Well, the month has sped by, as time does. Looking forward to our week at the beach, soaking in the moments while we were there, already a distant memory. Looking forward to my Marine grandson’s coming home, and like the beach week, already a memory. Thanksgiving and being surrounded by loved ones, even being told by my husband that “You outdid yourself on the meal”, one of the few compliments in fifty years of marriage. (When he does, he means it. I remember expecting to fail at something and him saying, “You always accomplish what you set out to do.” And he was right, whatever the challenge was (This was in the very early years, and I honestly can’t remember the particular one in a lifetime of challenges), it was met. No, don’t get me wrong, I certainly don’t always win. I generally give it my best, but part of my core knowledge is that I’m a woman who knows how to lose, to give up. With the help of my Holy Father. But a memory springs up. I had interviewed at the post office, a job I desperately needed, and the phone did not ring. My Dad, who was always incredibly more than most gave him credit for, said, “Syl, I believe that you are going to get that job.” He had been saying this to me with certainty, and again, there was more to my Dad than met the eye. But over a week had gone by and the phone hadn’t rung. I told him, “Daddy, if God wants me to have this job, there is no power on earth that can stop me from getting it. And if He doesn’t, I don’t want to use any power on earth to get it.” That thought is comforting to me today. Truly, what the Lord ordains, if He wants to hold it, no power can destroy it. And my Dad’s insight was also correct, eventually the phone rang. The postmaster had been using the wrong area code. Our little strip of earth is still convoluted. No cable, and in the mile radius that we, our sons and grandkids’ homes are in, two different area codes, and two different zip codes. But we do have wireless. (smiley face) Another memory kicked in on the way home from market deliveries yesterday. It is interesting to me the friendships, and I do mean friendships, that we have developed with other nationalities. One of my friends from India and I enjoyed a long interesting conversation yesterday. Another is friends with both of my market sons, and calls me “Mom”. We had a friend from Czechoslovakia for Thanksgiving. I’ve tried to be a comfort to our bereaved Venezuelan friend. There is a lovely lady from Thailand who always runs around my table at the market to hug me. The nicest coat I have ever had was (I hope) a hand me down from friends from Belarus. It seems brand new. When I worked at the post office, Mexicans who were returning to Mexico would come in to tell me good bye. And I have to admit I have wondered why I can be friends, actual friends, with those of other faiths, or even no faith, when I believe myself to be a strong Christian. And I don’t mean to neglect our American friends: we LOVE the relationships that have come to us through the years. So driving home yesterday, God reminded me of a regular prayer I prayed for several years, some twenty some years ago, and frankly renewed this morning. It was / is the prayer of Jabez, that God would increase our borders, spiritually, physically, mentally, emotionally, socially, financially, territorially. It appears that at some point I forgot the prayer: but God did not. God is so interesting. We laugh at Bible study about how interesting the Bible is, and distress that somehow so many Christians ignore it. And I’ll close by telling you a part of the prayer this morning, for it is interesting to me. Some of you know how troubled I am over what seems to be the implosion of something that has been so dear to me. And again I tried to hand it to God. But as I tried to hand it to Him, I realized how crusted with the dirt of this world it has become. And how pure God is, how good, how pure He is, and I could not place it in His hands. So I dropped it at His feet. There is a strong mental image of this. So memories are a good thing. Sad when you think of not seeing a beloved Marine for a year. But old prayers remembered (but sitting eternally before the throne, never forgotten by Him), are wondrously good.
Posted on: Sun, 30 Nov 2014 13:41:51 +0000
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