It’s hard to believe its almost the end of April!  Today is April 28th, my mother and father’s wedding anniversary.  My father passed into Eternity in 1979.  Mom has walked with the Lord every day since the day she met King Jesus when she was just 17 years old.  And definitely moreso since my father’s unexpected death nearly 30 years ago.  He traded his earthly home for a mansion in Heaven, trusting Christ at an early age, about seven.

My mother’s name is Frances and she has been such an example in my life.  Her hands are always busy, her heart always open to the Lord’s promptings, her mind sharp and she has the patience of Job.  Her watchword is perserverance in the Lord.  How I thank God for my mother’s unconditional love and prayers for all her children and all those God puts in her path!  By the way, she called last night to say the mallard duck is back inside the fence, so that means she will have to keep praying about the poodles when they go out.

A couple of weeks ago, I read in our Church bulletin a notice for a Women’s Meeting for our denomination at one of the larger Churches in our area.  I am not strong physically so would not have planned to go since the activities are from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.–a long day for me (I have fibromyalgia).  But God laid on my heart to encourage one of the ladies in our Church to go.  She is President of the Women’s Ministries, newly widowed and a godly saint.  She is also elderly and a dear friend of my mother–they used to work together.  The Lord led me to call her and encourage her to go to the meeting.  She seemed surprised and I told her I would be glad to take her and we could be part of the fellowship.  Lunch will be served and there will be various speakers.  She said she would like that very much.  And she invited another sister in Christ to go with us.  So, we will be driving across town in about an hour. 

I woke up early this morning, very early, and prayed and read my Bible.  Next, breakfast and all my meds, then getting myself ready for the meeting.  Bathed and fresh and prepared for the day, I turned on the computer and went to my friend Ingrid Schlueter’s blog, All for Thee.  There is a wonderful excerpt from Frances Ridley Havergal’s MY KING posted on The Readiness of the King’s Servants.  What a great encouragement the article was to me and I hope it will be to you, also.  You can read it here.

I know the Lord will give me strength for the time I am out of the house.  Have a great day!

We live in the Midwest near a capitol city and new construction has been springing up all around us with small bodies of water where birds and wildlife can move about year round.  Some of the sights we have become accustomed to include ducks and geese, Winter and Summer.  When Spring arrives, the ducks become quite domesticated and wander up into the backyards of those living near a creek or pond of water. 

My youngest sister and her husband live in one such area and they also have two large standard poodles living in their house along with Great-grandmother.  Grandma is in charge when they are out working and Grandma is now 84 years old.  She oversees the house and the pets that live there. 

Late this afternoon, I received a phone call from Mom and she was near tears.  She had let the poodles out the back door into a small fenced-in area of the yard and much to her dismay, a mallard duck had landed inside the fence and his mate was outside the fence. They were walking back and forth on opposite sides of the fence.  She immediately realized the duck was in trouble as the dogs were descending the stairway going down from the deck into the fenced part of the yard.  Quick as a flash, she called the dogs and they immediately turned around and ran back upstairs (they are well-trained and obedient pets!) and then she went down to see about the duck.  Well, he kept walking up and down the fence line and appeared to be trapped in the yard.  She didn’t know what to do for the duck, so she called the local police department and they gave her a number which was a recording at a Wildlife Rescue place.  She didn’t want to leave a message so she called me!  I listened to her woefully tell me the story of the duck and his mate and he was probably hurt or he would have flown back over to his mate. 

I told her I would call the Animal Rescue League and ask them what to do.  I didn’t know what to do for the duck, either.  She tearfully said “Never mind, the kids will be home soon and I will ask John to help the duck.  We’ll put it in a dog carrier and take it somewhere for help.”  After a few minutes, I called her back and asked her if she was alright.  And I told her the duck should not be separated from its mate. . .they are monogamous birds, I think.  I’m sure it was about that time when she began praying.

My sister and her husband came home and Mother reported all the activity.  Now the mate was gone and just the male duck was trapped in the yard walking up and down the fence line.  While there are ducks in all the backyards surrounding their house, a duck had never gotten inside the fence before today.  My sister decided to take some crackers out to see if the duck was tame at all.  She approached the duck carefully–some of them are pretty big.  Just as she was getting ready to try to feed him, three other ducks swooped down into the yard quacking loudly and she stepped back and all four of the ducks flew up and out of the fenced yard.  What a relief!  The duck was not injured, probably just a little disoriented to find himself inside the fence and it was a new experience for him, apparently.

