he is really smiling,
or get big when he's passionately trying to describe or get a point across.
How his black hair and tan skin make him look great in white.

I love Toby's humility,
his resilience,
and his quiet passion for the spread of the Gospel.
I love his blue eyes and dark blond hair,
his kind smile,
and the way he coins phrases or starts using already-invented ones in such a way that use of the expression seems to spread and become part of the every-day vocabulary of most who know him.
I love how devoted he is to Lindy,
how respectful he is of her,
and yet how they goof off and tease each other almost like siblings might.

I love Lindy's powder-blue eyes.
How healthy and gentle her face is.
I love how she's so powerful,
but so lady-like.
How she bends over backwards to make
the others in the situation feel comfortable.

I love Mrs. Renae's deep brown hair
and how it has red-ish highlights.
I love how when she's laughing,
her left eye squints just a little bit.
I love how she rejoices in life like a child might.
How she worships the Lord like no one else is watching,
or like the whole world is.
How she dresses so classy,
and modestly too.

I love how deep 'my brown-eyed boy's eyes are,
and how deep his voice is,
though he is so young.
I love how his hair is such a rich dark brown -
almost black.
How great he looks in dark teal.
How polite he is.
How, when he laughs, it's a squeak deep in his throat;
how it contrasts with his speaking voice.
I love how he gets in 'beast mode' when there's a job to do -
how his focus narrows so that he gives his best to do his part.

I love Piper's freckles,
her round-ish face,
her piercing eyes,
that are so wise.
I love her meek and quiet spirit,
her calm sensibility.
How she stands at an angle and looks at the ground ahead of you and sort of leans toward you with her near arm out just a little, when she wants a hug.
How when she wears her glasses,
she looks even cuter. And sortof scholarly.
How she is the perfect size to hug and prop my cheek on the top of her head,
but how she will probably end up taller than I am.

I love how Abigail is so brown and healthy-looking
from all the time she spends outside.
How she sometimes sweeps a little of her hair away from her face on either side in a sortof vintage style.
How she closes her eyes and then sweeps her head to face you and opens them dramatically when she's making a point.
I love how she blinks and sniffs at the same time,
how it wrinkles her nose and shows off her freckles
and her lovely eyelashes at the same time,
but how she doesn't even know she's doing it.
I love how she's always got a pun or corny joke to share.
How her giggle sounds light and free and pure.

I love Law's eyes; that amazing summer-forest color - a patch of sky, a few leaves, a glimpse of loamy earth.
How his light brown hair sweeps across his forehead like his mom's does.
I love how tall and broad-shouldered he's getting to be,
how brown he is from working outside in the sun all the time.
I love how when he smiles it lights up his whole being,
how his eyes get big and round and excited.
How fun-loving he is,
and yet, how responsible
and serious he can be when it counts.
I love how the joy of the Lord seems to fill him up
and pour out of him to bless and admonish others in his life.

I love Archer's sharp brown eyes, one of only two pairs I've ever known that could truly be said to 'twinkle',
how he smirks when he finds something amusing,
making that slight dimple come out in his cheek.
How he rocks back on the chair legs when he laughs, his chuckles starting as a squeak in his throat, his eyes squinting, and his nose wrinkling up.
How carefully and yet unknowingly he lifts a wing of dark almost-black hair away from his eyes with his fingertips, or rakes his hand through the top and pats it down.
His biting sarcasm that he then softens with a smirk and a twinkle as he cuts his eyes slyly at the victim.
His heart for service,
and how he doesn't back down from his decision unless presented with what he considers intelligent, compelling reasons.

I love how Julia's so pert, almost sassy,
in the way she teases her friends;
how her rude comments (that probably no one else could get away with) are her way of showing her friendship,
and how she hurries to assure you she was joking, even though you already knew she was.
How frank and honest you can count on her to be.
I love how naturally scrunchy/curly her blond hair is.
I love how she's the queen of crazy faces,
how she can make this bug-eyed stare and hold it long after you've given up staring back and are doubled over laughing.
I love those brilliant blue eyes of hers,
how she uses them with her fine blond eyebrows and
how she tilts and moves her head to be so expressive.
I love how she and Autumn (not being related at all) can be such close friends that they're like sisters.

I love Autumn's naturally scrunchy light brown hair,
her almond-shaped dark brown eyes,
how her smile shows how straight and white and perfect her teeth are,
and makes her dimples come out.
I love how she's not very tall,
but is so athletic
and sturdy.
How she doesn't brag,
but her talents just randomly come out when they're needed
and everyone thinks, "Wow."

