Waiting

by   August 30, 2019 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

This is my gardening bench, patiently waiting for Spring. Pots are ready. Dirt is on standby. Spades long to be picked up and used for good. Nearby chairs rock slightly with the winter wind. Even though the sun is shining, the calendar reports that it’s only February. Wait we must.

I could force the issue. My indoor starter plants beg to keep my potting table company. Roots of sweet potato vines and Wandering Jew would feel much more at home in dirt than in the bottles of water on my windowsill. Sunshine can be a deceptive friend. She calls out, “Come! Why wait? Let’s take charge of this day!”

Experience warns that sooner is not always better.

So we wait.

And pray.

Lord, please fill these hands… these pews… these hearts… this table… my empty bed… my life… this crib.

The hope we once had disappears behind the dark cloud of disappointment. And we continue to wait. And pray.

“I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”*

Then one day, winter becomes a distant memory.

“I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the LORD never ends. His mercies never cease.” **

Dear sweet Lord of heaven and earth, please strengthen us in the waiting. Help us give You glory, knowing You love us and care about our lives. You have given us the desires that wait in our hearts. You’ve told us to ask and never give up.*** Thy will be done. We love and trust You ever more.

*Mark9:24

**Lamentations3:20-22

***Luke18:1

Worth The Time

by   August 26, 2019 with No Comments

By David Freeze

    Only on a rare occasion will I do a movie review, mostly because I don’t see as many as I used to. Plus, I am probably a harsher critic than most. Books often move me more than a movie because I have found out much more about the characters by the time the story concludes. Rarely now do I feel an intense connection to a movie plot. Today, I was totally immersed in a movie that looked especially interesting as soon as I saw the trailer.

      During my own extensive travels, I find the hype of places and things often disappoints once seen in person. This movie was my Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, the rare sightings that are even greater than expected.

    “Overcomer” came out today (Friday, August 23rd) and I saw it during the first showing at Tinseltown in Salisbury. Two screens were showing the movie and regular TV commercials had promoted it. Nothing about those two statements would make me go see a movie otherwise, as I’ve found the better ones often don’t get such attention. In this case, I just couldn’t wait to see the movie.

     What grabbed me was the story although I won’t begin to give away the plot. I’ve been known to nod off in a theatre and miss a third of the early action or lack of it. Overcomer didn’t lose me at all and will be hard to ever forget. Reflecting on the plot, every main character had something to overcome, just as most of us do. Within the plot of the movie, all of them succeeded in some measure. Some greater than others, but still they all moved forward.

      The movie trailer tipped me off to some of the action, just as it should. The successful basketball coach and history teacher, his wife, their two sons, the cross-country runner and her family and the school principal, all important throughout.  

     Yes, cross country and running in general are a huge part of the story and the first things that drew me in. I love running, have been at it many years, and everything related to the training and races was especially well done.

     One question asked several times in the movie was, “How do you define yourself?” And at what point does Christian make that list? We can relate, at least I know I can. What do the first two chapters of Ephesians tell us about how God sees us and why He sent His son to die for our sins? What does His love guarantee us once we place our faith in Him?  

     For the rest of the day, my thoughts haven’t left the movie for long. I’ve told many others to make sure they see it. A sure sign of a great movie—when it ends, nobody moves. And while the long lists of credits play, much about things and people we don’t know or fully understand, people still linger and take time gathering themselves.  

    Go see this movie! You’ll laugh, cry (a lot), be motivated and desirous of hammering out your own identity in Christ. Take everyone you know. And be ready for deep reaching discussions afterwards.

    As a person who has sought adamantly His help in difficult situations, often with humor and hope, my own hope is that this movie draws you in and intersects with your own story, just as it did mine.   

I Got My Permit

by   August 25, 2019 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

I got my permit! Those four words may very well be the most exciting words a 15 year old will ever say to their friends.

A permit is defined as the official documentation or authorization to do something.

But… the emotion that goes along with that permit, may pale in comparison to how the parent feels about relinquishing the driving of their 3000 pound vehicle to them while they practice.

And it does not get any easier when they are allowed to practice at night.

However, even though my preferred bedtime is 9:30, I willingly got in the car and traveled on the passenger side to purchase a much-needed milkshake at 10:00, because my 15 year old wanted to practice driving in the dark.

I reported to my passenger seat duty – ready to alert him to any – and all – pending obstacles.

