You do not even care how you got there…but this time, this is really it….the frayed edges of your last bit of hope are at your elbows.   The rope.

You can’t let go, because you cannot see below.  What will catch you?  Will anything?  Will anyone?    And then the eyes sting and the hands burn with ferocity,  the body dangles the awaited decisions.

And then it hits you.   You have climbed up before, you have mustered strength.  This, this is really the end of you.  There isn’t even a desire to look or muster or climb.  You are resolved, that even perpetual free fall may allow you to exhale.   “And underneath are the everlasting arms….”   It is a whisper, it guides through the wisps of your hair, around your tear stained cheek, gently into the ear and permeating your soul, “….llleeeeeeettttt gggoooooooo….”   It’s the lullaby you have cried for….as you have longed to be comforted in the arms.  To be rocked into peaceful slumber.

Slowly, the fingers peal away….the breath leaves….the eyes close….the muscles stop fighting….the shoulders drop….the head tilts upwards and you….just…let…go…………only, there is no falling.  A cloud must have enclosed you, the body has collapsed and is resting…Clouds do not comfort like this.   Yet it envelopes you.  And you, you give  in to the letting go.  ”It is finished…”  the whisper now coming from within…and without….somehow, from that voice that is heard, and yet not heard.  And from the embrace that is more of a holding than any other….yet, you cannot see it.   The salty trails are dancing now as they leave the creases of joyful eyes.  Oh, this place, this place of the letting go and of just being.   But you are less alone than you have ever known and you know Him……the heart begs, it pleads in its rejoicing, “Don’t go….”.    ”Only let me stay, right here, always”.   And you KNOW the promises are “yes and amen”.  Here, you are His again.  The lowest of places, the deepest of fears and the last bit of letting go was the shortest distance you were ever asked to travel, becuase underneath, “are the everlasting arms” , they never leave, they never forsake, they never ‘oops’ you.

Deuteronomy 33:27

The eternal God is your dwelling place,

and underneath are the everlasting arms.

And he thrust out the enemy before you

and said, ‘Destroy.’

The circumstances….I thought it was there fault that I was at this end.  But, I saw, so clearly, from His arms….they were meant to lead me there.  And the rope, I had woven it with much difficulty and I began to climb and then I realized that He had never asked me too. Not once had He ever asked me to come up with the plan, to go at it alone, to bear the burden, to be miserable.  No, this was His doing.  So, how was I missing the joy in this pathway? How had it darkened and lost its luster…..because I left Him, somewhere in the distance I became the master.  Now, now, as He always purposed, He will gently lead me, the light has once again drenched the path…the vision of what is ahead is not daunting, but glorious….and all because I am once again…behind, desperate and exactly where I want to be.

In the shadow of His stature, holding His hand….walking, one step at a time, trusting the One who will lead.

Because there are 5 who watch, who mimmick, who copy.  Because if I lead, they will fall.  If they mimmick this gargantuan rope holder, they fail.  If they see and they try and they never know how to ‘just be’ and to ‘be still’ and ‘to know Him’….that is everything.

The rope…it is the conterfeit of ‘just being’.  It is the strive and the pull and the never measure up that calls us, that SCREEEEEAAAAAAMMMSSS.  IT SCREAMS, “MOOOOOOLLLLLYYYYY!!!!  HAHA, never, ever will you make it! NEVER!”…..the rope, is the lie.  The everlasting arms, the just being, they are the Truth.  He is, the way, the truth, and the life….the rope is the noose.

“Leeeeetttt gooooooo….”, He gently whispers, the Gentleman Creator calls, and waits.   Just let go….be still….and know….the everlasting arms…..everything else will come into focus.

love,

Molly

I was gathering the sculptures from God’s hand, outside, on the ground.  Sculptures, to decorate tables at the wedding reception. Like roses, like palm trees, beautiful, spiky, hard to pick up, gorgeous to gaze upon.

Under the tree, at its base, that is where the most cones and spikes had fallen, they do not fall far from the tree.  I heard the pounding sky, glanced slowly over the back of my shoulder and saw that my time was up.

A black sky, the glow of electricity reaching from the heavens, to the earth.  Agitation was having its way with me, when would I have time to do this again? When would I think to do it again?   God’s eco-system won, I was chased indoors.

The rain poured, the sky painted it’s swirls of grey, dark grey, white and traces of blue. The leaves blew and they blew and they blew, a warning….a tornado warning.