I love Camille's strength,
not only physically,
but inside too.
How tall she is.
How thick and rich her brown hair is
and how it can get so long so fast.
I love how bright her green eyes are
and how clear and bright her complexion is
when she doesn't wear make up
and her hair is up out of her face.
How she seems so brusque
and almost tough,
but is really such a softie.

I love Bro. Mike's gray-ish hair
and short goatee
and slightly pointed ears
that earned him the nick-name, The Garden Gnome.
I love his kind blue eyes,
his short stocky build,
and how he believes in hard work
and in doing your best.
His wise,
calm,
loving,
understanding spirit.

I love Landon's good-natured spirit.
How he is the image of country-boy charm,
with his work boots, faded jeans, worn t-shirt (or button-up with the sleeves rolled up), and white-and-blue ball cap.
How that white-and-blue cap is almost as much a part of him as his name is!
How round his brown eyes are
and how high his eyebrows get when he's telling about one of the adventures that seem to constantly seek him out.
The air of hospitality,
kindness,
gladness,
and friendliness
that is part of his character.

I love how courageous Bro. Earl is,
how he can narrow his vision so that he can focus on the job at hand, and shut out the rest of life's difficulties for the time being.
I love how he always has a complement,
a joke,
or a pleasant remark
for whoever he runs into.
I love how he's so squarely built,
how he stays in shape even though his job is not one that requires much physical activity.
How his style is both relaxed and yet classic.
How he always has time to talk,
and how he will tell you if he doesn't have the answer,
but will try to help you find it.
How he's a preacher, a pastor, but he's just a regular guy too,
he's not hight-and-mighty,
he's humble,
and willing to learn.
I love his teal-blue eyes
and dark-gold hair like Austin's.

I love Mrs. Shannen's nod -
the way she bobs her head and smiles Bro. Dennis' grin when she agrees with something.
The way she says, "Goot!" instead of "Good!",
that would sound annoying on anyone else,
but is part of her.
How her short hair flips out just a little.
Her gentle spirit
and meekness.
How she's so motherly,
so kind,
how she keeps on going,
even when the going is tough.

I love the way Russell dances (almost litterally) through life,
using his flambuoyant tendency toward the dramatic (singing, acting, dancing, etc.)
to entertain us,
to put smiles on our faces,
to lighten the heaviness that life sometimes is.
How his striking blue eyes contrast with his brown hair,
and how they squint and disappear when he grins.
How he'll pull out the 'grandma voice' when he's talking to little kids,
or the Scottish accent when he's ordering at a restaurant.
How he gets so serious and technical when there's a job to do,
rushing around on his long legs like a grasshopper.
How his eyebrows raise and wiggle,
and his eyes sparkle when he's goofing off.
I love how he's joyful even when his life's hard.

I love Trent's sense of humor when you get to know him a little bit,
but how he's just an ordinary teenager otherwise.
How 'dressing up' is, for him, a white button-up shirt, unfaded jeans, and boots.
How thick and rich his blond hair is,
how quiet and observant his eyes are,
how slender he is,
and how tall he's getting to be.

I love Aron's strength, both of body
and of character.
How protective he is of his wife and child,
how he serves them
and guides them.
I love how he is such a hard worker
and such a loyal friend.
How his jet-black hair and dark eyes and deep tan skin are so striking, and
how his laugh is so powerful, but
so boyish and freeing.

I love Henley's sensitivity to people,
her down-to-earth outlook
and kind heart;
the way she draws others in, making them at home.
I love how her long, straight, dark-blond hair has natural bright-gold highlights in it.
Her big blue eyes.
How patient she is,
always trying to see the positive in a situation,
how she respects her husband Aron,
and protects her little son.
How she has chosen to stay at home and serve her family,
instead of trying to make 'her' place out in the world.

I love how Joy is so tall,
how I hug her and it's more comfortable for her arms to be around my shoulders while my arms are around her waist, even though I'm ten years older.
I love how her eyes are the color of dark copper
and her hair is just a little darker than that.
I love how she calls herself my long-lost sister because we're so much alike that it's uncanny sometimes.
How she lights up when she's telling me about something that stood out to her in her Bible reading.

I love Justice's confidence,
how his voice has such a low pitch that, if you're not used to it, it almost makes you want to plug your ears to lessen how much it makes the room vibrate.
I love how his Irish blood comes out
in his stocky form,
curly brown hair,
bright blue eyes,
pale freckled skin,
and passionate nature.
I love how tender-hearted he is toward things of God;
how he has a heart for young people,
and how he has such a gift as a teacher.

