Busy Berm

by   June 12, 2020 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

            Our house on Lake Norman was built in 1996 and is as modern as the date states. Since it is of the newer era, there is a sixty-foot long berm between it and the house of our neighbor. There is no need to complain about such matters because that is the way things were done, just like all eras of any culture. However, ….

            The landscaper that built and planted the berm must have believed that “more is better.” In the sixty feet are three crepe myrtles, two hollies, five azaleas, two dogwoods, one unknown species of evergreen bush, and one camellia. That is what remains after we had two hollies removed and all plants professionally pruned. We did not commit “crepe murder”, so they have tall, strong limbs that are about to bloom, giving the berm an umbrellaed look, and one large gap where a holly grew gives a view to and from our neighbor. Yet, the berm plants still need thinning so that all its plants can get light and fill out into their natural selves., especially the ageing azaleas that struggle under the canopy of dogwoods, crepe myrtles, and the holly.

             When it was planted, all the trees, shrubs, and plants were small, so the berm was pleasing to look see. The black, landscape matting gave a false promise of no weeds growing in the berm, and the top layer of mulch gave it all an appearance of controlled, natural beauty. Then the plants did what they do, they grew in height and size. They spread their limbs reaching for sunlight. They sent out roots in search for water. They became competitors, and some won more than others, but the fight was so fierce that there was no winner, just sixty feet of exhausted warriors. Because of poor foresight or just not caring, the once fine-looking berm had expanded into a frightful mess. For the sake of the berm, some plants had to be removed, killed.  The berm has been a constant reminder for Mary Ann and me since we moved here nine months ago. As we plant our flower gardens, we are conscious of not planting too much. The temptations of Brawley’s Garden Center are many, but we remind ourselves that everything we plant will require space, water, and attention.  In years hence, we do not want our flower gardens to look like the berm did, but to be a joy to share and see.

            So many modern lives are like our berm—overplanted. We accumulate items in the belief that the wealth of our lives is stated in how much stuff we have. We commit to more and more charities, committees, luncheons, and such as if our worth as a person is tallied in how busy we are. We purchase houses and automobiles beyond our means to stay in the running of the race to financial ruin. The landscaping fabric of our lives, cheap credit and empty promises and beliefs, will not keep out weeds, but eventually be covered by dirt and seeds that will sprout into unwanted growth.

            Like any gift giver, God does not dictate what each of us does with His precious gift of life. Our free will allows us to spend our years on earth as we wish. But the life overfilled with things, commitments of all types, and desires of the world is like an over-planted berm that will  one day be too crowded to bloom as it should and full of unwanted growth.

The Change

by   June 9, 2020 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

January 2020 had arrived. In the year 2000, I had asked my students to predict what 2020 would be like. They overwhelmingly decided that the big story of the year would be flying cars.

I was not seeing that, but the new year did feel special, and I decided to pray for a year of transformation. It was a prayer that seemed to transcend my normal prayers, for it went leaps, bounds, rivers, and mountains past a New Year’s resolution.

It felt like a cry from my heart.

Transform means to change completely.

Transformation is the process we use to get there.

I began to form my strategy for transformation 2020 by making a list:

• This needed to be changed…

• That needed to be changed…

• If only they would change…

Oops…my list had already begun to include changes I felt others should make.

Planning the transformation of someone else in order for me to be transformed?

Probably not the best strategy.

I needed for change to begin in me — not for me to attempt to change others.

My planning was not going well. It reminded me of watching a bee stuck in a spider web, buzzing around, putting forth great effort, but making no progress.

I remembered working as a cashier when I was a teenager. Change had to be given back on most purchases. We were not allowed to say, “Here’s your change,” and hand it to them. Instead, we had to count out the change one coin at a time, as we placed it into their hands.

Quite often, after customers had gathered their bags and walked away, they would turn back and ask, “Did you give me my change?”

I would smile and say, “I sure did.”

As the months of 2020 began to pass, I realized my change had begun.

It was not the change that had been on my list.

It was much better than that.

My change came from Ephesians 4:23, “Be renewed in the spirit of your mind.”

To renew means to give fresh life or strength to — which was what I needed.

The changes were delivered into the spirit of my mind. It was not instantaneous. They came one at a time. They came straight from the hand of God. As they came, I reached out to accept them.

The spirit of my mind — had been renewed by God.

For God who made me can also renew me.

Change had come — and not through my plans or my power.

I had not even needed my list of changes — he had a list prepared for me.

When I began to realize change had come, I could not help but think, “Lord, did you give me my change?”

I somehow think he smiled and said, “I sure did.”