Thankfully, a warning passed, rain passed and I looked outside.  Here, I had seen the storm as an interruption, a delay in my plans, as if I KNEW what was best and what would come at the end of it.  But, I couldn’t have known.

Upon looking under the same tree, where I had gathered most of it’s spiky offering’s, a fresh, new, batch.  Double what I had gathered,  possibly triple, gently nudged from their branches by the passing storm.

I saw an interruption in the storm that had forced me in a direction I did not prefer to go…God brought me triple the harvest that I would have had without it.

I knew He was teaching me.  Our move, the accident, the emotional high’s and low’s of leaving home and family.  He was showing me again. It all seems like an interruption in my life.  It seems like an unplanned storm that we must wait out.  It has felt very much like….a mistake. But in reality, there is a purpose in the storm and if I hold tight, it will yield the fruit that He intends for me to have.   To be disciplined to rest in Him, in His purposes, during the storms, that is the goal.

He brought me here,

He brought the storm,

that drew me near,

into His arms.

I cannot see,

how things will end.

I only know,

I can trust Him.

He never ceases to amaze me.

love,

Molly

“Failure”, “God doesn’t love you”, “Surely God means only to torture you in this life”, “You only thought that you were His child”, “You must be one of the ones that hardens, and there is nothing that you can do about it”, “too bad that your life is just a joke to everyone that sees you”, “you should just give up now, there is no hope”, “You are ruining your children”.    If I was going to remain in my prideful state, I would never share these deep, dark places with you.  But, I know that if I am being fed lies, than others must be too.

Sometimes, there are not even words to pray for ourselves.  The last thing that  the enemy wants is for us to reach out to the body of Christ.  And so He feeds more lies, “your burdens are your fault, don’t throw them on others.  If you had just made different decisions about your life, you wouldn’t be in this sad place”.   He is crafty, the Father of Lies.  He has been lying to humans since the first humans came into being.  Honestly, he has a bit of an upper hand.  He has watched humanity, he has hunted God’s children, to steal, kill and destroy.  Perhaps his greatest lie is this one, “There is no hope”.   Once he has been allowed to zap our hope, we are putty in his hands.

But, God, in His infinite mercy, will not allow us to be overcome.  Christ left the flock of 99 to retrieve the 1 who wondered away.  Would he not also leave the flock to rescue the one being hotly pursued by a wolf?  Of course He would.  And He did.

I reached out to some women in my life yesterday. I shared my battles.  I asked them for their prayers and encouragement.  I agonized over even pushing the ‘send’ button.  What would they think of me?  I was amazed and showered with love and encouragement, with their prayers.  And I saw the hand of God, moving in my heart, on my behalf, when I had no energy left to fight on my own.   I wrestled with Him, in silence, as I drove my son to his soccer game.   I sat, thankful to be left alone.  I had brought a book that I picked up this week.  God knew. God knew, that at just the right moment when I needed it most, that His words, His wisdom would leap from the pages and into my soul.  I KNEW, this was the answer to the prayers of my sisters in Christ.

My son’s game began and I would read when he was on the sideline, he played, I cheered, I read.  The rain rolled in, I had no umbrella, so I held my camping chair upside down on my head until it passed.  It did pass.  I sat, I read, I cheered him on.  Slowly, my hope was being restored.  Before I left, in the midst of my doubt, my husband was talking me through my lostness. “Don’t you know that God chastens those that He loves?”…”That’s just it”, I replied, “I don’t know that I am His right now”.   Oh me, of little faith.

My son and I were leaving his game and as I turned around, above my head, without my knowing, a rainbow had appeared as the rain had passed over me.   I was stopped in my tracks.  I looked, and I KNEW, I knew afresh, that His promises are for me.  He would not let me stay in a place of wondering if I was His, no, He pursued me.  Just as the proverbial rains had poured over my exhausted soul, the clouds passed and without my knowing, He was working His promises back into my heart.

“Surely goodness and mercy, will follow me, all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the House of the Lord, forever and ever.”  Excerpt from Psalm 23

“Let me hear joy and gladness;

let the bones that you have broken rejoice.

9 Hide your face from my sins,

and blot out all my iniquities.

10 Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and renew a right spirit within me.

11 Cast me not away from your presence,

and take not your Holy Spirit from me.

12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation,

and uphold me with a willing spirit.”   Psalm 51:8-12

That the God of the universe would take time to answer me, I cannot understand it.

love,

Molly

What do I really have to be angry about anyway?  I have been thanking God profusely for sparing our family from death last week, all though death is the not the worst thing that could happen to a person.  I think I am angry at being reminded of who I really am.  I mean, this body feels VERY permanent.  My extra weight REALLY seems permanent. But, it has all been milling around my head, over and over again.   I think that it has more to do with time than anything else.

