A Good Friday Good Thing

I’ve never particularly liked “Good Friday” and have often wondered how a horrible, terrible, and appalling event got a “good” name.

 Last Wednesday, for about the millionth time, I remembered.

 It had been yet another difficult week and driving home from a four month follow up appointment with the surgeon who put a new knee in my left leg LAST November, I sighed… A LOT.

 Today he had said, “Everything looks great. It is coming along on schedule.”

I said, “But, it still HURTS.”

With a huge grin, my human physician said, “Ah, you’re fine. It takes at least a year for a new implant to settle in. You’re doing great. Come back in a year. Unless you have problems.”

 *sigh*

 The knee replacement followed by the unexpected pneumonia and staph infection in my lungs and long weeks of IV antibiotics drained me. They told me recovery would be slow. Well…. It has been S. L. O. W.

Still, I keep on keeping on and work hard to snap back to my old, happy care-giver self. Lately, I had lagged a lot.

 And, to put black icing on my springtime cake, there were no blue bonnets this year to bring smiles to us Texas hill country folks. So, after my visit to the doctor and trudging through the grocery store, I drove home in a down-trodden attitude. As I rounded the curve to head up the last hill to our gate, the music on my car radio sank into my consciousness……

They struck Him and they cursed Him and mocked His holy name
All alone He suffered everything.

(Wait. I know that one. Listen. . . . .)

 He could have called ten thousand angels
To destroy the world and set Him free.
He could have called ten thousand angels,
But He died alone, for you and me.

 

They spat upon the Savior so pure and free from sin;
They said, "Crucify Him; He’s to blame.”

 

I raised my tired old hand in praises.

 

He could have called ten thousand angels
To destroy the world and set Him free.
He could have called ten thousand angels,
But He died alone, for you and me.

For ME. Liz. Me, the child who God—the author and finisher and creator of EVERYTHING—had created  and made and brought into being. This old, tired, hurting, limping seventy-six year old granny. Jesus did NOT have to endure anything. He CHOSE to. Yes, perhaps for you, too, but I know it was for ME he died.

Oh the smiles that filled my soul.

I forgot some of the pain, some of the exhaustion, a lot of the worry.
Somehow, I will do another day.
Somehow, I CAN keep on.
He gave me a job to do.
I must trust that He will help me do it.

He could have called ten thousand angels
To destroy the world and set Him free.
He could have called ten thousand angels,
But He died alone, for you and me.

 

Thank you, Ray Overholt, for penning these fabulous words so many years ago. Thank you, KHCB radio for playing redeeming music just when I needed it most. Thank You, Holy Father, for loving me enough to die for me so that I will live forever with You. Thank you, human physician, for giving me a nice, new knee so I can continue to take care of my loved ones.

 Just imagaine: ME !!! He did it for me.

 I hope you, dear reader, know the joy of this truth and that you rejoice with me on Easter morning when the grave is EMPTY.

Easter Blessings,

            Liz

 P.S. There has been a long, dry spell between my postings, but because I still have a few other Good Friday blessings to share, I’m trying to be faithful, for a change, in posting. I do hope you’ll return.

Just for the record, check out this Scripture:

Matthew 26:50-56

⁵⁰ And Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you have come for.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and seized Him.

⁵¹ And behold, one of those who were with Jesus reached and drew out his sword, and struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his ear. ⁵² Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword. ⁵³ Or do you think that I cannot appeal to My Father, and He will at once put at My disposal more than twelve legions of angels? ⁵⁴ How then will the Scriptures be fulfilled, which say that it must happen this way?”

⁵⁵ At that time Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest Me as you would against a robber? Every day I used to sit in the temple teaching and you did not seize Me. ⁵⁶ But all this has taken place to fulfill the Scriptures of the prophets.”

****** Oh. But wait. That is not all of chapter 26…. Does this sound familiar????

 Then all the disciples left Him and fled.

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

 

 

Home Again

Sweet Husband did it again.

Sent me and precious daughter—via silver wings—to visit my son and family in Kentucky.

Aunt Mindy on left... her niece, my granddaughter on right. *sigh*

BUT... at every turn--going and returning, Mindy and I found help, graciousness, friendly exchanges, and awesome stories. Some experiences came from total strangers, others from selfless family. Dear Heart’s son took time to drive us to the airport and lift our bags. Precious Daughter’s son met us on our return to lift our bags and drive us to meet up with Dear Heart. Skies were friendly, planes were on time, storms did not last long, passengers lent helping hands, bags arrived at proper places, and sleep came easily.

You see, there are times when a mom must  physically SEE her children. It is wonderful to have phone calls, old-fashioned letters, birthday cards, special delivery flowers, e-mails, and I-M / Skype conversations; but those aren’t enough. Moms can’t know for sure unless she touches, hugs, holds, and looks into the eyes of her children.

...including a rousing game of Corn Hole in perfect weathert....

And I got to do that last week. Three whole days.

With my two birth children, daughter-in-love, and beloved granddaughter.

In person.

Together.

Offering praises.

Being blessed.

Food, fun, games, and TALK.

Hugs, stories, giggles, and TALK.

Holding hands. Praying together.

Talking to God.

Tossing corn bags, cooking, washing dishes, listening.

Together.

Family.

And, I eavesdropped on my own son’s conversation with our Father God.

How good it was.