Make Sure You Drink Your Water

by   June 8, 2020 with No Comments

By David Freeze

A real-life hydration issue explained

  There is always something good about living in an area where we can experience all four seasons. I used to joke that each month was my favorite month and that’s not far from the truth. One thing that I remember from past summer months is the morning run that ends with sloshy shoes, a coupling of warmer than average overnight temperatures and high humidity. There is sweating throughout and plenty of it, resulting in wet socks and shoes.

   Just this past Friday, I had the occasion to participate in the Red Hot Mamas’ relay fundraiser in Salisbury. A 7pm run over 6.14 miles just after a rain shower matched high humidity and 84 degree temperature. While the pace wasn’t particularly stressful, the conditions made for heavy and lingering sweating post-run. Sweating occurs to help cool the body’s engine and proper hydration starts the process.

   Back at home, I didn’t think much about hydration and didn’t especially prepare for an early morning run near home on Saturday morning. I did drink water but in retrospect, not nearly enough. What followed was the scariest moment I have had recently on a run.

    Most runners and walkers know their body weight and check it daily. What most don’t do is monitor how hydration affects that weight. On just a few occasions over almost 90,000 running miles have I experienced any real concern about my own health. Saturday morning was one of those, mirroring a similar day about 20 years ago.

    Always a fan of running very early, I pushed out the door about 5:20am still way ahead of sunrise. Speaking of pushing, I do that nearly every day, wanting my body to run as fast as possible usually. I celebrate seconds per mile saved and get excited for an average pace or mile ran faster than usual.

    I started out at a fast clip for a grizzled veteran body, a term that signifies getting older. At a mile, I was OK but at mile 2, I was getting into trouble. No longer could I run quickly, and my form and breathing were both off. With no bounce in my step, I began to slow more and realized that I was dizzy, alarmingly so. I stopped in the road just past mile 3, so addled that I thought I was going to pass out right there. With great effort, I hobbled/walked on to mile 4 and decided to walk home from there. Still dizzy, I couldn’t even walk fast but did make it home successfully. Almost immediately, I weighed and found myself down more than seven pounds.

     I felt bad just generally all over and realized quickly that the culprits were hydration and my own lack of recognition. With a couple of events later that morning, I struggled to get myself together. I started drinking water on the way to a good breakfast with my daughter at Hendrick’s in Salisbury. I still felt sluggish and kept drinking and eating throughout the afternoon.

     It was around noon when I finally had the need to pee, but the color was brown, a huge red flag. Novant registered dietician Michelle Henrickson always tells my beginning runners classes to keep that pee clear for proper hydration, particularly before/after any workout. Figure that the minimum amount to drink daily is half your body weight in ounces. In other words, a 150 pound person needs to drink a minimum of 75 ounces and about 25-30 more for each hour of exercise.

    By Sunday morning, I regained my proper weight. Just ahead of another warm and humid run. I weighed just before and immediately after, dropping 3 new pounds. The process started again.

     Realizing how quickly poor hydration affects the human body is an important, and in this case, a dramatic lesson. The average adult body is at least 55% water. In my case, on Saturday morning, I lost about 6% of my body weight, all in precious water and was in trouble briefly.

      Bottom line, know how improper hydration affects the body. Some that stand out are the shrinking of the brain causing reduced function, poor blood flow, less energy and general overall listlessness. Nothing’s better than water but some other fluids are good too. Keep the color of your urine clear or light yellow, and you’ll be OK. I will too!

     Proper hydration is a factor for those who don’t exercise too. How often have you heard of a person needing the hospital after severe dehydration? Too many times, we are prone to forget this one simple thing that makes life better. Keep that water bottle or glass busy! You will be better for it.  

Heavenly Perspective

by   June 6, 2020 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            CBS has given us a nice summer treat. They are running old movies on Sunday night. My wife and I have really been enjoying seeing these movies from our past. I was particularly looking forward to the one last Sunday night. They were showing “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.” Naturally, there were lots of commercials, but we endured them because we wanted to see Harrison Ford and Sean Connery.

            There was five minutes left in the movie when our local station, WBTV, decided to cut in with breaking news. Naturally, we were concerned. When the reporter appeared she said that the streets of Charlotte were quiet tonight. They cut to another reporter who was at the police station and told us that the situation was much calmer than it had been the night before.

            With five minutes until their news broadcast, WBTV broke in to tell us that the streets were quiet in Charlotte. I am grateful that we had a quiet evening after all the unrest, but they couldn’t wait five minutes to tell us that during their regular newscast?