Have you ever stopped to think about where time actually goes?

I know you have uttered the words, “Where has the time gone?”, just like I have.  But have you ever stopped to think about where it actually does go?  How is it that moments are not frozen in time, that we cannot return, even one second backwards?

If I am a vanishing mist, then surely time is as well.  It seems to vanish before our eyes.  Look at one person near you. Try to make time go backwards, the smallest movement of a foot, a breath, it is gone forever.  Where has it gone? It has vanished.

Scientifically speaking we are mostly water, isn’t it interesting then, that we would be spoken of as a mist?

So then, if we are to disappear as a mist,  what is to be said of the lives that we are living while the moments are vanishing, of the time that cannot be recaptured?  We FEEL as though our time is limitless…we can do that tomorrow, I will tell my kids I love them tomorrow.  I will work on my marriage tomorrow.  I will seek Christ tomorrow.   “Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring”.

I am angry, because I have been awakened from a wonderfully ignorant dream. A dream that tells me I have forever with my family. A dream that tells me nothing changes and life is full of dreams come true.  But sooner than I can think that one dream is happening, it is vanishing just as quickly.  How then do we live?

What is to be done with the vanishing time?  What will remain when I am but a vanished vapor?   Only that which is eternal, will remain.  Good or bad, the eternal things, they do not vanish, they do not end.  My body, it will vanish, my soul…it will not end.     It is a difficult concept in the world of ticking clocks.  But, the Bible that tells me that time is vanishing also tells me that eternity will be forever.  I see, I experience, I taste the reality of vanishing time.

The vanished time cannot be re-captured.  It’s memory remains, God has kept a record of it, but otherwise it has vanished….let us live, with the constant reminder that our days are numbered, and have been from the foundations of the world.  Not one of us can add too or take away from our time here.  I pray that our lives be lived to the fullest, for the Glory of God alone!

These pictures were taken at a memorial cemetery in Wilmington, NC.  As my son and I drove through and read the names of the men. I prayed, “Lord, speak to him about his life, about the brevity of it.’

4 hours later, on our drive back to Southern Georgia, we passed a devastating wreck on the highway.  An 18 wheeler, off the road, it flew into the trees, the trailor exploded along with its contents.  The driver’s cab was all ash and smoke.  We were very close to it, as I was looking at the scene with morbid curiosity, my son burst into tears, weeping…he is 10 yrs old.  ”It’s so sad”, he was crying.  We held hands. He cried for awhile, we talked about life, how we never know when it is our time to go, but that nothing can change our appointed hour.   At his tender age, he has been in two violent car wrecks, his life and limbs spared both times….

The Lord answered my prayer, He spoke to my son…He spoke to me, He is showing me the brevity of life and that I am eternally in His keeping.

Love,

Molly

My daughter was not happy either, she pitched a fit about it, and my husband stood his ground.  I was tempted too, to talk him out of it, which I knew I could do.  But, every time I was about to air my concerns, a still, small, voice told me to, “shut up and take the vehicle”.   So we did.  We were set to leave around 10, I had an appointment that was delayed 30 minutes.  We stopped at Wal-Mart, and I uncharacteristically made it in and out in 20 minutes…I told myself that I was going to make it through and show Andy how fast I could do it.  We then drove through Taco Bell, and we were stalled by children who were unsure about what they wanted to eat.   As we were driving down the highway, headed towards NC, not even 5 miles from home, I looked up and saw a cloud of smoke and dirt in the median, and then I realized that a car was flying out of it. IT seemed so far in the distance and in an instant, it was 5 feet from of us, airborne…Andy barely jerked the wheel and we were struck at 50 mph, in his driver side door.  Airbags deployed all over the vehicle…over every window, at my side, at my husband’s side.

The loud thunderous crashing of metal on violent metal and the cracking glass, it’s a sound I will never forget.

