Psalms 40:3 He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.
God gives us a song in our heart to sing to Him on a daily basis. He is good and worthy of praise.
We belong to Him and His people should be praising Him continually.
People are moved and touched by our worship to God and our service to Him and will turn to Him to put their trust in Him, so let us continually praise Him.
Prayer: Lord I do lift my hands in worship and praise. I do want sing a hymn to You everyday to honor You and to constantly sing of all You have done and the goodness of God, because there is no one like You. Amen.
Do you send greeting cards? I do. I guess because I love to get them. I remember mama saying one time that she and daddy nearly got kicked out of the Hallmark store that used to be near Marshalls. They tucked themselves over in the Maxine section and read funny stuff until they were laughing outloud. We could always count on them to find the best humor available. Like a lovely card with a photo of clouds and sunshine on the front. The sentiment said, “I wish you were Jesus.” Knowing my parents I couldn’t imagine such a sappy greeting on my birthday. The inside cleared it up by adding, “Then today would be Christmas.” Yep. Just my speed. David’s mother Nina on the other hand, always bought the sappy stuff and personally underlined the important parts. Which was everything. And even though she lived across the road from us, she would put a stamp on the envelope and send it with her outgoing mail. On my birthday one year she tucked a twenty inside with a note in her distinctive left handed script. “Go get that paint you like so you can freshen up the looks of that end table you’ve been wanting to refinish.” She knew me well and tried to think of unique gifts to make me feel loved. I used that twenty to buy a gallon of Robin’s Egg Blue paint at Lowe’s. Paint costs about twice that much now; so that tells you how long ago it’s been. Now every other piece of furniture in the house is Robin’s Egg Blue. But that’s okay. Designers have been advising for years to pick an inspiration piece and run with it. I’ve decided that’s what happened. But don’t worry. I still have a dab left in case something comes up.
So anyway, I still send greeting cards. While the savvy amongst us send texts or messages online, I’m still using paper and ink. The last time I sent a card to a granddaughter I wondered. Can she read this? It IS in cursive. Will she even get it? Since she lives in an apartment in a large city, does she even check the mail? Good thing I planned ahead. It took about four grocery trips for my beloved to remember to get stamps at the Food Lion. I was kinda proud when I remembered to tell him to pick some up. He felt rather accomplished when he remembered to do so. As I pondered my granddaughter’s circumstances or status as the youngsters say, I felt like a Navaho code talker. Actual ink on paper written in cursive and mailed to an address by way of a stamp seems a little antiquated. At least I knew enough not to put money in there. Because who in their right mind would want to buy a can of paint and color everything in the house Robin’s Egg Blue? Hopefully the espresso mugs she picked out on Amazon will land on her doorstep and make her smile. The only problem is that they will be there a week early. I’m so used to regular mail that I forgot to allow for the efficiency of Amazon. And we wonder why Amazon is taking over the world.
Oh well. At least the greeting inside the box will not be in cursive. I think she will love it.
My
husband and I had been sitting in our living room for an hour and
neither of us had said a word. He was watching a game on TV, though, so
it was understandable. As I looked across the room at him, I thought
about our lives together. We have worked hard in our careers. We are
raising our grandsons together. We have tried to live our lives for the
Lord. And yes…we are getting older.
So, I looked toward him lovingly, as he sat there on the couch
holding the remote, and I said tenderly, “I am proud of you.” He seemed a
little shocked, but after a moment, he looked at me and responded, “I
am tired of you, too.”
(Okay, this was a joke. Hopefully, my husband will forgive me for it.)
Sometimes, we do not hear what we think we hear.
Sometimes, we do not even attempt to hear.
Sometimes, we do not hear at all.
We need to listen.
The words, “They have ears, but cannot hear,” seem to be applicable
and are in the gospels at least seven times. Apparently they needed to
be repeated.
The word ‘hear’ is in the Bible 347 times, so it must also be a word that bears repeating.
Once while teaching a children’s Sunday School class, I told them how
when I was just a young girl, that I had heard God speaking to my heart
that I needed to accept Jesus Christ as my Savior. A child blurted out,
“How did you hear God?”
Good question from a six year old. Hopefully, I muddled through with a good answer.
How do we hear God? Here are some of my favorite ways:
*Through His Word. Isaiah 30:21 says that our ears will
hear a word behind us saying, “This is the way. Walk in it.” God’s Word
is alive – it is not just a book. It is God-breathed – given by the
inspiration of God, according to 2 Timothy 3:16. It still speaks to our
hearts today.