The first comment he made after driving a few minutes was, “Look how the light lets you only see what is right in front of you. We are completely surrounded by darkness everywhere else.”

I felt a ‘God moment’ may have come, so I dared to shift my line of vision from the road in front of us and took a look around me.

He was right. We were enveloped by darkness – except for the light shining out from our vehicle.

I think I actually felt the darkness. To the right. To the left. Above. Behind. It was everywhere. Except in that one place – the direction we were heading – where it gave us all the light we needed to see the way.

Then, a few seconds later, a car was coming from the opposite direction without their lights on, and it honestly seemed a little scary for us both. That was when my 15 year old asked this wise question, “Why would they do that?”

I responded, “They failed to turn their lights on, and they probably do not even realize they don’t have light. They will figure it out before it’s too late, I hope.”

As I said those words, I instantly became a distracted supervising driver, because that was when I remembered a Bible verse I had read that morning: Isaiah 45:7 – I form the light and create darkness. I make peace and create evil. I, the LORD, do all these things.

That Bible verse that had seemed unusual that morning sure was making sense on the dark road that night. It enveloped me – hovered sweetly in my mind – letting me know that my God created the darkness, but He also formed the light – and He watches over us in both darkness and light.

We may prefer to drive through life in the times of light, but we experience both light and darkness, don’t we?

And…both can help us to learn to be the person who God intends for us to be – and to serve the purpose that God intends for us to serve.

*And we do not have to be afraid of the dark because even when it seems to surround us, the light still shows us the way.

*So, I guess we all have our permit – if we know God – because He is the only documentation and authorization we will ever need. He is in control of it all!

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

School is Opening

by   August 24, 2019 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            This is a very strange week for me. All of my former colleagues are heading back to school and I am not. Why is there such a big smile on my face as I type that? The truth is, I am going to really miss being with my former colleagues and friends. You get close to the teachers you work with on a daily basis. I will miss catching up with them and hearing about their daily lives.

            The first week back for teachers is one that is filled with meetings. There is very little time to actually be in your classroom preparing for the students. There is so much that needs to get done that most teachers stay way past quitting-time. There is the cleaning, decorating, getting handouts ready, and finding some time to actually start planning your lessons.

            The students in Stanly & Davidson counties arrive next week. Here in Rowan County, the students are already back. I always loved starting in early August because we got out in May. It is so hot in August, you might as well be in school. Late May and early June are so much nicer to be out of school. It is also nice to get first semester exams out of the way before Christmas.        I have lots of opinions about education, like the importance of work-based learning. I also believe in starting school later in the morning versus earlier. All these opinions are no longer important. The political powers will make decisions and schools will go on without me.

            I want to be very clear here. I believe in our public schools. They are great places for our kids. There are some awesome teachers out there who make a huge difference in the lives of their students. I never once felt unsafe at school, thanks to the SROs. I know so many teachers who give their hearts and souls to their students.

            I gave 34 years of my life to the public school system and do not regret one moment of it. I tried to always give my best to the students. I tried to reach the students using a variety of instructional methods. I know I wasn’t perfect and there is always room for improvement, but I worked hard and I loved my job.

            Are the public schools perfect? No. There are people in every organization and business who do not bring their A game to their jobs. That doesn’t mean that all schools are bad. It just means that schools are just like every other organization. For the most part, schools are filled with people who love and care about the students that they serve.

            To the parents of students, allow me to share a few thoughts. First, I know this is tough, but your little angel is not always so angelic. Children make bad decisions no matter how good of a parent you are. It’s OK. It’s better that they make the mistakes now where there is a good safety net. Support the teachers and schools because we all want the same thing…to see your child grow up to become a responsible adult in our community.

            To the parents, grandparents, and community members I have one request. Please pray for the students, teachers, cafeteria workers, bus drivers, staff, and administrators of your local schools. We need God in our schools. He will protect us. He will guide us. He will inspire and encourage us. He will give us wisdom as we face the many problems that are in our society. He will love and support us when times are tough. I will say it again: We need God with us every day in our schools if we hope to raise up the next generation.

            I believe in the power of prayer to change situations and circumstances. I promise you I prayed before I went to school. I also knew how important your prayers were to my success as a teacher. No one can do it alone. Schools and school systems need our prayers.