Mother called to say all was well and the ducks had moved on.  I think God answered a prayer to get the duck back to his habitat safely.  What do you think?

Following is an account of Frances Ridley Havergal’s intense love for little children during her lifetime:

“In February of 1861, Miss Havergal went to her brother-in-law, Henry Crane, at his and his wife’s earnest wish to teach their little girls.  The arrangement met with her father’s approval, for he knew that she would not then be able to study so strenuously.  She fitted into the family at Oakhampton splendidly, throwing herself heart and soul into her little neices’ studies and games.  In her poem, ‘The Children’s Triumph,’ we can see her attitude of mind towards them.  The sunbeams and the robins had begged her to come out, but all in vain:

But the children came to my window,
   And said, ‘Come out and play!
Come out with us in the sunshine,
   ‘Tis such a glorious day!’
Then never another word I wrote,
   And my desk was put away!
When the children called me what could I do?
The robins might fail, and the sunbeams too,
   But the chldren won the day.

   . . .She exercised a beautiful influence over these two nieces, teaching them not only for this world, but for Eternity.  The eldest, Evelyn, died in April, 1868.  In a letter, written as early as 1855, F.R.H. speaks of her as a child.  ‘My Evelyn is ill; but she is very gentle and patient, indeed I never saw a sick child so utterly without fretfulness.  She is lovely, a perfect sunbeam with golden, wavy hair.’  Thirteen years after, when the letter conveying news of the death of Evelyn arrived she could not grasp it at first.  She writes to her sister, Marie:  ‘The memorial card made me realise it at last.  Last night I sat long with it before me, with such an utter flood of love for that child in my heart.  It rose and rose, and the sense of sorrow and loss with it, and how I last saw her in all her graceful beauty.  Then, at last, came a sudden glimpse, almost a vision of seeing her again, and having such a full, loving welcome from her above!’
   Doubly glad must this loving aunt have felt that it had been her privilege to lead this young neice to the Saviour just three years before.”

SINGERS OF ZION
Pickering and Inglis

I received a wonderful book for my birthday recently, SINGERS OF ZION.  The book was published by Pickering and Inglis a long time ago and recalls the life stories of two noble women distinguished for their service in the cause of Christ.  The women are Fanny Crosby and Frances Ridley Havergal, two of God’s dear hymnwriters. 

Having read extensively the life and works of Frances Ridley Havergal who lived in England in the 1800’s and knowing her intense love for little children, I was somewhat surprised to find that her sweet blind sister in Christ across the sea in America, loved the little children, too.  Although she never married (like Frances) nor had children of her own (again, like Frances) the book says:

“She was a great lover of children.  If she was denied the pleasures of motherhood, she found much joy in the company and the service of young people.  She was an apt story-teller, and was able to allow the moral to adorn the tale.  She carried in her bag a wordless book, and from its pages, coloured black, red, white and gold, she taught her young hearers the blackness of sin, of redemtion through the cleansing Blood, of righteousness through faith, and of a Home in Glory.  A poem written in response to the question:  ‘Do you love children?’ reveals her thoughts:

‘Love the children!  I can never
Never pass them in the street,
But my every pulse awaking,
Thrills with love to all I meet.
I have heard the children singing,
When my heart was lone and sad;
I have heard them in the distance,
And their music makes me glad.’”

What wonderful examples God has given us in the saints of old who not only believed what God says but lived their beliefs in genuine obedience to His commands. . .I wonder how many of us are willing to do the same today?

The sun was shining brightly today and although it was windy, Spring is in the air!  The first thing I saw this morning were two bluebirds sitting on a pie pan nailed on a post where I feed the birds.  Two of them!

A few years ago, we did a bluebird rescue.  I asked a man in my church to build me some bluebird houses by design.  I found a pattern in a magazine and this man is retired and he likes to make things.  So he presented me with four or five wonderful bluebird houses.  The directions say to place them at least 200 feet apart and about 30-36 inches above ground level.  We put them all around our property (3 acres high on a hill) and we’ve had bluebirds every year since then.  They are beautiful little birds and it is rare to see them these days.  I also have a northern flicker who comes regularly to the feeder at the corner of the deck which is a treat because they are such shy birds.  They usually stay out in the yard.  It took this one a while to figure out how to access the food in the feeding tray, but I did get his picture.  He’s such a gentle bird, quite shy.  I have seen his mate, also.  They like the cracked corn.

