Gratefulness

Tomorrow we celebrate Thanksgiving Day, a day
for being grateful. I notice that in the last few decades
"Thanksgiving Day" has given way to "Bargain Day"
in preparation for "Christmas Day." The very word,
"thanksgiving," implies dependency, humility,
acknowledgement of God. It is an old fashioned
word, isn't it? Victorian, out of date, a "lets move on,"
kind of word.

Gratefulness means "a state of being grateful." Lots
of things have not gone my way lately. Little things
that eat away at the vine of thanksgiving, and the
state of gratefulness. It helps to have space on this
day before Thanksgiving Day, to recognize what is
taking place in me, to confess it, to acknowledge
that God is directing every little thing, is at the
center of everything--even my failures. "He works
all thing for good," but I can't see the big picture.
I need His perspective on the events of life.

The Psalmist cries:
"Give thanks to the Lord for He is good:
For His mercy endures forever!" 

Have a joy filled Thanksgiving Day!

Home

I am making soup in a kitchen overlooking the
Snake River. The sun floods in belying the
freezing temperature outside. I pick up a plastic
glass whose rim is bent. I wonder...how old is
that glass, anyway? Thirty, forty years? Every
summer it holds the black cows of ice cream
and root beer. The carpet has not changed,
neither has the paneling or most of the pots and
pans. I write in a chair my father-in-law slept in
every afternoon. The wood fence along the
property was built by my teenage son and his
Grandpa. That son turns 40 in a few days; that
Grandpa died 23 years ago. Our children came
here as infants, and now my daughter bathes her
son each summer in the very same bathtub.

When my mother-in-law returns we will ride
over to the farm house soon to be our dwelling
place. But, we change houses the same way some
people change clothes and it is nice to be part of the
town where Glen grew up, to linger in a house
that holds so many memories.
It is good to be home.

Stories:

http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html

Celebrating Ruth

My Mother-in-love turned 90 yesterday so family and
friends showed up for church and then some cake
followed by stories. The Fellowship Hall was packed.
Ruth grew up on a farm in Weiser. (She and her son
attended the same two room grade school but the
plumbing had moved in by the time Glen arrived.)
Ruth went off to college and met a man from Denver;
they married and eventually moved back to Weiser
where they raised four boys. These "boys" are now
close to 60--or middle sixties-- in age and have
children and grandchildren of their own, making
Ruth a great grandmother four times.

Ruth played both organ and piano for church for many
years, but now settles for the piano once a month. She
walks a mile at the high school gym four days a week
with her "girl" friends. She plays a mean game of dice,
works Sudoku and cross word puzzles daily. Ruth also
belongs to a number of clubs that meet monthly. But
most precious to me are her loving ways and her
willingness to share her living space with us during this
time of transition--even the dog is allowed inside.

I call her Mom.

"Charm is deceitful and beauty vain,
But a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.
Give her the product of her hands, and let her works
praise her in the gates." (Proverbs 31:37)

Mountains

When I think of mountains I think of both physical
mountains and mountains of problems. The writer
of Psalm 46 is speaking of the physical ones that
cause problems!

(Because) God is our refuge,
(Because) God is abundantly available for help,

"We will not fear, though the
     earth should change,
And though the mountains slip into
     the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains quake at its
     swelling pride. (Psalm 46:2,3)

Yesterday I checked out the earthquakes recorded
around the world in the last 24 hours. There were
53 tremors listed above a two; some related to volcanic
activity. Hierro is one of the islands that makes up
The Canary Island chain off the coast of Africa, but
claimed by Spain. Each of these islands was formed
long ago from volcanic activity. In the last few years
Hierro Island has experienced new activity to the point
that vents formed in the water off shore changing the color
of the water and killing fish. These vents have have
closed but there are multitudes of small earthquake swarms
each day beneath the island with some hard enough to
be felt by the inhabitants. This is not just a local problem.
An active volcano could split the island causing large
chunks to fall into the sea creating a giant Tsunami.
"A mountain slipping into the heart of the sea."

In the last few weeks there was a Typhoon that crossed
the Philippines just weeks after they experienced a killer
earthquake; the middle of our country suffered from
a swath of devastating Tornados.

God says that these things will happen, but because
He is our refuge, we are not to fear. Really? I do not
do well in emergencies. Fear rises. However, God
has given me scripture to camp on. It tells me that
my God IS a very PRESENT help in trouble. He
is my refuge. "He will never leave me nor forsake 
me." I can go with my feelings or with the truth. I can
camp on God's truth whether or not my feelings fall
into line.


   

Abundantly Available

The last couple of days I have been in Psalm 43.
Listen to the first verse:

"God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble." 
(abundantly available for help.)

I read the first line and it makes me think
of a huge mountain of rock. God is currently,
now, a place of both safety and a place of
"keeping on" when things look black. His
strength is abundantly available.

I am in Him--so He is my refuge
He is in me--my strength

Jesus says to His disciples:
"Father, You are in Me and I am in You...
then, "I in them and You in Me."
John 17:21,23)

Jesus speaks of our indwelling in Him and His
indwelling in the Father, then His Father indwelling
in Him. Wrap your mind around this, It really is
His Victorious Indwelling!