            Our country is struggling right now because an officer of the law, someone we trust to keep us safe, did the unthinkable. That act should spark outrage among all of us. That behavior cannot be tolerated and should be prosecuted. The world and heaven are watching to see how we handle the situation. I hope justice will prevail in this situation.

            The truth is that there are bad people in every profession. I saw it as a teacher. The majority of my colleagues gave their best every day in the classroom and during all the various afterschool activities. But there were some whose behavior was unacceptable. When the public puts their trust in a group of people’s hands, we cannot misuse that trust. We must live up to a higher standard.

            The same kind of problem is occurring with COVID-19. In some places the truth about the number of cases is concealed to make things look better. Different agencies report different numbers. The situation is complex and confusing and it is difficult to know what to believe.

            The problem comes down to our perspective. No one thinks what the officer did in Minnesota is right. But when it comes down to COVID-19 there are so many different perspectives. Some believe we should close the country down, crushing the economy and many people’s lives. Others want the economy open and say let the virus do its thing. Some firmly believe in masks, others refuse to wear one. Who’s right? It depends on your perspective.

            God has been challenging me to consider my perspectives on many issues this week. I am looking at the world from my point of view. That’s natural, we all do that. But God has been challenging me to take on His heavenly perspective. That’s difficult. My priorities are not His, my ways are not His ways, and my thoughts are not His.

            God hates injustice. God hates verbal, mental, physical, and sexual abuse. God hates when one person thinks they are better than another for any reason. God loves grace, mercy, forgiveness, and peace. God hates sin because it separates us from Him. God loves a humble and broken heart. God hears our plea for mercy even when we don’t deserve it. God’s love covers over a multitude of sins and failures.

            God loves every human being from the moment of conception until their final breath. He always hopes and believes that people have the capacity to repent and come home to Him. God desperately wants a relationship with each person alive, from the vilest sinner to those that think they are saints. He wants every person to be saved from their sin.

            I want to encourage you to pray for our county. Pray for our leaders to have wisdom in knowing how to deal with the civil unrest and COVID-19. Pray that truth will prevail in our criminal justice system and in the news. Pray for peace and that our fractured communities will find ways to heal. Pray that the Gospel will spread like wildfire and that people will discover the faith, hope, and love that they need from their Father in heaven. What we really need right now is for the love of God to wash over us, cleanse us, and to renew our hearts and minds. Peace to you, your household, your city, your state, and this great nation of ours. 

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

Listen for the Voice

by   June 2, 2020 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

Her voice. It stayed with me for years. I would hear it in my dreams — or hear it in my head. It always helped me to not miss her quite as much.

She left for heaven quickly without giving us much time to prepare, but we did have a beautiful moment by her bedside as we sang, “Amazing Grace” and held on to her as tightly as we could.

Losing your mom is hard. She wasn’t with me nearly long enough. So glad I have pictures and memories, my favorite being her sitting in “her chair” reading a Grace Hill novel, Reader’s Digest, or her Bible.

But years later as time has gone by — her voice — slipped out of my mind. I still try to hear it, but it will not come.

I looked up “voice” in my Bible concordance and surprisingly, it was in Psalm 29:3-9 seven times, sandwiched between four of my favorite verses — Psalm 29:1,2,10,11.

I had drawn an arrow pointing from verse 1-2 down to verse 10-11, like the in-between verses were nothing.

Guess I should have learned a lesson from my mother when she used to offer me a “nothing” sandwich every time I could not make up my mind about what kind of sandwich I wanted. You guessed it — I got two slices of bread with nothing in-between.

Those “in-between” verses. I should have known not to skip them all these years.

For those verses are about the voice of the Lord — and they are beautiful.

As I thought about my desire to hear my mother’s voice, my heart began to sense a bit of the magnificence of the voice of our Lord.

The voice is upon the waters. The God of glory thunders. When the waters are deep, we tend to listen to the roar of the waves. But those rushing waves are overpowered by the clap of the God’s thunder as He speaks from above.

The voice of the Lord is powerful and full of majesty. It is a voice of honor, royalty, beauty, and power. Psalm 104:3 says that he makes the clouds his chariot, and walks upon the wings of the wind.

The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon. Thirty feet in circumference and up to 129 feet in height. Only the most powerful voice could split the most powerful cedars — and we can hear that voice.

The voice of the Lord divides the flames of fire. Who could do that? No one. But God’s voice can. The flames listen to the voice and melt the hearts of men.

The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness. A wilderness is neglected, abandoned, uncultivated, or in a position of disfavor. The voice can shake our wilderness.

The voice of the Lord makes the hinds to calve, discovers the forest, and in his temple everyone speaks of his glory. The voice makes the deer give birth, strips forests bare, and everyone says, “Glory!” We will be so overcome by his voice that the word, “Glory!” will spew right out of our mouths.