So let’s join our spiritual hands and lift up our local schools, asking the loving and gracious God of heaven to bless the 2019-2020 school year. I encourage you to support the schools in your community, especially if you have children or grandchildren going to school. Your prayers, cards, and encouraging emails are truly blessings to the teachers who are working on the front lines. May God bless you and our schools as they look forward to a great school year.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

Garden of Grace

by   August 23, 2019 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

A gardening rule I’ve come to appreciate is this: When combining plants in a large container always use a thriller, a filler, and a spiller. The thriller is the plant that stands tall and gives presence. The filler is usually understated and fills in the gaps. The spiller flows gracefully over the sides adding beauty. Here’s a little example from my porch. What I really love about this combination is that it was all free. The tall bromeliad was a gift from my sister a few years back. It bloomed a giant red blossom and I hear it’s still got the potential to bloom. Right now, I’m not so sure. It seems to be content with just standing tall in the background.

The middle plants with the dark purple and gray stripes are Wandering Jew. My friend Ann broke off a few sprigs of that and I kept it indoors in a bottle of water over winter. Now it fills in the gaps nicely.

The bright chartreuse vine in the front is a sweet potato plant which also lived on my windowsill over winter. Together in the beautiful pot my daughters gave me, the combination is kinda pretty, especially for no money spent. Don’t you love making something out of nothing?

Some of us are still waiting to bloom. A lot of us are just glorified weeds. Some feel completely unnecessary. But the lovely blue pot wouldn’t be nearly as attractive if any of the parts were missing. I think it’s the combination of different strengths and weaknesses that makes the prettiest bunch.

Whether you stand tall, fill in the gaps, or spill over gloriously showing off God’s goodness, you are a beautiful part of the garden of grace.

“How strange a body would be if it had only one part! Yes, there are many parts, but only one body. The eye can never say to the hand, ‘I don’t need you.’ The head can’t say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you.’ In fact, some parts of the body that seem weakest and least important are actually the most necessary.”

-1Corinthians12:19-22

Hope

by   August 19, 2019 with No Comments

A bruised reed shall he not break, And smoking flax shall he not quench, Till he send forth judgment unto victory.

And in his name shall the Gentiles hope.

Faithfulness

by   August 17, 2019 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            When I sit down to work on my column each week, I reflect back on my week and think about how God has been working in my life. I know I write a lot about gardening, but that is a time when my mind and spirit can concentrate on the Lord and I can hear so much from Him. My reflections from the garden may not be as positive as usual, as the deer came and feasted on my corn. I am not happy with the deer.

            We did have some luck from the garden. We have enjoyed some potatoes and beans. The tomatoes are in a lull right now. Some of the vines have died, but others are putting on some flowers and bringing me hope of a late fall harvest of fresh tomatoes. The first squash plants are dying back too, but I do have some that I planted later that are blooming pretty right now.

            You see, it is easy for me to write about gardening. I do wish that we could get some rain over here. There has been rain all around us recently, but my yard is really dry. I look out and see some of the trees have leaves that are turning yellow. I am spending lots of time watering in order to keep things alive.

            As I look back at last week’s calendar, none of that appears on it. What does appear is notes of friends who lost a loved one. Two people from my church lost loved ones and I wanted to be there for them. I go to a relatively small church and we are like family. When one of us is hurting, we are all hurting. I haven’t been to a funeral in a long time, and to go to two in one week was a bit overwhelming.

            I always have trouble with what to say to the family who is hurting so badly. Imagine that, someone who loves to use words to write, struggling with words to offer a family that is suffering a great loss. I feel so inadequate. My words seem so empty. How can I come up with words that will help comfort and bring healing?

            It is only upon reflection that I realize that it is not my words that help to bring comfort, it is simply my presence. When we take time to be there, devoid of platitudes, giving a simple hug or even a handshake can touch and mean so much. Giving moral support in a time of loss means the world to those who are struggling.

            One thing I do know is that we have to be careful with our words when someone is grieving. Often, we want to offer platitudes that we intend to comfort the hurting, but could actually have the opposite effect. It is especially important with parents who have suddenly lost a child. It is better to hold them, say you are sorry for their loss, and hold them some more. I can’t imagine that pain or ever being able to fully recover.

            The situation could be different for people who are caregivers who have endured a long, debilitating journey of suffering with their loved one. The words, “your loved one is in a better place” could actually bring the comfort you desire. No one wants to see a loved one suffer. But even in this case, I believe your presence and your prayers can mean more than any words you could offer.