I found a lovely fern at the grocery store the other day just like the ones I usually hang on the front patio, but I selected this one for my prayer partner Karen for part of her birthday present.  She loves flowers of all kinds and feeds the birds, too.  We have shared birthdays in April for many years, since high school.  We are not getting older, we are just getting better. . .her theme song is “Maturity before Senility!”

Most of my “gardening” consists of low-maintenance hanging flowers along with my favorite hummingbird feeders, Perky Pet Best Yet feeders.  I’ve used these for years and had so much enjoyment from watching these exquisite little creatures who return each year to our deck out back and patio out front of the house.  I have a number of glass hummingbirds in the house and everyone knows taking care of them is one of my favorite things to do.  We put in a new patio out front last year, so I am looking forward to creating a hummingbird garden for them on the new slab which is a little larger than the one we had.  The little birds love the spray from a garden hose, and I will plan to spend time making showers for them as well as keeping the birdbath filled up with fresh water every day that I can. 

I can see the old birdnests in different parts of the yard now before the trees begin to bud out.  I spotted the orioles’ nest in one tree (it’s high up and hangs like a sling) but it is hard to find the hummer’s nests.  They are well hidden in trees like the fir trees which are never really bare.

Although Kathy and Noah have moved into their own place now, Miss Kitty stayed here with Grandpa and I and she is dying to get outside now that it is getting warmer.  Miss Kitty gets out occasionally by accident and she is very intrigued by birds and anything that moves in the yard.  I don’t let her out on purpose as I’m afraid other critters will get her–we have a lot of different wild animals that come up here from the river valley below us.  But she is happy if she can sit by the screen on the french doors to the deck and hear all the outside noises the birds and smaller animals make.   She also likes bugs of any kind and watches the many squirrels playing in the big oak trees out back every day. 

I am thankful for a quiet and restful place to live where I can find solace and rest in the things God has provided for His people in the Creation.

Our youngest grandson and his mother have been staying with us since last Summer.   One day, we visited Great-grandmother and she brought out a present for Noah Fredrick.  It was a Curious George bathrobe.  Of course, Noah had never seen a bathrobe, let alone worn one, so he was skeptical but Great-grandma assured him he would really like it–especially on the nights when he takes his bath which would be every other night during the Winter season.  The first night he was to take his bath, we reminded Noah that he could try out his new robe.  He wasn’t sure about it, but we told him it was really warm and soft and he could wear it while Mom dried his hair and gathered up his pajamas, etc. to get him ready for bed.

When he came out of the bathroom, he looked like the littlest angel.  The garment was blue and white like clouds with George the monkey printed in various places all over it.  We rolled the sleeves up one turn and tied the inside tie and also the belt around his little waist and it came almost to the tops of his little feet.  He put his hands in the pockets and walked out into the living room assessing the situation.  I told him he looked really handsome in it and the angels in heaven wear robes, too and asked him how he liked it.”I think you better get the camera, Nana,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.  “I really like this baffrobe!”  He strutted all around the living room floor obviously enjoying the soft material against his little bare legs and feet.  His Mom added to the conversation by telling him he was “cute” in that bathrobe.  I corrected her.  “No, Mommy, it’s a baffrobe, if you don’t already know it.”  She smiled really big.  Then she promised he could hang it right beside her bathrobe on the hook downstairs and that did it.  The baffrobe became part of his bath routine every other night.  He dutifully goes and gets it and insists on wearing it after his bath for about 20 minutes before he puts on his pajamas.  I did manage to get it into the laundry the other day when he was at daycare.

Great-grandma got a phone call from Noah Fredrick telling her all about the baffrobe and there were smiles all around.  Nice going, Great-grandmother.  You made a little fellow very happy.  George is one of his favorite friends.  I must admit I’ve never seen a cuter baffrobe or a cuter little boy than the one who wears this one!

Remember the Hummingbird Cake Recipe I posted recently?  Well, this morning I woke up early and decided to make one for my friend Rosie who had a major surgery recently.  Rose is in her eighties and part of my Church family and I have been praying for her.  I went to see her in the hospital but she was sleeping, so I left some small gifts and prayed for her and waited until she was well enough to come home.  Then I called to say I had made a stock pot full of homemade chicken soup and asked her husband when I could deliver it for them.  Fred said he would be there and I could bring it over. 

This morning, I baked the cake but I had to adjust the recipe a little.  There were two bananas left and I planned to use them but when I gathered together the ingredients, one was split open and they were too ripe for my taste.  I checked the cupboard and found a can of manderin oranges and had about a half cup of pineapple juice and a few chunks of premium pineapple in a container in the fridge.  Next, I found a bag of newly purchased flaked cocoanut (I was planning to make zucchini bread but didn’t get around to it!) and I already had fresh pecans in a glass container on the counter.  So I improvised and came up with another version of the Hummingbird cake for the bundt cake pan. 