Food flew to the front, cheese, beans, dirt shrouded the exterior and we could see nothing, we were bouncing and bouncing…we had no idea where we were.  The children were screaming in absolute terror…Andy and I had the wind knocked out of us, we were silent.  We were frozen and waiting for the vehicle to come to a stop.   And we did come to a stop, at the bottom of a 30-40 foot embankment.  The vehicle should have rolled, it didn’t.    As I was climbing out of the vehicle, up the hill, witnesses to the wreck were already on their way down to help us.  We took the children out one by one, all screaming, all shaking…my daughter covered in blood from a slice through her cheek…two children with enormous goose eggs…everyone shaking.   My husband calling family, calling our pastor, EMT’s checking everyone, loading the ambulance…the hospital…5 hours of tests, x-ray’s, stitches, pain killers…My four year old in a neck brace as they were assessing her head injury…I collapsed on her bead and wept.

I KNEW, I KNEW, I KNEW that the Lord had preserved us. I KNEW that He had set things in motion, weeks earlier, for us to be in the safest vehicle possible.  It could have been His will that some of us perish, or had serious injury…but it wasn’t, not last Saturday.

He has so gently reminded me again, that there is nothing I can do.  I am in His hands. My husband, my children, our lives, they are ALL in HIS hands.  So why should I fear?   Yes, it is difficult to ride in vehicles now. Yes, we are all still in pain and frustrated with it.  YES, we are all safe.

Saturday was not our time to die.  But, we know that each of us has an appointed day, an appointed hour, where it will be our time….we will stand before a Holy God, either covered in the blood of Christ, or not.   And there is NOTHING that we can do to change that which HE has set in motion from the foundations of the world.

Can we trust Him?  Absolutely.  If half or some of my family had died could I still trust Him? Yes.  IF, my family is taken or separated by death will He still be good, just and Holy?  Yes, yes and yes.  So what do I have to fear except for His awesome power? Nothing.

God’s Everlasting Love: Romans 8:31-37

31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect?  It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.  35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;

we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Fear only the one who holds you in His hands….there is nothing you can do to change it, and it is MARVELOUS!!!

love,

Molly

I suppose I could be grieving the loss of the life we moved from, missing friends…I am not exactly sure.  But, I know one thing, I cannot stay this way.   So what do you do when you feel like giving up?  What do you do when feelings and emotions take over.  You preach to yourself and you sit under the preaching of God’s word.  I know no other cure.  Prayer is essential too, but what if the will to pray your way out of a valley has ceased?

What if you know you are being self-focused and are unmotivated to stop feeling sorry for yourself?  You MUST preach to yourself and sit under the preaching of God’s word.

Romans 12:2 (Romans 12)

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

SO while this post is short and sweet, it is essential, it is true, it must be done.

She approached me first, told me she had read my blog.  Really? How did she even know I had a blog?  What?    Within minutes we were fast friends. Sharing pain from our past, sharing trials and shockingly, we had SO many things in common.   Now I am wondering why I still try and size people up at all….what a waste of time.

We even both lived in the same city in NC for awhile.   She let me in to her home just last night, and she was open, honest, transparent and she shared her heart with me.

I discovered many things.  She lives in a home that was once her grandmothers.  a GIANT home, with room for her precious little girls to run and play. A perfect place for hid and seek.

But she has also lived in 800 sq feet with her young family and often on the verge of poverty.

She fed her ravenous, bottomless-pit of a baby boy, while her 2 year old, climbed on her, needed this….she needed that.    Behind her, where we sat, was her soap-making bar.  All-natural soaps that smell good enough to eat.  She sells them at the local farmer’s market.

“He works so hard”, she said compassionately about her husband. “I feel like he feels guilty if he puts his feet up before it’s time for bed.  Between his job and the pig farm, he just works all the time.”   And sure enough, he came in from work said hello to us, changed and was out to change tire, in the pouring rain.

One thing was obvious.  She LOVES her family.  ALL of her family.  She talked about her younger siblings as though they were her own children.  She told me how she adores each and every one of them.  How her heart breaks if theirs breaks, how she prays for them all.   She is a woman of oozing love. She loves them unconditionally.

I asked her about being redeemed….what had God done in her life….what was her testimony of His love and forgiveness in her life.

Amy couldn’t remember when it had begun.  Her childhood was full of longing, to be with her parents.  She spoke of physically longing and aching for her daddy at the young age of 3. “But I just KNEW that God was always with me, I can’t really explain it”.    ”Looking back, I can see how God had placed people in my life who loved Him and that cared for me.”   It was in high school that her sin was beginning to burn in her heart.  ”I had always seen myself as a victim, as the good girl that did nothing wrong, and here my sin was STARING me in the face.”    One of those people that God had placed in her life was there to share the amazing gospel message with her.  The message that Christ gives salvation freely, the message that He died to save us from ourselves.