            A few friends have lost loved ones, and what I discovered was that listening can be the best medicine. They didn’t need my words. They coveted my prayers and my presence. A warm embrace and allowing them to shed a few tears on my shoulder was what they wanted the most. My words would have seemed hollow and empty, but my presence was appreciated.

            This is a hard column to write as I know of several friends who are facing the loss of their loved ones. My heart aches for them. I find myself praying for them often throughout the day. I wonder what more I can do. I stay in touch and reach out with love.

            I want to encourage you to be there for people who are suffering from a loss, or even those who are enduring the role of caregiver for their loved ones. People often feel alone during the darkest hours of their lives, but we know they are not, AND we have to let them know they are not alone. Our presence means so much, especially when our words seem so insufficient.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

The Inheritance

by   August 16, 2019 with No Comments

The Inheritance

By Lynna Clark

My beloved mom-in-law passed away a few weeks ago. She was such a beautiful soul. And funny… oh my word! The things she would come up with. She had special names for certain things in her life; like the big white robe she wore in the winter. Often she warned us not to be alarmed if we saw a polar bear ambling around her house as it was just Big Bertha.

When she could no longer walk with just the assistance of a cane, she began using a walker with a seat. It had a little basket where she would load her gardening tools as she puttered around the yard. Inside the house she would load it with cleaning supplies or laundry for that long trip down the hall. She dubbed it her “Cadillac.”

She had a pink blouse which she always wore to the doctor. More accurately it was mauve, that dusty rose color which was popular in the eighties. Her daughters tried every way they could to get her to wear something besides that godawful shirt as it did her no favors. However she always went back to it. Though mauve is code for ugly, she brightened it with her smile.

We’ve begun cleaning out her home of over fifty years. You can’t even imagine the treasures we’re gleaning. So far we’ve only gotten to the kitchen. We checked expiration dates on the foods in the pantry and laughed so hard at the things she hung onto. David suggested that if the date began with the words “In the year of our Lord,” we could probably assume it was too old to consume. In the back of one especially low cabinet was an unidentifiable figure. It appeared to be a dried corpse of an animal from yesteryear. David’s sister bravely pushed it into the floor with a broom. The four of us stood hovering over it trying to make out what it could have been. David finally scooped it up with the dustpan and took it outside. It was larger than a squirrel and had a funky shape. The sisters told me I could have it as part of my inheritance. I was more than thrilled.

Later as I thought again about the dried up mystery animal, I remembered bringing Nina some driftwood from the beach many years ago. She had expressed wanting a piece to put a little ceramic bird on that I had brought her the year before. Apparently the two treasures never met as she always had lots of projects in the works. In fact that bird is probably buried somewhere in her craft room which our middle daughter lovingly renamed Nanny’s Crap Room. It is an accurate description and we can hardly wait to go through the treasures there.

What I love about Nina’s kids, Jo, Gail, and David, is that they’ve been able to maintain their mother’s great sense of humor as we do the necessary things. No pushing, grabbing, or resentment; just working together to honor their mother’s last wish of having a happy home. The closest we’ve come to fighting so far has been over a pack of bacon.

Very graciously I have been included in the dividing of assets. Along with the driftwood shaped like a varmint, I’ve been given her cement pineapple which was always her southern symbol of hospitality. Though I do not share that same sentiment, I love that she did. I tucked it by my side entrance behind a large hosta lest anyone get the wrong idea. You know how I feel about entertaining visitors I do not know. All you “angels unaware” might as well fly on down the street to someone more Godly. However, if you do happen to knock on my door, don’t be surprised if I’m wearing a mauve shirt. Too bad it didn’t come with Nina’s sweet smile.

Proof That I am Not Alone – Part 2

by   August 14, 2019 with No Comments

Proof I’m not riding along – By David Freeze

Part ll

     Part l with the surveyor still is one of the best stories about my bike rides and of my life. But this summer’s ride to Alaska has a continued lesson about His presence on my cycling adventures. You’ll see why I ask every day, “Lord, ride with me.”