I love Noel's curly black hair.
I love how she looks up to Justice, her husband.
How she defaults to him in any decision.
I love her child-like simplicity,
and how she tries to make the best of a hard situation.
What a grateful spirit she has
and how matter-of-fact she is.
How she's willing to serve wherever she can,
and how quick she is to point out other's talents and strengths.
I love how she tucks her chin, cocks her head, raises her eyebrows, and looks at her listeners from the tops of her eyes when she's making a point.
I love how she leans her head back and giggles.

I love how Trissy's hair is so straight
and fine
and long
and golden in the sun.
I love that she doesn't wear make up,
but is still attractive.
I love how she makes that self-deprecating smirk
and shrugs when she does or says something that everyone except she thought was funny and they all laugh.

Communion

Tonight was I think the most meaningful, beautiful, moving celebration of the Lord's Supper I have ever been a part of.
This was the first time that I know of that Victory Rd. has had the Lord's Supper on a Wednesday night. Usually it's during the night service of the Sunday before Easter Sunday. But this seemed to work well. All Wednesday night classes were canceled, and we all met together in the auditorium.
As they arrived, people greeted each other quietly in the foyer and hallways, and the doors to the auditorium had signs taped to them requesting, "Enter reverently with prayer".

Trissy had gone early to do a Bible study with one of the young girls at the church, so she was already there. When I entered the auditorium after quietly greeting Nicole, Lydia, and a few others standing in the foyer, the lights were dim and those already inside sat silent or talking in whispers. I spotted Trissy and Ava sitting where our family usually sits on Sunday nights, talking quietly, and went to join them. It was almost time to start. Ava left to go sit with Austin and his family, and Dad and Mom came in and sat with Trissy and me. All the over-head lights were off - the only light was from the soft ones on the back wall, a couple up front, and a soft spotlight on the cross-and-dove centerpiece high on the wall above the choir chairs. Bro. Blake's mother was playing the organ; soft, gentle, solemn old hymns like "The Ninety and Nine". The whole room felt so beautiful, so, holy.

Bro. Blake stepped up to the podium and led the congregation in two hymns, "Hallelujah, Christ Arose", and "The Blood Will Never Lose It's Power", with only the organ for accompaniment and his rich baritone for direction. As the last chorus came to an end, Bro. Nick walked up to the platform with his Bible in his hands, and Bro. Blake handed him the microphone and went to sit with his family.

Bro. Nick read clearly and simply the account of the Last Supper from Matthew 26:17-29. When he reached verse 29, I noticed something I don't think I ever had before. Jesus says, "But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom."
Until I drink it new, with you. He's waiting for us. Christ, the son of God, is keeping Himself from enjoying the complete pleasures of His Father's kingdom, until we who are His adopted brothers and sisters are there to enjoy it too. Wow.

When Bro. Nick finished reading, Bro. Dennis sang "When He Was On The Cross, I Was On His Mind". So thankful to hear that voice again. So thankful for hope for the future.

Bro. Earl preached a simple sermon and read the apostle Paul's description from 1 Corinthians 11:23-26. He urged us that were followers of Christ to pray silently (while he prayed aloud), confessing any known sin in our lives, and asking the Lord to reveal others we may not have recognized so that we could repent of them also, enabling us to take the Lord's Supper with an examined heart and a clean conscience.

After he prayed an earnest, humble prayer, he asked Bro. Nick and five of the deacons to come to the front to help him pass out the bread and 'wine' (grape juice). The pewter dishes gleamed in the soft light. Bro. Earl handed a plate filled with the tiny pieces of flat bread to Bro. Nick on his right. Bro. Nick turned and gave it to Bro. Blake who in turn handed it to Julia's dad. Then another one for Bro. Blake. Bro. Earl handed one to Lindy's dad on his left, and the 'bucket brigade'-style plate-passing was repeated on that side. The four deacons with the four plates of bread then moved throughout the congregation, offering a piece to each member. When all had been served, the deacons walked back to the front and served each other, each man giving the plate to the next man up, and that one holding it for him to take a piece, then passing the plate on, ending with Bro. Earl serving Bro. Nick and Lindy's dad before taking a piece himself.
The process was repeated with the trays filled with the tiny glass cups of grape juice.
I was struck with the beauty of the ceremony and order of the process.

It has always been a solemn thing, the Lord's Supper. Something I don't believe I've ever taken lightly since I've been old enough to understand. Certainly not since I received Christ and have been part of one of these services myself.
But this time, I seemed to feel the wonderful, terrible, incredible significance in a way I never remember before. Hearing again the story of the first one, the "Last Supper" - the last Passover Jesus celebrated with His disciples. The overwhelming sadness that must have threatened to consume Him, as the time to leave got closer. The pure aloneness He must have felt, knowing all would desert Him. Knowing He must face this - the most terrible horrors any human on earth had or has ever come to - alone.
Alone.

