I am a Gingerbread House: A Poem

I am a gingerbread house,
My frame made
From the finest ingredients
Imported from a secret place.[i]

Valentines for the Soul: Can't Stop Thinking About You!

How precious it is, Lord, to realize that you are thinking about me constantly! I can’t even count how many times a day your thoughts turn toward me. And when I waken in the morning, you are still thinking of me!

—Psalm 139:17 TLB

Have you ever had such an enjoyable first date that you didn’t want it to end? The two of you seemed to connect on so many levels, and the chemistry was undeniable. You went to bed that night and tossed and turned. You couldn’t sleep because you kept replaying your conversation over and over again. The next morning you couldn’t stop thinking about your love interest. You could hardly wait to hear from them again.

That’s how God feels about you. About me. He never stops thinking about us. His thoughts toward us are precious and immeasurable. They are “thoughts of peace,” says the Lord, “and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).

Dear Lord, How precious and wonderful to consider that you cherish me constantly in your every thought! O God, your desires toward me are more than the grains of sand on every shore! When I awake each morning, you’re still with me (Psalm 139:17 TPT). Thank You, Lord.

Clues that Point to Christ: Have you seen them?

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

—Matthew 2:1-2

My grandchildren enjoy scavenger hunts, especially those on the farm. On Thanksgiving I planned one for them, more difficult than others they had completed. It started with a clue that led them to another and so on until they reached their prize. Each clue was tricky, a riddle of sorts with a fill-in-the-blank challenge. Here’s one. And by the way, all of the clues rhyme—so a clue within a clue.

        It’s a shape nailed on the shed.

        You see these at night up high overhead.

        What are they?

Handprints of Love: Adding to the family

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

—John 3:16

My family started a new Thanksgiving tradition last year. After dinner each of us used a Sharpie to write what we were thankful for on the tablecloth. My daughter-in-law Tara traced her hand to create a turkey, then others followed suit. This past Thanksgiving we used the same tablecloth but decided to paint our handprints instead. Adults applied paint to children’s hands, then pressed them firmly to the cloth. Afterwards, they quickly rushed them to the bathroom to wash off. Tara and Rebekah painted their spouses hands too.

I left the tablecloth to dry on a rarely used table. That same weekend I happened upon some 30 year-old Mother’s Day artwork that included the handprints of my son Tim. What are the odds of that?

I placed the artwork next to Tim’s handprint on the tablecloth and marveled at the picture of growth. My mind traveled back 33 years to the night of his birth and how I marveled at the miracle in my arms. I counted all his fingers and toes, memorized the slope of his nose, and was in awe over his curious blue eyes and few strands of blonde hair. I wondered if the colors would change or if he’d always be my blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy. What would he look like as a boy, a teen, a man? Who would he become?

Busy as a Beaver: What trail of evidence are you leaving?

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

—John 13:35

“See that?” my father gestured toward a tree trunk sharpened like the tip of a pencil, then toward another limb gnawed on both sides.

It sure looked like evidence of beaver building to me. Then Dad led the group of us family members to the water’s edge, its level higher than I had seen in a while. He pointed to the dam.

I took in the scene, my eyes scanning the glassy surface, punctuated with a mound of limbs and leaves, my ears tuned to the relaxing fall of the water. Peace washed over me. A nice reprieve from the busyness of life.

Drawn closer, I stepped to the edge and followed the flow of the stream, my feet crunching dry leaves and crackly twigs. Keeping watch for obstacles that could cause a stumble, I caught glance of a trail of wood chips leading to the chewed remains of a branch. I lowered my eyes to inspect the pile, marveling at the work of the creatures. The evidence was all around; the beavers had built a home. And I was standing in their domicile.

Does God Really Love Us All The Same?

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

—Romans 5:8

“Pick a sticker,” my five-year-old granddaughter Addie said, holding out a sheet to her father, my son Tim.

“Ok,” he said, as he began to lift one.

“Not that one!” Addie interrupted, “That’s for someone special.”

“What?!”

“That’s for Grandma,” she whispered.

“Ooooh,” Tim acknowledged.

Addie turned toward me. “Here, Grandma. This one’s for you,” she said, peeling off a pink flower sticker.

“Well, thank you! You know pink is my favorite color, and I love flowers!”

“Uh-huh,” she smiled, as she nodded knowingly, her blue eyes meeting mine.

Returning the smile, I pressed the sticker firmly over my heart.