*Through prayer. As we pray, God hears us and we hear God. It is not
how we pray, but it is that we pray. It is our direct link to God. Psalm
66:19 says that God has heard me. He has attended to the voice of my
prayer. To ‘attend to’ means to be present, to listen to, to give
attention to. God attends to us!
*Through nature. When we look up at the sky, over at the trees, or
around to see what God has made, Psalm 46:10 comes alive, and we can
hear God’s Voice speak to our spirit saying, “Be still and know that I
am God.”
*Through others. Our children, family, friends, strangers, teachers,
pastors – are some of those who warn, encourage, bless, guide, and send
us confirmation of what God is speaking to us, as they help us hear God.
*Through our circumstance. The circumstances – that ‘drive us’ crazy –
are also the circumstances that ‘drive us’ to hearing the voice of God.
A circumstance is an event or fact that causes something to happen. Bad
or good – our life changers – our circumstances – are where we hear
God. Proverbs 8:34 says that the man who hears God is blessed, so no
matter our circumstance, we are blessed because we hear God.
*****Whether in the church – or on the couch – of our everyday lives –
God wants communion and communication with us. God hears us – and we
hear Him. We just need to listen.
Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com
“Goodbye, Bathtub and Living Room. America’s homes are shrinking.” I read these words myself days after my husband mentioned cities like Charlotte are building new, more affordable homes by cutting rooms like dining rooms and living rooms.
It is a trend we have seen over time. Formal dining rooms have been unused for decades. There used to be formal sitting parlors (or at least I have read about them in old literature) for entertaining guests.
While this trend may reflect the economy and lack of space, particularly in the ever-growing region where we live, I hope we do not see a reduction in the purpose these rooms have served over the years.
Hospitality. That is the word that comes to mind when I think of these rooms. Unfortunately, over time, we have seen families spend more time outside the home to spend time socializing rather than hosting within the home to cultivate relationships with others.
In the book of Titus in the Bible, Paul writes to his young friend in ministry first to be on guard of false teachers. In contrasting the church leaders with these false teachers, Paul lists what they should not be like as well as how these leaders should behave. What are these evidences of their faith in Christ? First on the list – to be hospitable. Merriam-Webster defines the word as “given to generous and cordial reception of guests.” In Christian terms, it means loving the stranger, entertaining them, particularly fellow Christians, and sharing the gospel as they pass through.
It is interesting to note that this is first on the list of how elders should behave. The list does not begin with what the world may consider success, which usually is a material, worldly measurement. Hospitality is within the grasp of any person, but especially for the Christian called to love others as himself (found in the Great Commandment in Matthew 22:37-39). Sadly, too many visitors to the church or those with whom we regularly come into contact could say this is a characteristic lacking within both the home and church and, sadly, even in church leadership. While Christian leaders may seem well-qualified in certain areas of success and achievement, our lack of hospitality is blinding. Others cannot see our message due to our lack of generosity and “cordial reception.” How often have we witnessed guests who seemingly enjoy a service or even fellowship only to leave because of a lack of hospitality, genuine kindness, and concern for their well-being?
If the shrinking size of homes is any indicator, we have become more obsessed with entertaining ourselves and being consumers in pursuit of autonomy. Independent. Not needing others to bring fulfillment to our daily routine, nor to encourage them on their journey.
Though our house size may be shrinking, I pray we will further open our homes to entertaining strangers who may one day become friends and family.
But how does one show hospitality if we have not seen it modeled, do not have a lot of resources, or it is not part of our innate personality? Ah, I cannot wait to share more with you of the examples I have seen, the benefits I have received, and the amazing, ordinary people who have helped me cultivate this quality in my life.
Ashlie Miller and her husband, a pastor in SouthEnd Charlotte, seek to cultivate hospitality in their home in Concord, NC. You may contact her at ashliemiller.com .
My sister hosted a family gathering at her house last week. The gathering centered around her children, who were home from across the country. There were people from my sister’s extended family and our family at the gathering. We were quite a group and we all had a great time.
My brother-in-law pointed out that there were four generations gathered that day. His dad was there, as were my parents. My sister and her husband were the grandparents. There were three of their seven children at the gathering. Then there were nine grandchildren. Between our family and his family we had quite a crowd gathered together.
I talked with many of the adults that were there, but few conversations reached any depth. I didn’t get to connect with everyone. I reflected on who I connected with and who I missed while driving home. It’s hard to believe that I am related to everyone who came.