Julia's dad, as one of the deacons, held out the plate of unleavened bread. I took one of the tiny pieces and held it as Bro. Earl prayed.
Jesus' words, 'This is My body, broken for you...' The disciples must not have understood that night. Did they? They must not have. It surely would have torn them from the inside out, if they'd known...
The crisp crunch of the plain, unleavened bread.

Julia's dad came back, this time with the tray of juice.
As I sat looking into the rich purple color of that tiny glass of grape juice, tears came to my eyes. 'This is My blood, shed for you... My blood... My blood...'
The life of the flesh is in the blood. He literally gave His life - for me. For whoever would choose to accept His gift.
Of course this was only juice here, but the significance was so terribly and wonderfully real to me that from sheer sympathy I didn't think I would be able to drink it. How He suffered! And we have no idea really.
Bro. Earl prayed again, but when he finished, I really hesitated to drink my juice. Then Jesus's command to the disciples spoke in my head, "Drink ye all of it;" and I did.
The sweet, spicy tang of the purple grape juice, then soft chinks all across the room as people slid their tiny empty glasses into the wooden holders on the backs of the pews in front of them.

Reminding us that Jesus and His disciples sang a hymn when they left their Passover meal, Bro. Earl nodded to Bro. Blake, whose his rich baritone solemnly but joyfully began the first verse of "Amazing Grace" as he began walking down the center isle and out of the auditorium. We all stood and followed, singing.

We left the building quietly, smiling at each other without speaking, and most continued on to their cars and left, taking the lovely solemn experience home to savor.

But a few stayed in little knots of people to chat a few minutes, standing around in the parking lot. Aron's cousin was behind Trissy and me as we exited the church building, and greeted us sweetly when we got out front. Her husband had been invited to preach at another church Sunday night, so we asked how that had gone. Lindy, and then Ava, came and joined our little group, and we stood talking amiably about random little things, like friends do. Toby had had surgery the day before, on one of his knees he'd injured playing basketball. Lindy said he was in quite a bit of pain and acting pretty grumpy unless someone was hugging him. We talked about hugs, how some people are 'huggy' people and some are not, about cats and kittens and Ava said Austin said she could have two of ours if Maggie has kittens, as long as they stayed outside. We talked about the weather, how it keeps getting hot, then chilly again. Ava was wearing leather flip-flops and her feet were cold. About that time, Austin came out of the church where he'd been helping lock up and, after a little more discussion on being cold and how to avoid it, they left to go get supper. As they walked off, I thought of something. I ran to catch up, and when I did, told Ava she should 'borrow' his corn bag when she was cold. She turned to Austin. 'Corn bag! You have a corn bag?!'
'Oh yeah! I do!' and Austin was telling her the story as they left.

I returned to our little group. Aron's cousin had left by this time, and the parking lot was practically empty. Trissy and I visited with Lindy a couple more minutes before saying good-bye with light and happy hearts.

The whole evening was such a wonderful, special experience.

"5 Small Things Friday" No. 55

Go back and read this post for the story behind "Five Small Things Friday".

For this week, here is my list:

1. Sight: Fall Mornings

2. Hearing: Bible Pages Turning

3. Smell:

4. Taste: Apples

5. Touch: Abigail's Hand

The stories behind the list:

1. I've been doing alot of bike riding recently, trying to get a constant routine of exercise going. I love to ride my bike, and since we live in the country it's even nicer. We have a path Dad's cleared through our woods around our land, and I've been riding that circle. These fall mornings are so beautiful and make it even more enjoyable - the sun streaming through the trees, the dewdrops like tiny diamonds flashing from the tips of every leaf and grass-blade, and the rich red-ish soil of the neighbor's freshly-plowed pasture next to us.

2. Sunday morning Bro. Earl used alot of different Scripture references in his sermon, and really encouraged everyone to find each one and follow along in their Bibles.
Each time he announced a new reference, the whisper of pages turning would wash gently across the auditorium like a refreshing summer shower through the leaves of a forest.

3.

4. I've always loved apples, but recently I've found myself almost starving for them! Wednesday, over the course of the day, I had four!

5. This past Wednesday night was Victory Rd.'s yearly walk/run that I told a little more about in this post from last year. Towards the end of the night, Abigail and I were walking together, joking, being silly, and generally enjoying each others' company. We each had a cold water bottle and she decided the chilly moisture on the outside of hers would be fun to wipe off and rub down my bare arm!

Law And Hope

God is working in Law's life. I've prayed for him so much since D-Now last year, and it seems as if those prayers are beginning to show fruit.