I think that I am alone because I feel alone, but
the truth is that I am never alone; the mighty
Savior is abundantly available for all my weaknesses
and fears. He is a very present help in trouble.

Papa, Today I choose to walk in the truth and not in
what I feel.

Stories:

http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html

Hurry Up--and Wait

I don't like the word, "wait." It implies passivity. It
implies inaction. Yet, how often throughout life we
find ourselves waiting for something. I waited to grow
up; I waited for a groom; I waited for children. We
hurried to get the house on the market, but now we
are waiting for it to sell--the buyers we had, backed out.
We are waiting for our furniture to arrive, for the
internet to be in place. It feels to me like the first book
of The Narnia Tales, where the children get stuck in a
world where nothing happens. We have left the area
where we lived for 20 years, but we cannot see clearly
what is ahead. There is grief over the loss of friends and
our neighborhood. Someone once likened moving to
the stress and anguish of a divorce.

This morning I had a chat:
"Papa, I don't like this. It feels like it has been going on
forever. And, I have nothing to say to my readers."

I heard Him whisper:
"My darling Jane, 'Be still and know that I am God.'"

Morning Has Broken!

The sun came up pink against the trees and the
river. No fog today. In the last few intense days,
we "found" the perfect place for us to live in
this season of our lives. It is not in town but
out about five miles on what is called "the flats."
We had spent the better part of the week looking
for a house to buy knowing that there was
nothing to rent. Two days ago I called the Rental
Agent that I had been working with back in
September. "Oh," she says, "I have a rental that
has just come up. It will go fast. Do you want
to look at it?" So, late Wednesday, we drove
out and walked through a house in progress. It
will be finished about December 1. It is a two
story 100 year old farm house nestled within farm
land with a spectacular view of the low hills
beyond. This house had been rented two months
ago and then the prospective renter decided not
to move in. I called just as the property went into
the paper. Here is the real kicker. The house and
land around the house is owned by Glen's cousin
and her husband who is the farmer! We are thrilled
and they are thrilled. I had a walk through this
morning and will be putting some pictures on
Face Book.

Dear Reader, do you not see the hand of God in
this? He has been working through the days of fog,
but now morning has broken. Praise His Name!

Fog

It was early morning as I glanced out of the
window. I could see nothing of the river or
beyond. Fog, thick fog covered everything.
As I watched, the scene began to unfold. The
trees on the bank turned gold, then I could see
a bit of water flowing. This was followed by
the outline of the island and finally the trees
beyond the river came into view. They were
there all the time but were obscured.

We find ourselves in fog. We know we are to
be here. God has made that very clear. But the
next step is fuzzy and the rest is obscured. Do
we really need two cars? Maybe we should
rent and see. Do we buy or rent a house? We
begin this part of the journey today, knowing
that God has laid it all out ahead of time and
He will unfold His plan as we walk forward
one step at a time.

Glen and I are at the library working on our
computer "stuff." He sits across the room in
a chair and I hear someone say to him, "Well,
Professor Reeves..." Who is this? Was it
someone he knew from years ago, or someone
he met yesterday at the Senior Center? I find
myself smiling.

Stories:

http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html

Unplugged

I came back from Arizona and then four days later
we moved to Idaho. We don't have access to the
internet and our e-mail server canceled our service
the day we moved--by mistake. So, I don't have
the ability to access my mail, which is not moving
either way, anyway. I am at McDonald's today to
work on my blog and discovered that my last post
never posted.

Not much else is moving. We have changed places
but things that should be in place hang in limbo. Our
house has not sold, lots of lookers. So much seems 
to hang on that sale.

But, am I really unplugged? God says that He will
never leave me nor forsake me. He is providing us
shelter, food, and a wonderful mother-in-law, who,
can run circles around me. She is almost 90!

And the gifts, so many gifts. An early morning sunrise
reveals the mist on the river, highlights the gold along
the shore and outlines the fog between the hills beyond.
A setting sun flashes color into the clouds turning
everything a brilliant pink. The dog does a flip into the
leaves as he dives for his ball. New faces among the old
at church on Sunday. I see God's hand of mercy in so
many ways--if I take the time to really look.

My new e-mail: jcreeves60@gmail.com.
Stories:

http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html

He Was So Excited

We sat next to each other on the trip home, but
he said little. Many side glances. But that all
changed once we arrived at his house. The two
year old ran. He ran, hopped, jumped and then
flew into my arms. We spun around and then
checked out the house together. Later he was
warm against my chest as I read from his favorite
book. My Grand Boy nestled into my neck before
His mother and I tucked him into bed. Beautiful!

Stories:

http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html

Grace

Months ago I made a reservation for a flight to
Phoenix and ten days with Noah, my favorite grandson.
I decided to use this reservation even though it seems
an extravagant use of time in the midst of stuff.
When I got to the airport I was sent to another line.
The pre-screened line! How did this happen? Not sure.
It was like the old days when we could stay dressed!
Since I was using miles I opted for more leg room and
The seat next to mine remained empty. The show
outside my window constantly changed  and included
a very long sunset as we headed west. It was a lovely
five hours of solitude, reflection, anticipation.
Sweet, sweet, sweet.