My grandson Noah Fredrick was watching the whole production while eating his breakfast before his mother whisked him off to day-care.  His Papa was watching, too and told him Nana was going to have to supervise the cake recipe.  Noah looked surprised.  It was a new word to him.  I smiled to myself.  Papa meant improvise but he said supervise.  Noah’s eyes got really big and he said to Papa, “Supervise, Papa?  Supervise?”  He doesn’t miss a trick–perfect pronounciation.  His mother came into the room and scooped him up and said, “No, honey, he means improvise.”  She then began telling him what improvise meant.  After a couple of sentences, I said, “Now tell him what that really means. . .”  She laughed and said, “Nana’s doing the best she can!”  They hurried out the door to face the day.  I finished up the fixings for the cake and prayed it would turn out well for Rosie! 

Exactly 70 minutes later, I took the cake out of the oven.  It was well over an inch higher than the pan but didn’t run over.  I was pleased.  But I knew right away I cooked it just a tad too long.  Well, it was my first try at a hummingbird cake.  I think they call it that because it has a lot of fruit in it.  I took a picture of it and sprinkled a little powdered sugar over it.  Rose invited me to stop by about 11:00 a.m. and she still had some soup left.  My husband loaded a huge sack of frozen catfish and bass he’d brought back from his recent trip to Arkansas for our friends–they love fish and eat it regularly. 

When I arrived at their townhouse, Fred came out and carried in the fish for me and I had the cake tightly packed in an airtight container to hold the moisture in.  We had a cup of soup together and then a piece of the freshly baked cake.  It was still warm.  I must say it was delicious–the consistency is a little like carrot cake with the cinnamon in it, but except for the slight overbake, it was really good, espescially the cup of crushed pecans I had put in it.  Rosie cut a large piece for me to take back home for my husband and gave me a container of the soup as well for his supper.  I love Rosie and her family and want her to be well. 

Little Noah had a piece of the cake and liked it and Papa thought it was pretty good, too.  I’ll try to do better on the next one. . .this was my practice run.

A trip to the mailbox today found my Banner of Truth magazine among the treasures I retrieved there.  Although I receive a number of good things to read regularly from different places, I do enjoy this very fine periodical given as a gift by my good friend, Mrs. Pamela Bugden.  I look forward to every issue and the fine articles written there.

The April issue contains a piece written by Horatius Bonar–one of my favorite writers from the Old Paths–entitled THE CHILL OF LOVE which was originally published in Light and Truth:  or Bible Thoughts and Themes.  The Gospels (London:  James Nisbet & Co., 1872), pp. 100-2.

Because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold.  Matt. 24:12

I have been thinking of late about the love of God that is shed abroad in our hearts in the life of a true Christian and how the Lord increases that more and more and causes us to ponder it.  As the Lord is working that truth in my own life day by day, I also see the lack of love* in so many including those who are professing Christians.  But for the grace of God, I would be just as the others. . .Jesus changed my life in 1974 and He’s still working in me.

The article talks about the condition of mankind in the last days but says that the tendency toward lack of love is in every age, every church, every saint.  I tend to think Bonar had great insight into this truth so long ago.  He writes:

“Moreover, the special thing of which our Lord predicts the decrease is love–love to God, love to Himself, love to one another.  The  atmosphere of sin is poisonous to everything sacred; but the thing which it first especially acts upon is love.  It chokes this immediately.  Hence the first thing noticed by our Lord in regard to Ephesus was her leaving her first love.  Love is the tenderest of all the plants of heaven, and the most easily affected by the deleterious or cold atmosphere of earth.  The first step backward and downward is failure in love.  A chill comes over us.  Something intervenes between us and Christ, between us and our fellow-saints.  We begin to grow cold, and then we freeze.  This is specially to be the case in the last days, but the tendancy is the same throughout the whole dispensation–increasing sin, decreasing love.  The Greek word for iniquity is ‘lawlessness’; regardlessness of that law of which love is the fulfilling; assimilation to the great Antichrist, who is specially the ‘lawless one’; and as the characteristic of this lawless one is hatred of Christ and of his church, so is every step in ‘iniquity’ an advance to this great image of sin, this model of hell, Satan’s truest representative. 
   The evil predicted by our Lord is threefold.  It is love:  (1) frozen out of the world by abounding iniquity; (2) frozen out of the church; (3) frozen out of the saint.
   A world without love, a church without love, a saint without love!  It is not of a few, but of the multitude, ‘the most’, that this is affirmed.  Coldheartedness will be all but universal; and even those who do love love but little.  Theirs will be a cold love–halfhearted love given to Christ; less than half a heart given to the saints.
   Let us watch against sin–all sin; tremble at its increase.  Cherish the flame of love; for, “If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ let him be Anathema Maranatha.’”