As I mentioned in this post, Simon and Law were at college Bible study Thursday night - the first night of dividing up into the two groups.
The females went to the classroom next door, and the guys stayed in the main room. Evidently the boys had been having a discussion on 'what is considered appropriate behavior in church' (having food in the auditorium, wearing shorts to church, etc.). As we rejoined the guys for our closing group time, Law said, 'Let's ask the girl in a dress, or, skirt.' (I suppose insinuating that someone who was wearing a skirt on a week-day would have a more strict opinion) 'Kyrie, do you think it's okay to wear shorts to church?'

Now, I knew what I wanted to say, and I was pretty certain that that was what he thought I would say. Yet, with all I have been learning in the last three years (at Victory Rd.), and what had been demonstrated to me within the last two weeks (at the church in Chicago), I hesitated a moment before answering. I was also aware that this could be an important moment in my work of building a friendship and trust with this young man. That my answer could affect how (or if) he trusted and/or respected me in the future. Also, obviously (and most importantly), I wanted to give a Biblical answer and one that would please God. So I hesitated. But not for long; my answer came to me pretty quickly and easily:

If all you have to wear is a pair of shorts, and you don't feel like you should come to church because you don't have a suit or a dress to wear, you should come anyway. Your wardrobe limitation should not make you feel inferior and keep you from church. And if you come and people look down on you, they're wrong. If you have clothes on, you should be able to come to church.

Around the room there was a murmuring of agreement, but Law wasn't done:

What if that's not all you had, but you just wanted to wear shorts because you liked them or they were comfortable?
The look on his face was a mixture of friendly daring and serious interest.

I tried to choose my words carefully:

I think it’s good to try to look nice and show respect by wearing your best to church. But if you want to wear shorts to church, that’s between you and God – it’s not for me to say. If your conscience will let you, it’s not for me to tell you what you should do or not do.

He looked thoughtful as Justice and Bro. Mike both made approving comments, but I couldn’t tell what those thoughts were...

Then there was SOAR last week. SOAR is an acronym (I don't remember what the letters stand for) for a big youth conference in Texas. I've never gone, for several reasons which for time's sake I will not detail now, but for a few days (and for various other reasons) entertained the idea of going this year. Randy, Law, Piper, Lela, and Bro. Mike, as well as Simon, Joy, and Abigail were all going as well. I ended up not getting to, and was disappointed; I felt like something big was going to happen, and I would miss out on getting to witness it.

The group was going to be leaving early Monday morning and get back Friday night. Sunday, I tried to seek out the different ones who would be going and wish them a blessed time. I hadn't gotten to tell the S. kids good-bye though, and it was Sunday evening. Trissy and I went out the side door of the church building after services were over (I was needing to get some youth group photos from Bro. Mike I'd told him I could put in albums), and there was their big silver van, with Mrs. S. and Piper in it! Turns out Law had walked over with Simon to Simon's grandparents' house for a little while, and had forgotten to give the key back to Mrs. S. So she had called him, and she and Piper were waiting for him to walk back with it. I got to tell Piper 'bye and stood and chatted with them and Bro. Mike for a few minutes.

After a couple of minutes, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Law walking up the road towards us with the sinking sun behind him turning the colors in it's path into a scene of magical beauty. When he saw me, he started singing this stupid silly song that went back to the Chicago trip

Anyway, when I knew the group was on their way back Friday afternoon, I texted one of the girls that had gone and mentioned that sometime I wanted to hear all about how it went. She replied that she would be glad to tell me, and mentioned a situation involving Simon and Law in a negative light. I was dumbfounded; and heartbroken. After Chicago, I had such hopes that Law was changing - for the better. Now this?

I went around the house in a shock for a few hours, and I'm sure Trissy and Mom must have wondered what in the world was wrong with me.
I prayed and thought, and tried to remind myself that the Lord had the situation firmly in His hands, and that I should wait until the group got back and not jump to conclusions based on one negative remark. But I was still so sad. Why, when I mentioned that I'd like to know how things went at SOAR, was that the first thing the girl thought to tell me? Not, 'the music was uplifting', 'the speakers were passionate', or 'the messages were convicting and inspiring'; just, 'Simon and Law did not behave'. To her, did it stand out so bad as to drown out all the good that might have happened on the trip?