A Perfect Fit

Draw close to God, and God will draw close to you.

—James 4:8

The door creaked open as I made my way onto the deck and out popped that blonde-haired beauty, her round face turned toward me.

“Hi, Miss Addie! How are you? I’m so happy to see you!” I greeted my granddaughter.

Addie smiled as wide as the open door, and I quickly entered, placing my take-out dinner on the table. I scooped her up and kissed her soft cheeks, first one then the other.

“Are you going to play with me?” She looked up with pleading blue eyes.

“Yes, I am. What do you want to play?”

“This,” Addie pointed to a matching game. “And puzzles.”

I knew that. Addie is the queen of puzzles. She can put them together faster than any three-year-old I know. Heck, faster than me.

“But first Grandma needs to eat her dinner,” her mother Tara reminded, “And you and Eli need to eat too.”

“Let me give Eli a hug.” I lowered Addie to the floor to pick up 11-month-old Eli. His big blue eyes fixed on mine and his mouth broadened, revealing two cute little teeth situated at the front of his bottom jaw. I smothered him with smooches while he twisted this way and that.

“It’s time to eat, Addison,” Tara said while she brought food to the table. “You can put Eli in his high chair,” she gestured toward me.

Before I could wriggle Eli into his seat, he was already reaching for his food.

As soon as the children finished their dinner, their parents were out the door for their post-Valentine night alone.

“Now will you play with me?”

A Valentine Surprise

“Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure.”

—Psalm 16:9

I told her “no.”

But here I was, two hours later, asking myself, Do you really want to spend Valentine’s night alone? I already knew the answer, but I worried about the impending winter storm. Should I really travel the distance in my car with malfunctioning heat? All the newscasters were warning viewers of the dangerous “feels like” temperatures.

But it’s sunny now. Leave while there’s still daylight, and you’ll keep warm in the sun, I tried to convince myself, And dress in layers and bring a blanket and pray.

But I should stay and work more on my writing, I argued.

I had just finished the Afterword for the devotional I was writing. Now I was scrolling through the Facebook news feed, trying hard not to envy all my friends who were spending Valentine’s with their sweethearts and showing off their lovely bouquets of roses.

I had hoped this year would be different for me, for God knows I've prayed about my situation over and over again. One of the hardest parts about being single—and an empty-nester—is not getting hugs on a regular basis. There are times when my craving for affection is like an extreme thirst—like how I get after taking some of my medicine, which makes my tongue as dry as dust . Try as I might, I just can’t quench the thirst. 

How He Loves

…how good is a timely word!

—Proverbs 15:23 

“What? Just five days into my plan, and you fail me!” I talked to my tablet, as if that would help. I poked and prodded, opened and closed. But my daily Bible reading plan refused to appear.

I shook my head, Why did I ever sign up for this? I should have stuck with the old way.

Recently I told a friend that each year I choose a different version of the Bible to read and that I just purchased the English Standard Version. I boasted how I bought the study Bible half-price on New Year’s Day.

Casually she mentioned, “You can do that on your tablet. You can choose whatever version you want on the Bible app.”

“I know, but I like holding an actual Bible.”

But when another friend told me that he too used the Bible app, I thought, Perhaps it’s time for me to check it out.

When Your Sign Falls Apart

Examine and test and evaluate your own selves to see whether you are holding to your faith and showing the proper fruits of it.

—2 Corinthians 13:5a 

My mouth flew open and I stopped the car and stared. What on earth?

Right there before my eyes was the wreckage of my former house number sign. I got out the car to examine the mess. A closer inspection revealed that the nails had popped out of place, causing the boards to collapse. Apparently, changes in the weather and exposure to the elements had caused the wooden boards to swell. Over time, the swelling pushed out the nails.

Now what? I’m not handy with tools, but I know the sign must be repaired—for the same reason it was installed. A number of years ago all residents of our rural county were ordered to post house numbers, mainly for location identification purposes for first-responders to a 9-1-1 call. Even though responders can now rely on GPS, having a sign for location confirmation is still helpful.

I stood there gaping at the remains and wondered how I never noticed the boards were pulling away. Perhaps if I had taken the time to inspect it regularly…

The Sign

I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.

—John 10:9 

I picked up the wooden sign I received as a gift. The desk was not the right spot for it.

Over the living room doorway would be perfect!