Not only have I realized the reality of these words, but I have of late experienced it by being the recipient of the prophesyed “chill” of some I have truly loved greatly with the love of Jesus Christ who first loved me and shed His great love abroad in my heart from the day He made me His own.  I pray first for myself, that I may not fall into this error and then pray and weep for those who have been so ensnared by this coldness wthout so much as a thought that they are living a life without love for the Lord or His people.  May God help us in these last days.

*Emphasis mine

One of my favorite catalogs is from Reformation Heritage Books in Grand Rapids, Michigan here in the USA.  There is much food for thought and meat for the soul offered by this very fine ministry.  The last issue listed a new title which reflects the commitment to excellence practiced by this bookhouse.

RHB is formulating a series called Profiles in Reformed Spirituality.  Michael A.G. Haykin has already produced three fine books in the series and now adds his latest work done in collaboration with my friend Darrin R. Brooker.  Darrin is the editor and publisher of The Life and Works of Horatius Bonar CD; he and his wife Melissa are members of Trinity Baptist Church in Burlington, Ontario.  Michael A.G. Haykin is Professor of Church History and Biblical Spirituality at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky and Research Professor of the Irish Baptist College and Constituent College of Queen’s University in Belfast, N. Ireland.

The new book is entitled Christ Is All: The Piety of Horatius Bonar.  It highlights the life and work of Scottish minister and poet, Horatius Bonar (1808-1889).  Dr. Haykin and Darrin Brooker present 65 excerpts from Bonar’s writings “that capture [Bonar’s] ardent devotion to the glory of Christ.”  God used greatly the preaching of the gospel of Jesus Christ by Bonar in the saving of many souls.  Bonar’s creed which he lived by was exemplary:  “Be at your Bible; be earnest in prayer; be holy and zealous for God; preach the truth; live for eternity; shun worldliness; care to be remembered only by what you have done for Christ in this world.”  What a rich legacy this man of God left for workers in the harvest today!

I especially liked the format of the book and the size of it.  It is a size smaller than the 6 x 9 normal paperbacks which makes it easy to grasp and gives a special warmth to hold in the hand.  Although 226 pages in length, the presentation is beautiful and pristine, sprinkled with fine illustrations, meaningful symbols (so well used by Darrin) and impeccable footnotes. This book is full of elegance!  I also liked the simplicity of the chapter titles–succinct and to the point–but thoughtful and inviting to every reader.

Darrin Brooker says “the richness of Bonar’s life and writings go far beyond the hymns he is most remembered for. . .” and he is right, but consider this one given in the book:

The substitute

I lay my sins on Jesus,
   The spotless Lamb of God;
He bears them all and frees us
   From the accursed load.
I bring my guilt to Jesus,
   To wash my crimson stains
While in His blood most precious,
   Till not a stain remains.

I lay my wants on Jesus;
   All fulness dwells in Him
He heals all my diseases,
   He doth my soul redeem.
I lay my griefs on Jesus,
   My burdens and my cares;
He from them all releases,
   He all my sorrows shares.

I rest my soul on Jesus,
   This weary soul of mine;
His right hand me embraces,
   I on His breast recline.
I love the name of Jesus,
   Immanuel, Christ, the Lord
Like fragrance on the breezes,
   His name abroad is poured.

I long to be like Jesus,
   Meek, loving, lowly, mild,
I long to be like Jesus,
   The Father’s holy child.
I long to be with Jesus
   Amid the heavenly throng,
To sing with saints His praises,
To learn the angel’s song.

From Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series, 102-103.

I highly recommend this book.  You can purchase it here.  Thanks, Darrin, for your labor of love on this very fine project–you were chosen for such a time as this!

*Tolle Lege means “Pick Up and Read”.

I received the following email from a friend earlier this evening:

Tonight shortly would be the time representing Jesus going into the garden.  It is the darkest time ever in the history of mankind or any other time for that matter.  His friends couldn’t stay awake for Him.
Were they even trying?  How alone Jesus our Savior must have felt if it weren’t for the Father.  What agony in the cup.  Then to go onto what we call Good Friday.