Later that evening, we were going up the road to spend the evening with The Grandparents, and as is my habit frequently, I rode my bicycle. As I pedaled down our little country dirt road, past the pastures and trees that make the beautiful spot where we live, the sun was at that late-afternoon position just before it starts sinking behind the trees; that angle where it's rays are cast almost perfectly horizontal across the landscape. The light was brilliant white gold, and with the direction of the sun's rays, every grass blade was turned into a bright green prism, each flower along the way exploded with brilliant color because of the light behind it, and anything that was not perfectly flat had a precise, sharp-edged silhouette on the ground beside it. It took my breath away. And as I rode along soaking it in, the thought involuntarily passed through my head, "If God can make something this beautiful, He must be trustworthy."
Of course I knew already that He was! But that amazingly beautiful late-afternoon scene was the sweet reminder I needed. The young lady I got the message from may have easily misunderstood the situation; regardless, it's always risky to pass judgement on anyone, or come to a final conclusion, after hearing only one side of a story - and one side was all I had. Almost without realizing it, I found my heart and mind completely at peace.

Sunday was glorious.
Aron was leading the music service that morning, but hadn't gotten enough music printed for all the guitars, so Archer and Law sat in the congregation with their family.

For days - maybe weeks - before this, I had prayed that God would really speak to Law at SOAR.
I watched him from the choir during the music service, then out of the corner of my eye during the sermon.

At one point as Bro. Earl spoke, Law suddenly bent down and took a tissue or two from the box under the pew in front of him, and laid them spread neatly on the pew beside him. I looked at his face, and I could not read it. It was stoic and yet soft, calm but gently disturbed. He blinked his eyes rapidly and he may have had tears, or a speck of dust in them. He could have been expecting to need the tissues to wipe his eyes, or to stifle a sneeze. But he did nothing more with them, other than to move them from his right to his left side on the pew.
I desperately wanted to believe that Something was working in that dear great heart. But I have learned that reading what you want to read on a page can be a dangerous business, for it may not actually be there, and basing your thoughts and actions on what you suppose, can result in grave mistakes.
It was, however, unmistakeably obvious that his usual mannerisms were altered. There was no pencil-twirling, no leaning forward with head down and elbows on knees, no rather glaze-eyed expression, and no resting with face in hand. He looked like a willing student in a class of chosen personal interest.
Oh how my heart ached for him!
Bro. Earl brought the service to a close and Aron got up to lead the final hymn, "His Eye is on the Sparrow". The congregation began singing, and almost before I could believe it, Law was slipping out from between the pews and striding up to Bro. Earl. He wrapped his arms around him as if he was the only standing tree in a tossing flood. Words passed between them, then Law came back and slipped back to his spot.

During the service, in among my sermon notes on the back of the bulletin, were interspersed prayers for Law. At the bottom I'd quoted the first half of Ps. 119:126 - "It is time for Thee, Lord, to work".
Now below that I wrote, "And He is!"

Thoughts On: Persecution

Sunday morning's music service a couple of weeks ago seemed especially poignant somehow. The impact of it has not gone away, and I think it is worth making note of.
From the expressions on many faces, I think others felt it too, and Mrs. Renae mentioned it the next Wednesday night in class. Perhaps it was the exceptional songs, rich with musical excellence, but more importantly, with deep theological meaning:
"Jesus Messiah"
"There Are No Orphans Of God"
"You Are My King"
"Refiner's Fire"
"Beneath The Cross Of Jesus"
and "Amazing Love"
There was a strong sense of unity and oneness among the people there, and the Spirit of the Lord seemed to be infused into the very air as we sang for and to Him. It was an amazing time! The kind of Sunday morning that you remember for years, and pull out of your cranial file cabinet periodically to savor and enjoy again.
But I also had a strange keen feeling of something like sadness - a bitter/sweet premonition-like feeling that moments like this would soon be only precious memories. I don't have any idea, of course, how long religious freedom will still be ours, but I often wonder how long it will be - and how prepared we will be - when the Christ-followers here in America will be forced to meet secretly because of the hatred against us, and the danger we are in. So many dear believers are now, in other countries, suffering for the sake of our Lord, and if we are truly His, it will come to us eventually.
I pray often, so often, that if it comes in the lifetime of the Victory Rd. members, that we will be strong and courageous, loving, humble, and brave, willing to suffer or die if need be, for each other and for Christ. That our God will give us the wisdom to know when to hide and when to be bold, and the courage to face whatever comes with joy and strength - most of all, that we will be ready, and will stay true to Him.
Trissy and I both sing in the choir at Victory Rd., and that Sunday morning as these and similar thoughts passed through my mind, as the rich words of the precious hymns lifted with all the voices, my eyes rested on face after dear face in the audience before me and on the platform beside me. And as I thought of what we may eventually face, it was all I could do to keep the emotions that were welling up inside me from spilling out in full force. For, though I had seen tears in the eyes of several others in the congregation, when I looked over and saw both Mrs. Shannen and Bro. Earl with tears running down their faces, the ones trickling down mine threatened to become a flood.