I rummaged through my tool box for two sturdy nails, all the while rethinking my decision. What if the sign falls while someone is walking underneath it? What if one of my precious grandbabies is crawling through? I shuddered to think of the unthinkable.

Wishes for Baby

Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.

—Deuteronomy 11:19

He’s coming soon and we’re getting excited.  We’re preparing and bringing gifts, for the baby boy is on the way.  My first grandson, that is. 

On Saturday we celebrated with a baby sprinkle for his mom, my daughter-in-law Tara. Some of you may be wondering what a baby sprinkle is.  Designed for mothers who already have a child and the big ticket items that go with babies but need gender-specific clothes and accessories, a sprinkle is a scaled-down shower.

This was my first time hosting a sprinkle, and I wanted to keep it true to theme—simpler than a shower.  Not a lot of over-the-top shower games, but something different.  Thanks to the Internet, I found an activity, which invited guests to write fill-in-the-blank wishes for the baby. After the gifts had been opened and the guests settled down with sprinkle cupcakes and sundaes, we took turns sharing our wishes.

My Most Romantic Valentine

A little deviation from my usual post...

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.

—Song of Solomon 6:3 

“Really? But I’m trying to write my blog post.” Still in my pajamas and propped up on pillows, I hammer away at the keyboard—in between checking Facebook, of course. I read my friends’ posts and like their Valentine’s pictures.

“Shut it down. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Huh?  It’s 8:30 in the morning.”

“Put your sneakers on.”

“But what about my sprain?  The doctor said…”

“Put your sneakers on.” (Psalm 37:23)

I trust you, so I dress quickly. I slip on my sneakers. Hmm…my foot doesn’t feel too bad. I think I can do this. (Philippians 4:13)

"Could we drive to the dumpster first?" I ask. "I have a pile of junk to get rid of." (Ephesians 4:31)

You smile and nod, as if that were all part of your plan in the first place.

I drive to the barnyard dumpster and am careful to avert the muddy ruts left by those who have been here before. I would hate to get stuck in this mess. Quickly, I throw out a bag of garbage and a box of things that weren't working. Whew!  It feels good to pitch them.

Never Clueless

But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.—1 Peter 2:9 

“I’m surprised you didn’t find the crest,” said high school student Mariah, referencing the pendant necklace borrowed from my colleague for the after-school murder mystery.

“What crest?  Where was it?” cried the students who had just completed the clue-finding circuit.

As leader of the campus ministry, Mariah had orchestrated every last detail of the outreach event and recalled where she had placed it. “In the garbage can in the ladies restroom.”

“The only thing we found in the garbage can was the journal.”

I knew that was true, for I was the one who had RE-placed it there, having rescued it earlier from the custodian’s trash hopper.

A quick check in the restroom confirmed our fears.  The crest was gone.

Battle Scars

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”—Luke 10:27

It’s been 10 days and they’re still there.  Battle scars, I call them.  One on each wrist.  I had received a call for help from a friend, but before I set out to assist, I checked the oil in my Jeep. The “Add” warning was clearly visible on the dipstick, so I went to the shed to retrieve a quart (or two!) of oil. I reached into the box and searing pain shot into my right wrist.  I cried aloud, as several angry wasps swarmed around me, one becoming entangled in my hair.  I swatted it away, and a second dose of pain shot through my left wrist.  Again I cried aloud and left the shed as quickly as I could before the fury escalated.

I made my way to the house without sustaining another blow and whipped up a remedy of baking soda and water.  I applied the paste to both wrists, and then poured both quarts of oil in the Jeep—enough to register in the “Safe” zone on the dipstick—and was on my way.

Rainbow Words

By Desiree Glass

The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made.—Psalm 145:13

I call it a “brain ingrain”—a repetitive activity to teach a lesson, that is.  I’m not sure what Jacob’s teacher calls it, but she certainly implements it with her pupils.  Her daily homework assignments include a spelling activity designed to ingrain proper spelling of designated words.  Once a week I assist my 7 year-old nephew with his homework.  He can choose from an array of spelling activities, like writing each word three times or writing each word in a sentence.  But most often he chooses rainbow words, in which he must write each word in pencil and then trace it three times using three different colored pencils.  Sometimes he doesn’t feel like doing any of his homework.  I sit next to him.  I encourage him and coax him.  Sometimes I demonstrate the letters.  Other times, when Jacob gets tired and wants to quit, I promise rewards for completion.  Is spending time with me making a difference for Jacob? I wonder.