There were other things.  Very painful things.  Things that shape and scar a young girl.   Things that shape and scar a young woman.   Sometimes the eyes tell those stories best.

She put the baby to bed, the little ladies followed us everywhere, full of life and energy.  They are each so happy….you can see the hours of endless care that she has poured into them physically, emotionally, spiritually.   Amy asked me to excuse her boxes.  I reminded her that I live in a house with 5 children.   She shared her decorating plans with me, and if you know me at all, you know what a sucker I am for ANYTHING that invovles a trip to Hobby Lobby.

She showed me the girl’s suite.  a perfect place for little ladies to grow and be nurtured….not because of the actual room, but because of the woman behind every detail of their lives.

“Did you feel my bed? Come and feel it!”  The oldest, little lady demanded…in a very sweet tone.  I assured her that I had sat on it, and what a great bed it was for a little girl.  She smiled.

“We have chosen a life verse for each of our children”, Amy told me as I asked about the paintings above the girls beds.   “I painted this one, a LONG time ago.”  Truly, a woman after my own heart.

She began preparing dinner and we wrapped up our time.

I know that God has told His story through His daughters in many, many different ways.

Sometimes dramatic, sometimes not.  But, aren’t all of His ways with us magnificent?

His slow steady hand and leading are woven throughout her life, a hand that she could not have dreamed up, a hand that held her in her darkest places.

Amy and I shared another longing too, and that is that God would be glorified more often, verbally, between His children.

His works with us are never ending, His goodness mind boggling.

How good He is.

How amazing that  He brings His girls together, for His purposes.

Lord bless my sister Amy, May you be continually glorified in her life and all that she says and does.

May her children rise up and call her blessed, and may there never be a day that they do not know you.

Love,

Molly

It’s been nagging at me for awhile.  I noticed that I put my children off, more and more, so that, “mommy can get her work done”.   I have been fooling myself.    We have what we need.  Maybe not all that we want, not all that we desire.  We eat simple foods, we run low on money (or out of money) and so I justify this new life.  That , “I MUST”, get it all done.

This wasn’t the original plan.  I never had distractions when my children were younger, and now as they are getting older and they need my heart and my mind, I am pushing them away, more and more….so that I can WORK?  For MORE MONEY?!?!   I am trading them for money?

Yes, I have been.  They feel it too.  I have felt the hypocrisy of it for the last 6 months.  Working, working, money….isn’t it what our society pushes us towards, all the while the fleeting moments with my children are leaving, never to be returned to me?

It all made sense yesterday.  Depression was taking over my spirit.  I was praying, feeling as though the prayers were on a boomerang that worked its way right back to me.    But, they hadn’t.   I believe the Lord was letting me feel the full brunt of my self- created misery, so that I would make a change.   So we are going to make a change.  Come October, all of my obligations will be met and we will be shutting down.  And I will joyfully have less money, less new things, less places to go and I will give my heart back to my family.   It’s time.

This world offers us so much as women, so many opportunities. Some good, some not.  Some are meant for a season…., “but I am doing just fine, you may be saying”.   That is great, this about me, what I am screwing up.    James 4:17, “For whoever knows what the right thing to do is and fails to do it, for him it is sin.”      You may not be under conviction for the exact life that I have been living, and I am not saying that you should be. But ,I am. And if I know what He has shown me to do, and I do not do it, than I am sinning.

Dear friends, I am not making a mandate, I’m making a change, in my home.  IF you are feeling the same pull, let me encourage you, pray through it, seek Him and HE will make it clear to you.

Twitter, Facebook, blogging….I’ve spent too much time in the virtual world….back to the land of the living for me.

love,

Molly

Our pastor preached on this passage this morning.   “All of the 19 negative qualities that are listed stem from the first one….’lovers of self’”.   I honestly didn’t want to hear those words this morning.   Do I love myself in an ungodly manner?  Ungodly being that I am in some way, my own god…my own idol.    I keep thinking that I reach a place with the Lord where I am doing well, and then I hear a sermon, like this one.   (I think I’ll go weep a little, hold on).   Okay, I’m back.   “Lovers of self”, the words turned over and over in my mind.  I kept reading on and listening, “having an appearance of godliness but denying its power”.    I felt immediately convicted.  Not, over my sweet church, going self. Over my home self.  The private me, the me that God deals with and scourges and changes.   “Having an appearance of godliness.”    I honestly racked my brain to see if  I even qualified as having “an appearance of godliness”.

