Saving the Best for Last

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As we walked toward the house I called David over to see what was poking through the leaves. “Look! Here’s more!” Like a kid finding Easter eggs I get so excited to see hosta coming up each year. As we rounded the house a few bright tulips nodded approval as we moved pine needles out of the way in search of more hosta. My favorite chartreuse variety springs forth a little later. It’s barely starting to show. Azaleas are full and brightly blooming along with the dogwoods. I thought to myself, “Too bad everything doesn’t look its prettiest all at the same time. What a show that would be!”tulips

David however, being the positive one of us commented. “I’m glad they don’t all bloom at once. Now we have stuff to look forward too, just like life.”

Soft white dogwood petals drifted to the ground like snowflakes. Easter has passed so they have permission to let go. Orange breasted robins play in their midst in anticipation of babies to come. Bright green grass fills in the muddy spots where snow once lingered. All of nature joins together in a song of worship as even the rocks cry out, “He lives, people, He lives! Why sit hopeless with your curtains drawn when a soft spring rain falls, sweetly watering all He’s created? For if He dresses us so beautifully and feeds us so well, will He not also take care of you?”Hosta3

As we moved indoors I sat by the window watching the rain fall as the birdbath filled to the brim. Dogwood petals continued to float softly downward. Soon my favorite tree will be clothed in the bright green leaves of summer. Daffodils which were the first to announce the coming spring have too quickly wilted. Though they’ll be back next year bringing hope at the end of winter, they too confirm that not even this season will last forever.

Someday we’ll meet the Lord face to face. As beautiful as this earth is, heaven is bound to be breathtaking. That’s probably when everything will finally bloom at once, for the Lord is surely saving the best for last!

We’ve really got a lot to look forward too!

The Lord is Our Shepherd

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By Ann Farabee

While on a field trip to a farm with my 20 kindergarten students, we saw some sheep. You know — those beautiful pure white animals that softly and gently say, “Baa.”

Even though they were in a fenced-in area, and my students were safely huddled around me, I laughed when one of the sheep emitted a true, “BAA!” Every student backed away, immediately and collectively, sticking closer than a brother to their classmates. Seriously, though. That “BAA” was really loud! Plus, that fleece was nowhere near pure white! Some sheep stats for ‘ewe’ to read:

• They have no survival skills.

• They will follow the sheep in front of them, even off a cliff.

• They bleat, grunt, rumble, snort. (BAA is a bleat.)

• Their main defense mechanism is to run.

• Most die because of predators or from stress.

• They have poor vision.

• They feed from dawn to dusk.

• They are often referred to as being dumb. Some shepherd stats for ‘ewe’ to read:

• They guide their sheep to the best pastures.

• They are skillful, guard, lead, correct and teach.

• They tenderly search for sheep that stray.

• They protect their sheep from harm.

• They bind their wounds when they are hurt.

• They nurture them through health problems.

• They shear and clean them to provide better mobility and decrease stress.

• They anoint them with ointment to bring comfort when troubled by insects, so they can rest.

• They stay with them during the darkness of night, keeping them safe.

• They put the welfare of their sheep above their own lives.

Those sheep. They sure are needy.

Those shepherds. They sure are good.

John 10 says that Jesus is the good shepherd, and the good shepherd gives his life for his sheep. He knows his sheep. He calls them by name. They know him.

Say this aloud: The Good Shepherd. Beautiful words, aren’t they?

We like sheep have gone astray. We sure are needy, aren’t we? The Lord is our shepherd, and we shall not want.

We once were lost but now are found. He sure is good, isn’t He?

I don’t know how you feel while reading this, but I sure was thanking God while writing it!

It makes me just want to look toward heaven, lift my hands in praise, and cry out to Jesus, “Baa…baa. I need You, Lord! Thank you for being my Good Shepherd!”

If we truly get a glimpse of how much our Good Shepherd loves and cares for us, I don’t think we will need to count sheep to help us get to sleep tonight!

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

Love Came Down

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By Ashlie Miller

Christmastime is a season of showering others with love in many ways – giving gifts, spending quality time with family and friends, giving more hugs than usual, sending greeting cards wrapped in encouragement, and serving by hosting, helping, and assisting. Our love tanks can be full if we are on the receiving end. However, if we are the givers and trying to show this love from within ourselves, it can leave us feeling depleted and exhausted rather than hopeful, peaceful, and joyful. 

Genuine love does not originate from within ourselves. It comes from heaven because:

“Love Came Down at Christmas”

Love came down at Christmas,

Love all lovely, Love Divine,

Love was born at Christmas,

Star and Angels gave the sign.

Worship we the Godhead,

Love Incarnate, Love Divine,

Worship we our Jesus,

But wherewith for sacred sign?

