Message in a Bottle: Have you ever sent one?

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.

—Psalm 56:8 NLT

Messages have been tossed into the sea since before the time of Christ, many to chart ocean currents but others as pleas for rescue or love. Recently, I read a fictitious seafaring message, a quote from the 1999 romance film, Message in a Bottle, based on Nicholas Sparks’ 1998 novel of the same name. It piqued my curiosity, so I did some research on the movie. I read the review by critic Robert Ebert, who describes the movie as “a film about a man and a woman who believe in great true love. The man believes it's behind him; the woman hopes it's ahead of her. One of their ideals in life is ‘to be somebody's true north.’” Ebert sums it up as a “tearjerker that strolls from crisis to crisis” (Ebert).

The Bride: What if happily ever after doesn’t happen?

Let us rejoice and be glad

and give him glory!

For the wedding of the Lamb has come,

and his bride has made herself ready.

—Revelation 19:7

As soon as I opened my eyes and realized the date, my mind traveled back 35 years to my wedding day, the start of what I dreamed would be a beautiful family life. I recalled a poem I wrote that described the reality:

One sunny morning on the fifth of May

A young maid hurries to prepare for her day

She borrows her mother’s gown, aged an off-white,

And the gown fits perfectly to the bride’s delight!

With a delicate veil, she covers her face.

Eyes full of hope shine through soft lace.

Her heart races as she slips into shoes that are new.

She completes the old adage with a garter of blue.

A bouquet of pink roses she holds in her hand

While her attendants of three around her stand.

She takes that step that will change her life

As she walks down the aisle to become his wife.

A decade later on a sunny May morn

The bride wears a gown that is tattered and worn.

Three little children are her attendants this day.

Her bouquet has faded, and the groom is away.

Tears fill her eyes as she recalls that day

When she borrowed a gown on the fifth of May.

After many years, the heartache is old, nothing is new,

He has forgotten again, and the bride is blue.

Shortly after the poem was penned, my marriage ended, as so many others do.

 

She borrows her mother's gown, aged an off-white,
And the gown fits perfectly to the bride's delight!

X Marks the Spot: Have you found the treasure? What have you done with it?

“We are like common clay jars that carry this glorious treasure within, so that the extraordinary overflow of power will be seen as God’s, not ours.”

—2 Corinthians 4:7 TPT

What do you think of when you think of March? Spring being ushered in by sunny daffodils and fields of green? Or tricky leprechauns and lucky four-leaf clovers? Perhaps you envision the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Maybe this past month you even tried your hand at luck by purchasing a stash of Mega Millions lottery cards. As for me, when I recently thought of March, I thought how quickly it was slipping away, even more so when my friend shared a picture of his calendar marked with Xs on every date that had passed. I really didn’t like his picture, a poignant reminder of days no more, never to be revisited. It gave me pause, for the Bible says, “The reality is you have no idea where your life will take you tomorrow. You are like a mist that appears one moment and then vanishes another” (James 4:14).

I resolved to be more intentional about making days count and planned to write a blog post before I flipped the calendar to April. But life got busy, and I got stuck in analysis paralysis, pondering what and how to write, overthinking and under-acting, a trap that can keep any of us from responding to God’s call.

Matters of the Heart: Why are some prayer requests readily answered while others are not?

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.

—Colossians 4:2

Long after the chocolate candy was depleted, I kept the heart-shaped container, a delightful box in a vintage pattern topped with a red lid and satin bow. I placed it in the center of the table and soon found myself jotting down prayer requests on slips of paper and dropping them inside. My daughters added their own matters of the heart. My friends also contributed to the collection.

Most of those requests were written in 2011. I still have the box and the tiny slips of paper remain inside. I kept them so I could check later to see if and how God responded.

My daughter Emma, a new high school graduate at the time, wrote: “Kimmie getting better from her surgery.”