I could just ask my children, and my husband…they have a way of telling me what I am missing.  Let em just admit, right now, that I am a hypocrite.  As the apostle Paul said, “I do what I don’t want to do.”    The old battle of the self with the spirit.  Tonight would not be a night that I would get the “Dying to self” jewel in my crown.

I know many mothers who are naturally wonderful, self-deniers. It has been a battle for me.  I have loved me in a wrong way. Sure, Christ died for me and He loves me and I should love what He loves, but this is different, I dare even call it love.  Putting myself above God’s calling on my life is sin.  Focusing on my wants, needs and desires over my family is sin.   Edith Schaeffer was one of my early mentors as a young wife and mother. In her book, ” What is A family?” , she states it well:

“There are modern drives for fulfillment, for happiness, for equality, for freedom, for peace at any cost, for “doing what comes naturally,” for”doing what feels good,”  for “existential living,” for “open marriages”, for “denying standards,” for abandoning “stuffy words and concepts” such as responsibility, loyalty, faithfulness, sacrifice, trustworthiness, endurance.”

How often these concepts are now ignored and families are daily destroyed through the lies that we all deserve to be happy.  Our children are being taught that they are entitled to happiness.  Are we teaching it to them?  Even if we have no TV shaping their brains, are we sending the messages of self-denial, responsibility, loyalty, faithfulness, sacrifice, trustworthiness and endurance. This, my friends, is where I feel convicted.

I had many days where I fell into the category of the “Weak women” in the scripture passage above.  I have been burdened with the sins of discontendedness, self-pity, greed, selfishness…and on and on.  I was easily led astray by various passions. Passions for a movie-worthy romantic life, passions for more material possessions, passions for a different life than the one I was living.   How do I know they were wrong? Because they produce the opposite of peace and sacrifice in my heart. They stir me to anger, my anger is then passed to my family and our home is out of order.  I know, because my home reflects my heart and if my heart is not full of the mind of Christ, then my home cannot possibly reflect His love to a world that needs Him.

I’ll let Mrs Schaeffer wrap up this week’s post:

“The Bible gives what might seem a very contradictory list of words we need to think about daily in the practical business of living. “He that loses his life shall find it” (matthew 10:39). Yes, it is for the Gospel’s sake, but on further reading one realizes that here is a truth which takes place in many ways. It is the bread-cast-on-the-water-returning kind of thing. A woman who puts aside “happiness and fulfillment” as primary, and begins to think of the needs of husband and children, finds herself amazingly more fulfilled (if there is time to notice) as days go on.  A man who puts his children and wife and home first, before falling into the arms of somebody who seems to “understand” him, will find that, as time goes on, the total of what he has found can’t be compared to what he has lost.  Reaping what you sow is another thing that simply turns out to be true.”

God help me to reap goodness, selflessness and servanthood.  Help us all Lord.

Love,

Molly

When Macy saw the enormous, intricate mansion…she almost didn’t dare approach it.  Happy children ran past her as though it was their first, original home. They came every morning, before any other part of their day.  They looked so clean, their white linen play clothes blew in the breezes as they skipped and sang.  She looked down at her coarse, torn, thickly woven dress.  It was grayer then the dullest toad…and her skin, filthy, and unclean.  She stood at the gate many days, longing to go in, only she could not bring herself to enter. The gate was open, but it may as well have been locked tight in her mind.  And as another morning passed, she returned to her humble cottage where she lived with her mother.

She felt it deep down, the hunger….her stomach growled, her mouth watered for taste and substance.  Her mind was dreaming of the foods, the smells of baked meats and gravies. But the rain interrupted her thoughts.  As she looked at her mother, broken, never to be whole again, often half out of her mind with hunger , Macy, wondered what they would eat.  She was her mother’s only family and her mother was hers. What would they ever eat?  And as the rains poured harder she had a thought that had never once before entered her mind, ” The Master.  Eloise had said that he fills stomachs…and minds, or something like that”.  She prepared herself for the worst and took off running toward the mansion.  She was cold, hungry, aching and out of breath. A cramp hit her side and then a pebble pierced her foot.  The gates, were open as always.  The rain poured down her face as she wiped it from her eyes, she strained to see. Would it be safe to even search for the Master?  She strained to see the front porch, the 12 stairs leading to the top and there she was momentarily paralyzed.  It was the dark shadow at the top of them that stopped her cold.