Love shall be our token,

Love be yours and love be mine,

Love to God and all men,

Love for plea and gift and sign.

(Christina Rosetti)

Jesus Christ, as truly God and truly man, was born for Christmas – even if His birth was not in December. As my Uncle Doug recently said to a young cashier in the checkout line who argued this point, “What matters is that He was born into my heart!” Love naturally manifests within the Godhead because God is love (1 John 4:7-9) and overflows into humanity as the pinnacle of creation – not because God needed us, but because He purposed to share that love for our own sake that we would know that kind of love.

The love of God is too vast for one column or even a robust paper. Here are only a few descriptions that come to mind: 

God loves us so much He sent Jesus, his only Son (John 3:16). The Father’s love is abundant (Psalm 86:15), an enduring love (Psalm 136:26), a faithful love (Deuteronomy 7:9), and love that allows us to be called “children of God” (1 John 3:1).

The love of Christ is one from which no temporal, earthly threat can separate us (Romans 8:35-39) and a limitless, unmeasurable love (Ephesians 3:18). He loves us so much that He willingly left the glory and love in heaven to dwell among men, Emmanuel. “All for love’s sake became poor” (from the song “Here I am to Worship”). Because He first loved us, we can begin to love others (1 John 4:19). Our very capacity to love is a gift from God! Because of that gift, as Christians, love should naturally overflow so that we can love one another (1 John 4:11). Our love for one another marks our very identity as disciples and Jesus-followers (John 13:34-35).

If you are a fellow believer, we can walk in love, with love, to love this season with hope, peace, and joy. If you do not know this gift of Jesus and the love of God, I pray you are on the receiving end of abundant love this season. 

Ashlie Miller is a pastor’s wife and homeschooling mom residing in Concord, NC. You may reach her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

Are You Ready?

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By Doug Creamer

            It’s almost Christmas…are you ready? We have been working on some last-minute details around here. I have a few errands to do and one final run to the grocery store. I always leave the wrapping until the end. Now, where is the baby Jesus? He has to be around here somewhere.

            It is hard to get everything ready on time. I think it takes me longer to do things as I get a little older. I am semi-retired; I should have more time. It seems like there is more to do than there is time to get it all done. Sometimes I sit down by the Christmas tree to catch my breath.

            I have attended a few gatherings this year and I determined ahead of time that I was going to be present in the moment. Sometimes we allow our schedules to drive us and the clock to determine where we need to be. I have purposefully slowed down to be with friends and family. I want to enjoy and remember the moment. I want to live and be present in the moment.

            I think about the craziness of my schedule and how I am inching my way through the list of things that I must get done. Then I begin to consider what it must have been like for Mary, the young mother of Jesus. All the craziness that I am enduring does not compare to what this young mother must have gone through to bring Jesus into the world.

            We have to remember she was only a teenager. I taught teenagers for over thirty years. A number of my students had babies through the years. In my mind, they were children having children. It’s challenging to raise a child today. Can you imagine what it must have been like in Nazareth?

            Can you imagine the challenge that Mary and Joseph faced trying to take a four day journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem because Caesar ordered a census? I am sure they would have preferred to wait for a more convenient time. Can you imagine their desperation, wanting to find a place to have the baby after the long journey? She had the baby in a dark, damp, and smelly cave where animals were put on cold winter nights.

            I imagine Mary struggled as she dealt with people thinking she was a morally lose girl who couldn’t wait for her wedding night. She knew she was a virgin, but who would believe her story? We know Elizabeth believed her, which had to be comforting. We hope that Joseph trusted and believed her, but he may have struggled with doubts of his own.

            I wonder if Mary and Joseph struggled with feelings of failure for the way they welcomed Jesus into the world. The best they could do was a cave? Yet God wanted them to know that He was more than proud of them by sending shepherds to congratulate and welcome His Son into our world.

            Sometimes we might feel like failures. Sometimes we think that maybe we missed God and His plans for our lives. We look around and think that maybe we didn’t accomplish enough for God. We wonder if maybe God might be just a little disappointed for trading His Son for someone like us.

            I want to be perfectly clear…God is absolutely proud to call you His son or daughter. You please Him just by being yourself. You didn’t miss God! Your heart has been in love with Jesus, His Son. Your desire has been to serve Him. You may wonder if you chose the wrong profession, but God needs representatives in EVERY profession to be lights for Him. He needs people where you are to let those walking in darkness see the light of His love. You are that beacon of light. You are that wellspring of hope. You are God’s love to them.

            I imagine that Joseph and Mary worried about every aspect of Jesus’ birth and upbringing, but God was with them, helping them every step of the way. I believe that God is with you, too. I want to encourage you to open your heart to God’s love this Christmas. He still offers peace on earth for you, if you will accept Him. He has answers for all that you are going through in life. It may not be easy…remember, Mary and Joseph didn’t have it easy bringing Jesus into the world…but I promise you He will help you each step of the way.