The thought of suffering for the sake of Christ is, in a strange way, both exciting and terrifying. Peter, Paul, and so many other of the great heroes of the Faith counted it something to be thankful for - that they were thought worthy to suffer horrible tortures from others, for Jesus' name's sake. And what an honor if the Lord should think me and my dear people worthy! Yet the thought of it also horrifies me!
I've heard that it's easier to go through a difficult time oneself, than to see someone you love suffer, and I can believe it. When I consider the possibility of some of those I love being viciously persecuted for their Faith in Christ, I am overcome with sadness.

Though for this season God has blessed us in America with freedom to worship and serve Him, I believe we should be prepared for the possibility of losing that blessing. I also believe we should be working for His cause with all the hope and zeal and anticipation of a revival! The apostle Paul thought the Lord would come back in his lifetime and that was two thousand years ago! We may have hundreds of years yet!
Either way, we must be ready to give an answer, to serve others and to serve Christ with love and bravery, and to do this to the best of our ability and with the height of our potential.
And we must never forget to be thankful for and to cherish each precious moment with all of our heart!

The music part of the service ended, and the musicians and singers went to their seats. When I got to our pew, I got a pen and the morning's bulletin and wrote:
"Dear God keep us true!! Whatever comes, keep us true!!
Dear God help us cherish these moments with all our hearts, so that when they are gone, we may revisit this holy place & receive strength."

I believe it was that very afternoon, as we were at The Grandparents' house for Sunday dinner, that Trissy went into their living room to the old upright piano and began playing hymns. The only one she got through before lunch was ready was "When I Can Read My Title Clear". Fitting, don't you think? Funny how the Lord works little things like that out.

For anyone who may not know this precious old hymn, and would like to benefit from the words, I've included them here:

"When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
And wipe my weeping eyes,
And wipe my weeping eyes
I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.

Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.
And face a frowning world,
And face a frowning world,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.

Let cares, like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall!
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n, my All.
My God, my heav’n, my All,
My God, my heav’n, my All,
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n, my All.

There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav’nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
Across my peaceful breast,
Across my peaceful breast,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast."

SOLI DEO GLORIA!

-Kyrie<><

Recent Happenings

So, before anything else really happens, I wanted to record a few of the things that have been going on lately.


First off, I am SO thankful to be done with yet another semester of school! Lord willing I only have one more (this Fall) and I'll be done for good! YAY!!! :)
The Lord was good, and gave me A's in all my classes, too. I've done well, as far as grades, but I want to finish off the rest of what I have to do, with all A's.


We have a busy summer ahead though! Right now, Trissy and I are trying to get ready for the mission trip we're planning on taking. Several people from our church are planning to be going on various mission trips this summer, and our church itself is planning two of our own. Trissy and I are planning on going on the first one, which is just a little less than three weeks away!


Last week Jaylyn helped us get set up with a Skype account, so now we can talk with them when they go back to the mission field! We're really excited. But they'll be another continent away... that seems so far, yet with the blessings of modern technology, not nearly as far away as when The Grandparents were missionaries overseas!


Mrs. H said for us to keep her incubator over the summer and try to hatch some more chicks. We'd tried right before the end of school, and had put more than twenty eggs in, but not one hatched! We've got thirty-one this time (including eight eggs she gave us from her chickens), and we are hoping and praying they all hatch, are healthy, and are mostly hens! Our hen population is down to three, and Mom is missing getting to do all her cooking with 'home-grown' eggs.







The ones in the first picture are two of the ones from Mrs. H. She gave us four of the little tiny white banty eggs, and four others that are real small, but I don't think completely banty.
The ones in the next picture are the two sizes we put in.
The last picture just shows a comparison of all four sizes together.
(Sorry about the marker on the shells. We wrote the date we gathered each egg in Sharpie on the shell, so we could tell later how the age of the eggs affected how likely they were to hatch.)



Uncle David came over for a week-or-so's visit, and The Grandparents have been thrilled to have him here! His whole family was hoping to get to come right after Christmas, and the funeral of the oldest uncle, but were not able to afford the plane fare for four people across the ocean. Someone in their sponsoring church, though, gave an offering of enough for Uncle David to come and see his parents. He is so hyper and fun and joking, and yet so willing, hard-working, and one of the most respectful-to/of-his-parents people I know. It's been good having him around to 'increase our endorphins', and we can tell The Grandparents have really 'perked up' to have his lively spirit around.