I can almost hear it, can’t you?

Clap! Crack! Boom! Roar! Snap! Swish! Crackle! Rattle! Glory!

It is like God’s Word is giving us an audible display of his power!

Sounds like the fireworks of the Holy Spirit to me!

Oh, Lord, give us ears to hear it!

Will we know the voice when we hear it? Of course! If I heard my mother’s voice today, even though I have not heard it in 25 years, I know I would recognize it immediately!

Hear the voice — it is all around us.

Contact Ann Farabee at annfarabee@gmail.com

Sneeze of Shame

by   June 1, 2020 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

Too bad the Corona virus hit during allergy season. Most of us don’t know if we have a week to live or if we should just take a Zyrtek. My poor husband was in line waiting to get into the grocery store during “senior hours” the other morning when he had a sneezing fit. He felt obligated to shout loud enough for everyone standing six feet apart to hear that it was just the pollen trying to get out of his head. Who would’ve thought that a sneeze would prompt dirty looks instead of the traditional Southern blessing? So I’ll say it instead. Bless his sweet heart. He’s doing all he knows how to lighten the mood when he has to go out. He’s friendly and makes funny comments about washing his hands so much that he no longer has fingerprints.

“Eventually that’s gonna come in handy since everyone is used to wearing masks, even to the bank.” I’ve begun to notice that his laugh is a little suspect. Silently I wonder if he’s got a plan to stimulate our own personal economy.

Our son-in-law finally found toilet paper at the Family Dollar. He didn’t realize it was lavender scented until his son informed that he didn’t much care for it. The general consensus is that the bathroom should smell like either flowers or poop but definitely not both at once. David found hand soap and bought it even though we don’t care for the floral variety. Like our grandson, there’s just something amiss about honeysuckle combined with certain odors.

I feel sure we’re all making do and learning new things during this funky time. I had my six month cancer check-up online last week. Somehow we opened a portal and the nurse practitioner, who was working from home, got to view my lovely giant head on her screen as she conducted the exam. She had to stop at one point to check on her kids. I was just thankful she opted out of the virtual breast exam. Praise God for small favors. My regular doc, beloved Ms. Adams, had her nurse Kourtney call to check on me too. These women are bound to be exhausted. But what kindness! Nobody has to shout “Bless you!” for me to know I’m blessed.

David’s learning to work from home during all this. He can make calls and set appointments through his laptop… unless the internet dies. For three days he struggled with lost signals, dropped calls, etc. until finally a nice guy in tech support tried to help. Though eventually Raul lost connection and David had to start all over, Rosette stepped in to rescue. Several hours later, access to the World Wide Web was once again at his fingertips. Like me when I figured out how to enter the Medical Portal of Wellness, the man was nearly dancing with joy over his accomplishment. When I asked how he got it hooked back up he shook his head. “I have NO idea.” I think if he could, he’d send Rosette flowers. Perhaps she would enjoy a virtual bouquet.

It used to be considered an act of kindness to rewind our videos from Blockbuster. Currently I think kindness is about realizing that everyone is going through an unusual set of circumstances, then doing what we can to lighten the load. Here’s to those of you going the extra mile. Please accept this virtual bouquet from my heart to yours. May God bless you even when you must sneeze the sneeze of shame.

God’s Got it all in Control

by   May 30, 2020 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

God’s Got it All in Control

            The other night I woke up in the middle of the night. I am a deep sleeper; usually nothing wakes me. But I remember dreaming about a terrible smell. As I rolled over, I noticed the smell was in the bedroom. I sniffed the air and thought – “skunk.”

            I have only smelled a skunk once in all the years I have lived in this house. My sleep addled brain couldn’t process the foul odor. I quietly eased myself from bed so I could investigate. Stepping into the hall the pungent odor had my attention. I walked through the house assessing the situation; the overwhelming smell was everywhere.

            As I was heading back, I thought about the fact that the gas hot water heater is right outside our bedroom door. Could that be gas? My sleepy brain didn’t know. I decided to go outside and see if I could smell the skunk. The air was fresh and clean.

            I walked back in the house and the smell seemed to be stronger. That’s when I thought I would search the internet. Natural gas can smell like rotten eggs or possibly have a skunky smell. That was it. I became convinced that I was smelling gas. I woke my wife and we agreed that something didn’t smell right.

            I decided to call the gas company. The lady who answered was very kind and patient. I explained the situation and she decided that they were going to come and check for us. I felt bad, but she said if it woke me up, it was worth checking out.