            Behold…the Savior of the world has come. Welcome Him. Merry Christmas and may God richly bless you this holiday season.

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

Being First

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By Roger Barbee

 In many situations being first is desired. Athletes train to be first in order to stand alone. Explorers take risks to be the first to reach an objective, such as a mountain peak, which will likely be named in the explorer’s honor. Students study to be first in their class to reap scholastic rewards. The winners in professional sports are richly rewarded by fan adulation and huge salaries.  In our culture, to be the first is to be special and successful. Being first is associated with being a winner, and the rewards for that will be vast.

However, there is one first that I wonder about, and that is being the first child. I wonder what it is like being the child on which parents work to perfect their parenting skills? What is it like being the child who is expected to help after the younger siblings arrive? How does the first child react to expectations that he or she had but that are not later made of the younger ones?  Does the pressure of being the yardstick for all children in a family ever lessen? How old does the first child have to be before the remark, “You’re too old,” stops hurting or stinging? How damaging is the mantle of adulthood placed too soon on young shoulders, and does it sometimes cause them to sag?

            As I type these words, all six children of my mother cover the range of the 70 aged group. But in a few days, the oldest, a girl, turns 80. Once again, she will lead us into a novel age decade. Yet she has led us before because she is the oldest: Into Marriage: On being the first parent;  She would be the first college graduate; She led us into and through many life experiences. In many ways, she showed us how to navigate life’s water.

            At one time the seven years between my older sister and me was a chasm too deep and wide to cross. But as we aged, that space between us grew smaller, and we developed a kinship that was not possible when, for instance, I was thirteen and she was twenty. The family baby is ten years younger than the girl who soon turns eighty, but those ten years are now nothing more than dates on a calendar. Life and aging have a way of closing such gaps, reducing the space that once seemed insurmountable.

            Our mother, a divorced mother of six children, worked hemming washcloths in Plant 1, Cannon Mills. Her life was hard, but her unconditional love covered us. Later after she retired and needed help to live in her mill house on South Juniper Street, my four sisters took turns spending a week at a time with her. Each Tuesday at Noon one sister would arrive, and one would leave. This rotations was done in their birth order, so for this loving gift, the oldest child was once again the first. Many observations and stories came out of the ten years my sisters cared for our mother. One often repeated story is how they all heard our mother walking through her three-bedroom mill house softly repeating over and over, “Just me and my six little children.” Each sister would share feelings about her time with our mother, and the oldest told me more than once, “Those days brought me peace with our mother.”

            Tobie now lives in the same neighborhood with her closest sibling, a girl two years younger. While that younger sister will soon enough turn eighty, the best thing of all is that they again share much of living just as they did when they shared the front bedroom of our mill house with another sister. Ponder that: Three adolescent girls sharing one bedroom!

            Life lived and shared, and Tobie was and is the first in so many ways. Some of those ways undoubtedly were difficult. Some were joyous. But all along the path she traveled, she left blazes–marks easy for her younger siblings to find and follow.

We’re in a Battle

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By David Freeze

Have you ever realized that we are in a battle during the holiday season? A battle for our own best self! Most Americans gain 2.5-3.5 pounds annually between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day. And nearly all of them don’t lose it, even with the later rush toward the gyms powered by resolutions. Ten years from now, that equates to an added 30 pounds.

Days are shorter and it is cold outside, making many of us reluctant to exercise outside or make a trip to the gym. It takes effort to exercise too, seemingly far less effort than it takes to sit down with a large meal or power our day with junk food. It’s my idea that we could stand the calories in moderation coupled with exercise though the period. I think the culprit is the junk food that gets eaten for various reasons in between the actual holiday meals.

I had yet another birthday this past week and one of my daughters brought me a wheelbarrow-sized tray of homemade brownies. I felt bad not eating just a few of them but having such a large batch made for a real dilemma. Thinking about all the extra food that seems to just materialize constantly during the holidays, what could I do? How can I keep my calories in check? I did a presentation just this past week to another group about the perils of junk food and much of it applies here.

Junk food includes soda, chips, candy, cookies, doughnuts, cake, pastries, some breakfast bars, liquid calories (sports drinks and specialty coffees) and more, things we grab quick. The combination of sugar and fats has been proven to be addictive. Junk food addiction is a thing, with its own withdrawal similar to drugs, caffeine, etc. Junk food addiction is considered an eating disorder, causing anxiety and depression.