     On just my third day of the Nevada to Alaska cycling adventure, I found myself on a warm day with lots of hills and my water consumption had increased to the point that I needed water soon. I had left Doyle and then Milford, California, assured in both places that there were supply points ahead. I had all my bottles filled with water and a squeeze filter strainer should I need it to drink out of a creek or stream. This option didn’t appeal to me unless the water was moving significantly, although the packaging said that even standing water would be safe. I had 3,000 miles to ride and didn’t want any gastric conditions.

      With temperatures in the lower 90s, I kept pushing north through the challenging terrain. On US 395 in these parts, traffic is insignificant. I did find on my map that there was a Federal Land Management fire station well north of where I was, but there was no guarantee of available water there.

     On a day that reminded me of the day six years ago when I needed water, the same situation soon became a reality. I was out of water again and if the FLM facility wasn’t staffed, would still have close to 50 more miles until the first town. It was a time to stop the bike and say again, “Lord, ride with me,” and this time I was specific about the need for water and how soon it was needed.

      Just a few miles after the prayer and on another steep and hot uphill, I spotted a no longer used rest area. This one had signs and concrete barricades to keep cars out. I stopped a quarter mile away and prayed something like this, “Lord, its hot and dry and I need water. I have never seen a rest area out here with water, particularly an abandoned one. But Lord, if its OK with you, I ask you to provide me with a source of water.”

     I pedaled on and rode through a gap in the barricades and looked around. The bathroom buildings were locked and signs were everywhere to keep out. But off to my left was the most uplifting sight of my trip, a long galvanized pipe spewing spring water at a constant rate. My incredibly selfish prayer had been heard, although that pipe had probably been there for years.

     Within minutes, I drank three bottles of the wonderfully delicious water, ate a few cookies, and felt wonderful. The peace of knowing that my prayer connection has such power comforts me incredibly.

     I left the rest area with a huge smile, but wondering how often those around me realize the power of prayer. No doubt that the Lord does ride along daily.

     On ahead, once I topped the summit of this particular mountain, I did find that FLM fire station. Firefighter Ryan Rodd had me come in for a fantastic peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made even better because I was no longer thirsty. Still Ryan, from North Carolina, told me that I could top off my water bottles in his station. I did, but nothing could possibly have beaten the taste of that spring water!

      Lord, Ride with me today! is the title of my first book and remains my thoughtful request to start a cycling day. I have no doubt that He is with me today and every day.

Give the Gift

by   August 11, 2019 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

Our eyes met as I was rounding Aisle 7, while hurrying through the grocery store. I had to do an after school pickup in 20 minutes and honestly, there was no time to talk to my friend that I had not seen in quite a while. But, I knew I needed to talk with her – and I wanted to talk with her. She had lost her husband a few weeks earlier – and I saw the grief in her eyes.

 We hugged. We cried.

She talked. I listened.

Oh, how my heart hurt for her.

 Our short window of time that day came quickly to a close. Our conversation ended as I knew I could not leave my grandson without a ride home from school. So, we prayed a quick prayer together, and as we parted, I said these words, “I’ll be praying for you.”

 I did. That day, I could only think of her – the grief, the hurt, the pain. I prayed. Then, I prayed the next day. And the next. And probably even the next.

 But… one day I realized that it had been days since I prayed for her – during the most difficult time of her life. My promise had been short-lived.

 I put the blame on my memory. I put the blame on my busy life. I put the blame on _______. (Just fill in the blank with any excuse.) I put the blame on everything – but myself.

 I’ll be praying for you. Those words seemed so empty even to me – and I was the one who said them.

 That is when I gave myself a good talking to – through the guidance of the Holy Spirit and God’s Word.

 I remembered:

 *When we pray, God hears. God listens.

*When we say a name in prayer, we are giving that person an amazing gift – their name transcends from earth to the God in heaven.

*A connection is made from our lips, our thoughts, and our hearts to the ears – thoughts – and heart of God..

 It is called the power of prayer.

We forget sometimes that we have a direct link.

Luke 18:1 says we ought always to pray – and not to faint. To faint means we lack in strength or enthusiasm.

Do we believe it matters?

Do we believe God’s Power is > than our power?

Do we believe God hears our prayers?

Do we believe we are really talking to God?

I believe we do.

Do we believe we pray enough?

I believe we don’t.

Can we change that?

I believe we can.

Will it be worth it?

I believe it will.

Lord, help us to remember to pray always and not to faint. Help us to give – and receive – the gift of prayer. Help us to remember to pray for someone when we say we will. Amen

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

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