A chill went down her spine as she, with much trepidation, strained the eyes ever harder.  A man? The Master?  She wouldn’t know, she had never seen him.  But he continued coming closer and there was movement about him. It was his arms, he was beckoning her to come to him.  A burst of excitement shot through her veins and then it was quickly squelched as she remembered how different she was from all those that she had seen go inside.  ”He is still waving at me to come in”, the thought was so puzzling, so backwards in her mind. And then she saw his face, and nothing could keep her in the cold, miserable, lonely state of standing in a thunderstorm any longer. She ran up one step and he quickened to meet her. She had thought she had so far to go. She never realized that he would meet her where she was and carry her up the daunting steps to this magical, mysterious place that she had never seen.

And quite rapturously he lifted her without effort and ran her into the mansion.  He sat her on her feet and lifted her chin to his face.  ”I knew you would come” his gently spoke to Macy.  ”How did you know?” she asked, completely stunned.  ”You see, I have watched little wandering children for longer than you can imagine. ”  Her eyes grew wild with curiosity.  ”I know that on sunny days, my sweet, young ones run to the doors, and I know that others watch them.  They stare at their clothes, their faces.  But, they never budge beyond the gates border.”  His eyes spoke ten times the words that he was saying, and she never wanted to look away or hear any other voice once she had heard the Master speak. “That is, until the great storms come.  When the rains come, not so many come first thing in the morning.  But, I always, always will have one, such as yourself, decide to come.”

“You see Macy, I am on the great porch, at the entrance of this home, everyday. I have been waiting for the right moment to  beckon you…but I never did catch your gaze.  You would study the gate, the road and all of its pebbles.  I dare say that you could draw perfect resemblances of the little ones who come here everyday. You have studied them so well, but never once did you look for me, until today, the day of the storm. I knew you would come.”

Macy felt such a strange comfort.  This mansion was warm, welcoming and beautiful.  The Master walked her through the great halls to the kitchen.  He had the happy chef prepare a culinary work of art for Macy.  ”A feast for the eyes, a feast for the tummy and THEN, little one, THEN you will get clean!”   Macy smiled, giggled.  Food, glorious food almost too gorgeous to eat was served  to her. As she savored every bite, she could feel the worry fall away.  A sweet, new friend, led her to the bathroom.  She handed her a beautiful new dress.  It was white, like the other children.  ”It is okay” the new friend told her.  ”We all have been given our new clothes. Not one of us has worked for or earned them, they are a gift from the Master.

Macy had begged for food before, for money, but she had never been handed anything so beautiful. She felt an indebtedness that was new to her.  She dressed and went running through the great halls in search of him.  She stopped many times to view the Masterpieces hanging on almost every inch of wall space.  Many took her breath away in their near perfection. She had never seen anything like them.  There were others, not as impressive, but they were hung up there, next to the most beautiful ones.  As she rounded the last corner she found him. “Do you like all of my treasures?  The masterpieces?” he inquired.  ”Masters-peace” is what Macy’s mind decided on. She had never heard such a gargantuan word…but she knew the Master and she knew what peace was. Yes, Masters-peace it would be.

“Where did they come from?” her sweet voice rang  joyfully in his ears.  ”These” he spoke so gently, “have come from little ones, just like you.”  Some of them have learned with me for a very long time. Some only just painted their gifts upon arrival.  But, each one, each one used what they could to make these gifts.  Some could buy fine canvases, others salvaged boards from old buildings to paint on. Some, could buy paint, others searched for berries and leaves of all kinds, for days on end, just to mix their paints.”    Macy was fascinated, “Well, I am sure you the love the prettiest ones the best!”, she confidently spoke.    ”The Prettiest ones Macy?” the master questioned.  ”I am the only one who can see the true beauty in these Masterpieces”.   He smiled at her and she at him.

Macy returned home that morning with food for the day, a clean outfit, clean skin and a happy heart.  All she could think of was making her own master-peace for the Master. In fact, it became consuming.  She wanted to thank him for his kindness.  But, how, how could she possibly create such beauty.  She looked at her mother’s sleeping face, it was the only beautiful thing she really loved.  Day after day she would go to the master in the mornings.  He would talk to her and teach her.  She didn’t tell him what she was working on, although he knew already.  He saw her stained hands and the resemblance of paint under her nails. He had seen it all before. scratched ankles from tromping through the forrest.  scratched hands from picking berries, where there were also thorns.