Oh... and a little post script.... my son's wife loves my writing and my son is a history buff, so in an effort to entice me back to my novel-in-progress they took us on a side trip around the block from their new home to the restored historic Black Acre. Oh WOW. Maybe come summer, I WILL continue the adventures of my fictional slave families on their search for freedom....

the writer at a real spring house... 1802 to 2011. WOW

 

So. For a few hours, in addition to fun and adventure, I was privileged to see, hear, and watch the innermost spirit of my children and my heart is calm. And being home again is good.

Slowly Walking the Road to the Cross,

Liz

Grappling with Contentment

This year, Lent seems very long. Because Ash Wednesday came so late? Or because Easter won’t arrive until April is almost finished?

To me, Lent is a time to sit at the feet of Jesus to learn and grow. Like most moms and great grannies, I do a high “Martha” season all through Christmas! Then I pack away my apron, the tinsel, ribbon, glitter, and manger just in time for the dark days of winter.

In these retirement years, I really try to let winter be a time to rest, to sit at the feet of Jesus, and to practice the better things of a “Mary” spirit.

However, I don’t do resting well.

This year is particularly difficult because I’ve had a number of medical challenges and I have been “home-bound” more than usual. But, little by little, I kept seeking God’s face.

On Ash Wednesday, I thought I heard Him say, “Hummm. How about that lesson you keep forgetting?”

Oh. Well. Un... You see, He’s talking about a lesson I have learned many times, but I forget. Over the last few months, I forgot it totally and completely.

And yes, I asked. As I poured over His Word through the dark days of winter, my heart soaked up His promises and I yearned for more.

*sigh*  CONTENT.

   

You know what I mean… as in Paul’s acknowledgement:

”I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” [Philippians 4:11, The Message]

Can’t do it. Grumble. Complain. Cry. Whine.
My hands are too full.
My nest is too empty.
There is too much to do.
I'm bored.....

Then, in the middle of a HUGE whine, I happened to notice words in the earlier part of chapter 4. …. “stand firm” … “Rejoice in the Lord always” … “in everything by prayer…with THANKSGIVING” … “and anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things” …..

And then I came to that verse 9 !! “..PRACTICE these things;”

I truly am blessed. I have much. I NEED NOTHING.

The truth is that if all of these earthly, material, physical, relational things aren’t enough, MY SAVIOR LIVES!

Join me in thinking on His Goodness with thanksgiving - - - for at least FORTY DAYS!!

     Liz

Preparing for Ash Wednesday

A couple of years ago, I wrote a Lenten devotion about trying to lean on the everlasting arms of my Savior—as I dealt with life and He headed to the cross. For me.

Ash Wednesday is this week and we begin a 40 day walk to Easter morning. As I try to prepare my heart for remembering the perfect gift my Holy Father gave me at Easter, my mind flits back and forth from one worry to another, I interrupt my own prayers to peek at my “to-do” list, and sigh as my eyes stare out the window to a brown, dead landscape.

I really study and try and learn my lessons.... but *sigh* L I am quick to forget. Life and problems continue to assail me and I fall—yet again—into unchartered waters. Instead of keeping my eyes on the Rock that is higher than I, I fall and must go back… and remember… and get my heart and spirit still… and give thanks.

Ponder with me that Lenten morning when I cried out to God. . . .

Traffic and God's Arms

The day ahead of me was filled to overflowing so I rose early but struggled with prayer lists grown too long, miscellaneous daily stuff entangled among drought and winds, and ugly, stinging words—both given and received. Ready to head out for appointments, I stopped long enough to cry out to God, “How do I know? How can I be sure? My walk is confusing. Where do I turn, what do I do?”

Neither thunder nor lightening answered so I dried my tears and scurried out to tie up the loose ends of yet another hectic day.

Later, I impatiently tapped the steering wheel as I waited for an interminable red light to give me permission to drive forward. Trapped in my immovable vehicle, I watched two men walking down major, busy street in front of me. They moved properly against traffic oblivious to dust coating their white walking shorts.

The sighted man walked next to the curb, his right arm bent so that the other could hold on. The blind man walked in step beside his companion but on the outside and next to the dangerous lane where trucks, cars, and motorcycles zipped, rushed, and sped by.

I felt God whisper, “Watch and learn.”

The two men walked heel-toe-heel-toe oblivious to tires spewing rocks, dirt, and debris across the hot pavement, trucks turning left, mini-vans gunning engines and roaring around slower, sedate Town Cars.

Sharply sucking in my breath, I watched. The blind man moved his white-tipped stick back and forth as he walked—heel-toe-heel-toe. The other man was taller and looked around, pulled his arm closer—heel-toe-heel-toe—checking, pulling in, looking, listening, moving, letting out—heel-toe-heel-toe.

My light changed to green. Oblivious to God’s Hand moving among us, cars in front of me moved ahead, turned left, braked, turned right, slowed, and accelerated while voices from my radio sang…….      

          What have I to dread, what have I to fear,
          Leaning on the everlasting arms?
          I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,

          Leaning on the everlasting arms. (*)

Please, sweet friends, pause with me to lean on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Walking through Lent—and through life—without Jesus is treacherous.
Walking together to the Cross is Holy,

The eternal God is your refuge,
      and his everlasting arms are under you.
   He drives out the enemy before you;
      he cries out, ‘Destroy them!’

Deuteronomy 33:27 (New Living Translation)

Because He Died, I live . . .

      Liz

(*) Text by: Elisha A. Hoffman, pub.1887 / Music: by Anthony J. Showalter, pub.1887