I chuckled as I walked my mother to the car. I told her that I was confused about which child belonged to which set of parents. She explained that it was easy to be confused because any time a child cried or whined one of the closest adults took care of the child in need. That adult may or may not have been that child’s parent. Those great-nieces and nephews are going to grow up being close to each other.
I had a delightful conversation with the oldest great-niece. She sat down next to me and we talked about school. She told me about the math she was learning and I quizzed her. She could add and subtract very well. Then I asked her about reading. I don’t know what kinds of books seven-year-olds like to read. She mentioned a few books she liked, and then told me that her lessons were about Dick and Jane. I asked her if Dick and Jane had a dog named Spot, and she said yes and wondered how I knew that. I chuckled and told her that I remembered reading those books when I was in school.
When I told my wife about this conversation with my great-niece she was immediately transported back to her childhood and remembered exactly where she was sitting in her classroom when she read the Dick and Jane books. As my wife shared her memories I remembered where I was sitting in the circle around my teacher as we read about Dick and Jane and especially… “See Spot run. Run, Spot, run.” I can actually remember the picture of the dog running in my book.
It was a great family gathering. I enjoyed hearing how these new parents were coping with the responsibilities of parenthood. One of my nieces brought her two-week-old baby to the family gathering to meet everyone. She and her husband enjoyed the opportunity to be with family, but you could tell they were a little tired from all the demands of a new baby.
I have reflected on my time spent at this family gathering. Not many families are lucky enough to get four generations together at one time. It made me wonder what it will be like to get all our generations together in heaven. One great thing is that everyone will be in good, strong, and healthy bodies. I wonder how long some of the gatherings might last? I mean, time won’t constrain us there, so a gathering could last for days at a time in heaven. Also, everyone will be there. No one will be left out or missed. I imagine the intimacy and closeness will be incomparable. I can almost hear the laughter as we share stories from here and what we will be doing there. Heaven will be one of the greatest family reunions of all time.
I want to encourage you to make the most important decision in your life, to join the family of God. That way you will attend that great family reunion in heaven. God can’t make that decision for you. It’s up to you to ask Him into your life. Once you have asked Him in, you can be assured of a place at the table when we all go to that great family reunion. I want to see you there, share some laughs and hear some of your stories. My mouth is watering for the good food and my spirit longs for the time we can all be together in healthy bodies, healed souls, and glowing spirits. I am just hoping I will know and remember all the family connections!
During these days of late August, I am watching the side garden transition slowly from summer to fall. The black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckias hirta) are the first plants to show their change from one season to the next. Our cluster stands next to our neighbor’s white fence and most of it have lost their rich, yellow, open-faced flowers that reminded me of a wide-eyed youngster full of excitement and wonder. The golden petals of full summer have fallen to the garden floor to rot leaving each stem holding at its top the dim center of summer now transformed to a dark cluster of seeds.
The black-eyed Susan is an easy and pleasing plant for a garden. While there are many varieties, our is the native one of local meadows. Known by several names, we prefer the one used here. But, what an odd name that leads to question: “Who is Susan that the plant is named for?” One internet search tells the legend that the name “originated from an Old English poem written by John Gay (1685-1732) entitled ‘Sweet William’s Farewell To Black-Eyed Susan’. True or not, it is a sweet poem of William telling Susan that her love will keep him safe while he is away fighting in a war.
Legend aside, the late-summer garden needs attention. One task of a gardener has a dreadful name: Dead heading. But the act is not as bad as it sounds since the removal of spent flowers is good for a plant because more energy for growth will be spent on the plant, not the bygone flower. And some folks will say that a plant looks better without what is left of a spent flower. We will not dead head the black-eyed Susans just yet.
One recent evening, Mary Ann and I were watching the birds at the birdbath. She asked me did I see the slight movement of a black-eyed Susan stem? I did, and we watched as a female American goldfinch held onto the stem while eating from the dark cluster of seeds. The tiny body barley had enough weight to cause the stem to bob and weave as she pecked at the seed cluster. Like several female species, this finch did not have the bright colors of a male, but her dark grey and subtle brown had its own beauty, and we enjoyed watching her finding food on what some people would see as a “dead” plant. While she has a proper name, we refer to her species as “Jo Ann” to honor Mary Ann’s deceased mother, an avid admirer of birds. Although we came late to bird watching, Mary Ann and I now realize the joy of birds, and we are fortunate that we have Jo Ann’s copy of Peterson’s Guide– complete with her bird-list of sighted species. But the “Jo Ann” is not alone, and in fact she is joined in feasting on the seed heads of the black-eyed Susan by Carolina chickadees, brown-headed nuthatches, titmice, and others that may feed on the ground hidden by the heavy, dark green leaves of the black-eyed Susans.