Junk food is typically poor in nutrition and high in calories. It is full of high sugar, salt, saturated and trans-fat, as well as preservatives and processed ingredients. Body reactions include a spike in blood sugar, then a resulting crash (tiredness and hunger). High salt causes blood pressure issues. Junk food pushes body inflammation and decreased nutrient intake, and it also reduces a desire for whole, fresh foods. Junk food is also low in fiber which causes digestive conditions and even constipation. Other results are lower control of infection and a lower capacity for memory and learning. It raises bad cholesterol (LDL) and leads to obesity and allergies. Junk food makes up 30-35 percent of the average diet, but worse during the holiday season, traditional meals aside.

What to do? Don’t eliminate the occasional treat but pursue a flexible approach using 80-90 percent of whole or minimally processed foods. The remaining 10-20 percent can include ice cream, pie or a brownie or two. With this approach, we can enjoy the holidays or special occasions without obsessing over what we eat and potential weight gain. Grab a snack or meal filler of fresh fruit, nuts, low sugar yogurts and plenty of water.

Our heavy race schedule has slowed down after the Dec. 9 Global Contact Services Santa Run 5K at Sloan Park. There are no more races locally until the Bradshaw Rogers Financial Partners Resolution 5K on Jan. 1 at The Forum. Much different than the other races, this one is a low-key opportunity to make a commitment to oneself about a thoughtful, healthful and Happy New Year!

For a fee of just $10, participants get to run a safe course with individual timing, a left over, never been worn, race shirt from a 2023 event and plenty of refreshments. The top 10 males and females get a medal, and we’ll likely have some great door prizes.

Looking farther ahead, Salisbury’s well-known 41st New Sarum Brewing Winter Flight races will be held on Sunday, Feb. 4. More to come on all the big news surrounding this event! Find more on these and other events at salisburyrowanrunners.org.

Salvation is REAL

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By Ed Traut

2 Thessalonians 1:8 He will punish those who do not know God and do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus.

  • Certainly there is an end coming – the whole world agrees.
  • Those that do not accept this wonderful salvation gospel, which is a simple gift, will be punished and receive God’s judgement for it.
  • If we don’t know Him through salvation and relationship, then we are lost.  It is a free gift.  All are welcome.  

Prayer:  Lord, I thank You for saving my soul and showing me and my household grace.  I ask You to help me to reach out to the lost and not keep this message to myself, that they may have a chance, and hear and turn and get to know You I pray.  Amen.
 

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

I Hope it Ain’t Catching

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By Lynna Clark

I got a call from my granddaughter Kianna the other day. In the midst of delivering pizza to NAPA, the auto parts store, she was verbally attacked by a customer. It seems because Kianna was wearing a mask the lady in line decided that my granddaughter was in need of enlightenment. She accused her of being brain washed by the media, questioned her heritage and political persuasion, then proceeded to tie everything together with a sound cussing.

Sorry. I exaggerated a bit when I used the term “lady.” The strange overheated woman leaned in close and coughed on my granddaughter in hopes that she would realize a mask could not protect her. Never mind the fact that Pizza Hut requires masks on all their personnel. So I did what any Godly grandmother would do. I tossed several shovels into the back of the truck and headed to NAPA. As Kianna and I continued to talk I asked her how big the woman was.

“I think we can take her,” my lovely granddaughter replied.

“Alright honey. Here’s the plan. I’ll whack her in the head with my shovel. You hit her again for good measure. I’ll take her arms, you grab her legs and we’ll drag her into the woods. Between the two of us we can dig a hole deep enough to cover her crazy. Then I’ll explain to her that germs, politics, and brain washing are not the only dangers in our society.” I imagined pointing my finger in her face to drive my point home. “Now you lay there and think about what you’ve done!”

Kianna seemed pleased with the plan. The only problem is that she lives in Illinois and I live in NC; approximately seven hundred and twenty one miles apart. Even as fast as I drive the woman would likely be gone by the time I got there. Oh how I wish I could shake her ‘til her teeth rattle and explain the futility of a life lived in anger. I mean really! What the heck? What she doesn’t know is that my granddaughter just graduated high school in a year that was less than ideal. The child works two jobs and saves every penny toward college. When she is not delivering pizza she takes care of a beautiful little girl with severe autism. Instead of answering her attacker, Kianna took a step back and celebrated the $5 pity tip the guy who ordered the pizza gave her.

I couldn’t get there in time to make good use of my shovel, so I offered a bit of wisdom instead. Since she is headed to New York for college I reminded Kianna that the Lord is preparing her for big city life. “He’s promised to equip us for the things He asks us to do. Maybe He knows you need to get used to all those swear words.” She nodded and laughed. “Then I should be good to go for a while.”

I don’t have any idea how to end this story. Maybe the moral is as mentioned earlier: Living a life filled with anger is futile. Perhaps we should all leave our sharp words and shovels at home. Maybe we could even tip folks extra good to help make up for some of the ignorance going around. Or maybe we could just take a step back and hope to God that crazy is not contagious.

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