            The young man that arrived was professional and polite. He came in and smelled the odor too. He said it smelled more like skunk to him, but he stayed and checked everything for us. He took me outside and opened the gas line so I could smell what natural gas smells like…rotten eggs. Neither of us knows why we got that smell in our house, but thankfully we were okay.

            As I reflect on this crazy event I realize one very important thing…God is in control. No matter what happens in life, we serve a God who has everything under control. I have been thinking about Joseph, who was thrown into a well and then spent several years in a dungeon. I imagine he wondered if God was in control. Then you have to consider Paul, who was imprisoned for preaching the gospel. The governing authorities didn’t see why he should be in prison, but God did some of His greatest work through Paul during that time.

            When Jesus hung on the cross, God was in control. When Daniel was tossed into the lion’s den, God was in control. When Stephen was martyred, it’s hard for me to believe, but God was in control. When Mary gave birth to Jesus in an old cave, God was in control.

            When Egypt enslaved Israel for several generations, God was in control. People suffered and died. Even during tragic times when people suffer and die, God remains in control. By the time you read this, we will have surpassed 100,000 deaths from COVID-19 in America. I can’t imagine the sorrow and suffering that some families have endured during this time. Surely God is weeping with those families.

            No one knows how this pandemic will play out. I have read some staggering numbers from past pandemics and hope and pray that God will intervene. I am hoping that all we have done around the globe has helped to stem this awful plague. There has been so much suffering economically and health-wise, not to mention the grief that so many have experienced.

            What we have to remember is that God is with us no matter what we are facing. He has not forgotten us. He is holding us in His right hand. Sickness is not from God. He loves each one of us and wants to draw us close to Himself. He longs to comfort us and to lift our spirits. God is for us. God is bigger than COVID-19. No matter how crazy the world gets, God is still in control.

            I want to encourage you to lift your cares and concerns before God. He hears your prayers. Run into your Father’s arms where you will find the comfort and love you desperately need. We serve a God who is in control and who will see you through whatever you are facing. There is nothing too difficult for Him. He is our hope and strength during this time of trial. There are still many difficult days ahead, but I believe we will get through. I have faith that God is going to bring good things out of all that we have and will endure.

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

The Balm

by   May 26, 2020 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

Poor little fellow. It was a lot to bear for a three-year-old. Fears and tears filled his eyes, as he yelled, “I got a splinter!” Screaming and thrashing about ensued, followed by, “It hurts!” Getting him to let us look at it was the next challenge. Letting us help with removal was going to be an even more difficult task.

We tried reasoning. You don’t want an infection, do you?

We tried to sneak in from behind. The element of surprise did not work.

We tried to force him. That got tricky.

We tried taking a break. Peaceful — but not helpful.

We tried holding him down. Not a success. Perhaps a slight injury. Not to him — to me.

Nothing would work if he would not receive the help. The splinter remained.

A splinter can be a small thing that breaks off from a larger thing and gets stuck. If it does not come out, it can disintegrate, spread, become fully embedded, and infected. It can alter our actions and movements. It can hurt. It can create problems, for it does not need to be there.

Realizing that our personal efforts were not enough, we reached out to a pharmacist who said the words we needed to hear, “There is a balm that helps.”

It was named ichthammol. The black, sticky, tar-looking stuff flowed out like a gift from God onto the splinter — once our little guy was willing to receive it. We covered it with a bandaid, let it seep in, and begin the work it was going to do. Help had come. He became still, relaxed, soothed, and his fears and tears went away. He trusted in what the balm was doing for him. It was just the medicine he needed. Shortly after, the splinter was easily removed.

In God’s Word, balm was highly valuable. It was a specialty item. It was uncommon. It was fragrant. It eased pain. It produced healing. It had soothing powers. It never stopped working.

Some say balm is a metaphor of the healing power of God — pain can be eased and healing produced.

I say that a serious problem needs a serious medicine.

You would buy it if you or a loved one needed healing, wouldn’t you?

Yes, you would go right over to the pharmacy and pick it up.

Well, it is readily available for each of us. No — not ichthammol, but the healing balm God sends that can take a splinter out of our lives — or a boulder out of our heart.

But, just as a three-year-old reached out to accept the balm that would bring his healing, we have to reach our arms out to God to accept the balm that is for our healing.

Need healing? I think we all do.

Let’s pray:

As we stretch our hands to thee, Lord, we accept the balm that you are pouring over us. May it overtake us — body, mind, and spirit. May we believe — and receive — our physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual healing. Thank you for the balm that covers us and sends healing our way. Amen

Let me know how your healing goes.

Let me know how the balm flows.

Contact me at annfarabee@gmail.com

1 … 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 … 207