However, the days slowly roll towards Labor Day, and all the Susans will soon be void of those lovely, yellow-gold petals. But we will not rush out to dead head them. The fine Canadian writer and poet, Patrick Lane, writes that “The gardener has nothing but time.” Like Lane, all we have is time, and there is no reason to rush the dead heading or anything. In that way we allow the small side garden to be a living space in which Mary Ann and I will enjoy watching the birds feasting, especially the Jo Anns.
I am just back from my bike ride and eager to get rolling with our running and racing opportunities for the late summer and fall. There are two new races and two more with new twists, plus two of our biggest that are back in place.
First is a low key and non-competitive but still very popular event. The Ralph Baker’s Shoes and Chick-Fil-A Prediction Run 5K is more about fun and a chance to win prices, eat well and just plain have a good time. The event is being held at City Park, starting at 8 a.m. on Aug. 26. SRR members are free and anyone else can register for $30, the cost of an annual membership. A prediction run means that all participants predict a time to cover 3.1 miles, all without wearing a watch, carrying a phone or any other timing device. The slowest runner or walker are usually more likely to win with the closest prediction time, largely because they seem to be more consistent.
Next up is one of the new races, The Robert Stephen Gilmore Labor of Love 5K presented by the Javon Hargrave Foundation. The 5K will be held at Knox Middle School at 9 a.m., likely still on the long-time course. All proceeds go to support Stephen’s Purpose. The 3.1-mile race in honor of Robert Stephen Gilmore will raise monies to benefit children who may experience cancer or developmental delays. This race will benefit children and families in need in our community.
On Sept. 9, the action is at the Run for the Word 5K and Fun Run hosted by Trinity Lutheran Church in Landis. The course is likely the flattest in the county and the town of Landis supports course safety throughout the event. All proceeds go to the South Rowan Bible Teachers Association for the costs of Bible teachers at Carson and South Rowan high schools, Corriher-Lipe and China Grove middle schools with the possible addition soon of Southeast Middle School.
Spencer’s Race to the River 5K and Fun Run will leave the fire department at 2 p.m. and race north straight to the Wil-Cox Bridge and Yadkin River. The very hilly first mile from last year has been changed to a straight shot down Salisbury Avenue to the river, at least two-thirds of the course on a fast downhill. The town of Spencer will showcase its energetic and growing Parks program. Non-competitive cycling and kayak events are also involved. Awards, three deep this year, and entertainment will be held at the new Yadkin River Park Trailhead. The event benefits Rowan Creek Week and starts at 2 p.m.
GNC is presenting the Dollars for Donuts 5K and Fun Run on Oct. 7 to benefit the Salisbury Police Department Foundation with the intent of providing various means of support to the officers and associated personnel. The Police Department Foundation is not funded by the city of Salisbury. The race will be headquartered at the GNC store, and the course has not been finalized but will be in close proximity to the store. This is another new event.
Back again is the Clean Water 5K and Fun Run at Grace Lutheran Church. Globally, 1.8 billion people, about one out of every four people, drink from contaminated water sources. Unsafe water leads to illnesses that claim the lives of 840,000 people each year, almost half of whom are children under the age of five. What’s more, women and children spend hours each day collecting water. This keeps them from school, work, education and time with family. All proceeds from the race will benefit the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) Global Water Ministry.
The Girls on the Run of the Greater Piedmont 5K follows the next day, Nov. 12, as a celebration event at Salisbury Community Park at 2 p.m. The is the largest fall event, with approximately 800 GOTR graduates and a running buddy for most of them. Community runners can register separately.
And finally, Salisbury’s largest competitive 5K, and a Salisbury holiday tradition, will be held on Thanksgiving morning at 8:30 a.m. at The Forum. All proceeds go to Prevent Child Abuse Rowan.
Look for these events and more at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org and www.runsignup.com.
Ephesians 3:16-18 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,
The greatest thing in this whole world is the love of God. Never ending and far reaching.
All true love has its origin in Him only, because He is love.
May God give us grace to continue to grasp, understand and enjoy this vast love that He has for us and others.
Prayer: Thank You for Your wonderful love. Fill me with that great love that You have Lord that I can be an expression of Your love to other people. I can not do it in my own strength so I look to You for that wonderful love. I bless Your holy name. Amen.