Yesterday, was Justice and Noel's wedding. The bridesmaids wore black dresses, and the groomsmen wore black suits. The women carried red roses and the men wore red rose boutonnieres. Justice's coat was white to match Noel. Somehow I did not end up taking a single picture! Oh well...
We ended up going to two weddings yesterday. Justice and Noel's, and then one of a young man whose family we have known since the kids were just little bitty. They are home school friends, and we were part of the same home school group for years. I did take a few pictures there.




Lindy and her family used to go to church with their family, so she was there too, and sat with us.


While we were in town yesterday, we went by Lifeway and I picked up 'The Voyage of the Dawn Treader' that I had pre-ordered before it came out. Dad took Trissy and me to see it in the theater - Mom was sick, and couldn't go with us :( - and that was the second time Trissy and I had been to a theater (the first was for Fireproof). I would NOT want to go regularly, but I'd like to support good movies. We hope to go and see Courageous when it comes out in September. But anyway, Dad really liked 'Dawn Treader', so Trissy and I are going to give it to him for his birthday :) .
While I was there, I also got 'Pendragon' which I have been wanting ever since I saw it several months ago. If you want something good, clean, imaginative, and exciting to watch, (not including Sherwood Pictures movies) I would recommend this! It is excellent! Uncle Alvin's are supposed to come down tonight, and Jaylyn and Jewel have been wanting to see it again, so maybe we can watch it after church.


Toby hurt his knee playing basketball a couple of weeks ago, and the doctor thinks he may have torn his ACL. If he has, he'll have to have surgery to fix it, and may not get to go on the two mission trips he was planning on being a part of this summer. Lindy said he's pretty discouraged about that, but still hopeful. He has an MRI on Tuesday, to find out for sure what's wrong, and after that, he and his parents can make a decision on what he's going to do.


Mrs. Shannen, Bro. Earl's wife, recently learned she has a hole in her heart, and she's going to have surgery this week, Lord willing. A week or so ago, she was at work, and one side of her face went numb, and she felt lightheaded. After alot of tests, they found out that the hole in her heart that all babies have when they're born had never closed up, and it was letting little clots through, and causing minor strokes.
It kind of gave us a scare, but she seems fine now, she's just going to have to have it closed up.


Bro. Earl's got laryngitis, so he couldn't preach this morning. Bro. Dennis preached for him, and it was excellent as usual. He preached on what true success is, and how to obtain it. Success is not health, wealth, and prosperity. Success is being satisfied with where the Lord has you, and doing your best for Him in the situations you find yourself it.
That's the sermon in a very small nutshell :) .

About halfway through the sermon, the electricity went off! I mean everything, the microphone, the lights, the recording machine, everything. He was just talking along, and all of a sudden there was kindof a snap, and the whole big auditorium went dark. Nobody missed a beat, just 'rolled with it' as they say, and Bro. Dennis just kept preaching and would say something like, "Now, if you can see your Bibles, please turn to this scripture reference" every now and then.
It was actually kind of cozy :) ! Some of the men got up and opened the doors into the hallways and the foyer, to let the sunlight in, and we just kept going. I am just sad that the recording machine couldn't work, because I had wanted a copy of the service to re-watch later.


"Austin and The Band" as Bro. Mike calls them (our young people who play and lead the singing for the youth class on Wednesday nights) led our music this morning and did an excellent job. I suppose they did the music because Bro. Dennis was preaching and couldn't do both.
They are getting better and better. They're all good musicians, but when they first started, they sounded like they were just starting, if you get my drift ;) . Now they blend and seem to play off each other really well. It seems like they're better every time I hear them just about! They usually pick out really good music and songs too, which of course, is half the thing, right there. And they use their great talents to glorify the Lord; that's the best thing - knowing these kids want to love and serve Christ - that's so rare these days in young people. These are such a blessing!


Dad had made hamburgers Friday, and we had them for left-overs today for lunch. Mom usually likes us to cook a 'Sunday dinner', but with all the running around and other things that have been happening lately, and since we had plenty, we just decided to do left-overs today. Trissy started fixing Dad's burger, then she called me over and showed it to me and said, "I'm going to call him to finish it!" :) .



She's real cute with things like that.


Well, I think that's about it. Besides, Trissy and I need to scoot on off to choir practice. Bro. Dennis let us all have a couple of weeks off after Easter :) .

I just wanted to record a few of the things that have been happening around and to me.
This morning church especially was SUCH a blessing and refreshment from the Lord! I can never cease to thank Him for leading us to this place, and the wonderful family He has given us, and the lessons (both easy and hard) He has taught us here. He is so amazing; so good.

{Zig-zags courtesy of Jones Design Company}