Macy came later to the Master on this particular morning.  Here eyes were bloodshot, her hands worn, her feet weary. The muscles of the young one were very sore as she walked much slower than normal to the masters home.  But, too she had never been so happy.  She had her ‘masters-peace’, and she could not wait to give it to him.   She went inside and waited for him, as she grew impatient she also began studying the other gifts.  Her’s had looked so much better, before she put it next to the others. She now felt like weeping and she saw greater and greater inadequacies in her gift.  The urge to run away welled up within her. “I can make it home and try again” she planned. Yes, she ran fast, she was inches from the door and as she opened it, the Master stood ready to greet her. She quickly tried to hide it behind her back.

“Good morning precious little one”, the Master greeted her with a smile and a bit of a playful look in his eyes.  He could see the corner of her gift.  Macy could not bring herself to looking at him.  She knew he would most certainly see her gift now.   “Macy, what is that behind your back?”.  The Master knew already what it was.  Macy slowly pulled it to her front and continued staring down as the wet streams of despair ran down her cheeks.  She looked at again.  Her strokes, once appearing smooth, now seemed rough and scattered.  She had somehow captured the peaceful face of her mother, and she couldn’t help but love it.  ”But how?” she ached,  ”How will he ever see this as beautiful next to all of the other gifts?” .

“Macy”, and once again the Master lifted her chin to him. Her eyes, now swollen with tears. The tears now reaching the painting and washing it with her deepest hopes.   “Macy, is that for me?”, he had lowered himself to her height and he looked deeply into her life-filled eyes.  She couldn’t even speak.  Macy simply lifted the gift to him and collapsed at his feet sobbing.  She wept and wept.  All the while, the Master held her close.  She had never felt this type of peace. How do you feel peace in the midst of brokenness?   She never, ever, ever wanted to leave his side.  As the tears subsided she looked up at him with the most humble, human contentedness that could be seen in a young one.  He gazed upon her with such joy that she had forgotten about her gift, but the Master had not.

He pulled it forward, one arm around Macy.  ”Macy, look at what you have done.”  She felt that maybe it would be pleasing to him now.  ”It is so beautiful” the Master beamed and hugged her close to his side.  ”I see so much in the face of your mother. I see the days on end that you have loved her, fed her, provided for her.  I see your tears in every stroke.  I see the scratches and scrapes on your hands.  The thorns that have stuck you unexpectedly.  I see there, in those beautiful blues, every moment that you have felt alone.”   Macy wondered if he had different eyes than she did.  ”I see Macy, that you must have worked so very hard. I see that you thought only of pleasing me.  I see that you went where you had to, even if it meant injury to your precious body, you thought only of pleasing me.”  Macy was overcome with love for him.  She was overcome with his peace.  The Masters-peace.  It was finished.  ”Macy, let’s go hang your Masterpiece.”   They walked and walked into hallway after hallway.  They ascended staircases until the reached the last hallway closes to his chamber.  Macy thought that the most exquisite masterpieces would be in this high, glorious place. But she was wrong.  It was lined with paintings much like her own. They did not seem so glorious as the detailed works downstairs.  There were a few of those placed here and there…but, mostly they were the visibly less desirable.  A perfect spot was open and the Master sang as he attached it to his happy gallery.

“Macy, do you know why these are my favorite?”. She honestly would not have picked them.  ”No, master. I do not know why. They seem so plain to me. They are not as rich and costly as so many of the others.”  The Master gave a joyous chuckle, “Hahaha!   My child, that is because you see with eyes that can only see materials and skill.  I can see every moment that went into the Masterpiece.  I see who suffered to paint. I see many who were given paints and lessons and had great skill, but it cost them little personally to create their Masterpiece.  No, sweet Macy, I see you when I see your gift.  And nothing is more beautiful to me than the first and last layer of your Masterpiece being layered with tears that desired to please me.”

Macy ran to embrace him and he dropped to his knees to catch her. “Well done dear one!”  He laughed with delight, “Well done Macy!”.  She couldn’t believe her ears and her eyes again filled, only with tears of joy this time.  He lifted her chin once again to meet his gaze.  ”Now Macy, another gift for you.  It is my peace. I give it to you, I will leave it with you. I will always be here.”  And Macy believed every word he said.

Not the End!

How often my home has fallen short. How inadequate a wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend I have been.  I know He has counted my tears in a bottle. I know that He has given me His peace, for my efforts.  He looks on our hearts.  My home has sometimes been a house that was falling apart. It has sometimes been a place of rest.  May it always be, my “Masterpiece”.  On the last day, I want to hear the words, “Well done good and faithful servant, enter now into your rest.”