If you live in certain parts of Rowan County, NC you may have recently experienced a power outage. We sure did. It might’ve been two of the longest days of my life. Well, except for that time my husband was coaching the girls’ softball team at the school where we worked. We made it to the championship tournament (yay) but had to travel to Rocky Mount. Though it is only 241 miles from here by car, we were of course in a school activity bus; which turned the three hour tour into a journey of epic porportions. Lord have mercy. Then we were privileged to play multiple back to back games in the sauna that is Eastern North Carolina. Have you ever been there? Situated in the Netherworld between our beautiful Piedmont and the pristine Coastline, this lovely area so closely resembles a swamp that we had to be careful when parking lest the bus sink up to the axles; that wondrous land where mosquitos are the size of hummingbirds. I thought the gravity was less intense but it turned out the aforementioned mosquitos were trying to carry me off. Though we cheered almost obnoxiously for our team to win (too much cowbell), I silently prayed for the joy to end. Please forgive me dear loyal parents and fans. I thought I might die and wished I’d hurry up.
Annyyywayyy…
Our recent power outage brought up memories of a similar time when there was just no escaping the heat. It did help us realize things that are good to have in an emergency. Like battery powered chargers for our electronic gadgets. My tablet died so I ended up reading an actual paper book. It was hard to turn the pages though as I kept swiping along the bottom and nothing happened. We dug out an oil lantern and used it for a while til the wick gave out. Thankfully we had a decent flashlight. David’s grill worked well and also relegated the heat of cooking to the great outdoors. He did not however appreciate the church fan I handed him when he expressed how hot it was in the house. Together we decided that a power outage in the heat of summer is much worse than one in the winter. One can always add more clothes or another blanket if it gets too cold. But in the heat with all the windows open we dared not strip any further lest the neighbors call the cops. Nobody wants to see all that. Eventually the power came back on about 2:30am one morning. Since it had gone off during a dark storm a day or ten earlier, all the lights were on. It was a happy awakening. We shut out the lights, closed the windows (and curtains) and did the dance of joy. The next morning we ran the washer, dryer, and dishwasher. We charged up all the phones and tablets; then downloaded a cache of books so I wouldn’t have to manually turn pages. Currently we are settled into our normal lifestyle of cool.
Back in those happy days of 1999, our girls won the tournament; the bus made it home, and we all lived to tell about it. I may or may not have kissed the ground. Apparently good stories do not come cheap.
Fatherhood can be complicated. Families can be complicated.
But the two sure can become beautiful, especially when they go hand in hand.
My father was a worker at Cannon Mills Plant Number 1 in Kannapolis. The dye department was his home away from home. No matter his personal struggles or personal joys, he always went to work.
The only exception to this was what was referred to as “Vacation Week.” For one week a year, the mill — and the town — closed down completely for vacation.
Many of those weeks, my parents would pack up our car and we would go camping in the Smoky Mountains. The most fun part of the trip would take place in the middle of the night, because that was when the bears would come down the mountain and go through the trash cans at the campground. Personally, I was frightened, as I could see the shadows of bears walking by the tent. I always stayed awake waiting on the bears, so I could protect myself when they tore into the tent where I was huddled in a sleeping bag. One thing I knew was that I did not want to be a bear’s dinner. Looking back, I do not think staying awake to wait on the bears really helped. Those vacations always included my father, who enjoyed “bear watching” as well.
As the years have passed, my list of fathers has grown.
Included on the father list is my husband.
He could be considered a stepfather, a father and a grandfather.
Then there is the father who is the father of my two children.
He not only fathered them, but he now has taken over the role of father to our granddaughter.
My son is also on the father list. He is father to two of the most beautiful baby boys ever born. They are now 35 pounds and 25 pounds of pure joy.
He is also the father of a recently turned 12-year-old son who is our grandson.
He is also pure joy, although I do not know how many pounds of joy he is.
Any reader at this point is most likely thoroughly confused as to who is who and who belongs to who. I got confused just trying to explain my family to you, as I am trying desperately to not leave anyone out.
Refer back to the first sentence: Fatherhood can be complicated. Families can be complicated.
So can love.
So, I will just say it this way: To all the fathers and grandfathers: Whether you are raising 4-year-olds or 40-year-olds, you are amazing men of love and sacrifice. You work hard. You love greatly. You do your best. No one ever said it was easy, but it sure is worth it.
This may explain why tears come into my eyes when my 20-month old grandson reaches up to my son with a fully trusting heart, while lovingly saying, “Dada.”
Dada then reaches down, picks him up, and holds him in his strong arms that bring them both great comfort and great love.
Complicated? I don’t know about that. What could be any sweeter?
Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.