The pain and agony of His flesh being ripped off His body piece by piece as He was scourged and tortured.  Being punched, slapped, stripped, crowned with thorns, spit upon, and insulted.  Then crucified and no crime was committed.  An Innocent man.  Because of my sin and yours.  The very thought makes me cry in sorrow.

I then think on, of Him being gone from the tomb.  The very thought again makes me cry with joy!  Is it any wonder I love Him so?  Be blessed and have a wonderful resurrection Sunday!

(This from a younger sister in Christ whom I love and pray for. . .)

To make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery which from the beginning of the world hath been hid in God, who created all things by Jesus Christ; to the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God; according to the eternal purpose* which he purposed in Christ Jesus, our Lord–Ephesians 3:9-11.

According to His own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began–2 Timothy 1:9.

                                                 Horatius Bonar

I was reading a wonderful tract last night at bedtime by Horatius Bonar.  It is entitled God’s Purpose of Grace.  With all the hoopla about the Purpose-Driven Church and the Purpose-Driven movement which is really about Church Growth, not the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I wondered if anyone thinks about the word purpose from God’s perspective.

We are such self-centered people (most of us!) that we forget to ask the question:  What was God’s purpose in creating us anyway?  Seems to me, the above two verses from the Holy Bible would be a good place to start to learn the answer to this and every other question we might have in these last days.  Continuing on:

. . .there are “riches of grace” in God, which “eye hath not seen nor ear heard”; riches of grace which, for their full development, are reserved for the ages yet to come (Eph. 2:7).  We are told of the “grace that is to be brought us at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:13).  Eternity alone will unfold these unsearchable riches, and disclose all their unfathomable depths.  What openings up are yet to be made of God’s marvelous grace!  What a reserve of rich discovery is in store for the ransomed multitude, when out of the bosom of eternity new treasures of grace shall unroll themselves, as if all that is past had been as nothing when compared with what is still to come!

. . .True, many refuse, but this does not alter the invitation or diminish the grace.  Nay, all would refuse; not one would listen, or believe, or turn, were it not for the forth-putting of that mighty power of the Father, by which he wrought in Christ Jesus, when he raised him from the dead (Eph. 1:19).  It is the resurrection-power of God alone that can raise the dead in sin.  And it is this that brings out the hidden depths of the love of God.  It is this that shows us yet deeper riches of grace than could have been conceived.  For it brings to light that deep purpose of eternal love which resolved to bear with all rejection and refusal; which resolved to put forth an overcoming power, and take possession of the very hearts that had resisted and scorned his love.  The riches of grace seen in the glad tidings of great joy are unutterable; but the riches of grace brought out in subduing the very souls that had for years rejected these, are deeper–vaster still.  And every soul that has been drawn by the Father owns and feels the amazing grace that sent from above, and took him, and drew him out of many waters.  He owns the deep love that  at first sent the message of peace; but he also owns the deeper love that made that message effectual–that won his heart–that subdued his whole man–that wrought love in him in whom there had been nothing but enmity before. . .

Oh, surely the God in whom there are such “riches of grace” is just the very God for a sinner to go to.  The grace thus manifested is just the very thing that he needs; and the knowing this grace must be enough to dispel his fears.  To know this free love, to go with assured confidence to that God in whom it is, as soon as we have heard that it is there, and to sit down among his children simply as those who have believed his love–this, this is blessedness–this, this is the foretaste of being forever with the Lord.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blest us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ, according as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love; having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ, to himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the Beloved (Eph. 1:25).

*Emphasis mine

The Saint Must Walk Alone 
by A. W. Tozer

Most of the world’s great souls have been lonely. Loneliness seems to be one price the saint must pay for his saintliness.

In the morning of the world (or should we say, in that strange darkness that came soon after the dawn of man’s creation), that pious soul, Enoch, walked with God and was not, for God took him; and while it is not stated in so many words, a fair inference is that Enoch walked a path quite apart from his contemporaries.

Another lonely man was Noah who, of all the antediluvians, found grace in the sight of God; and every shred of evidence points to the aloneness of his life even while surrounded by his people.

Again, Abraham had Sarah and Lot, as well as many servants and herdsmen, but who can read his story and the apostolic comment upon it without sensing instantly that he was a man “whose soul was alike a star and dwelt apart”? As far as we know not one word did God ever speak to him in the company of men. Face down he communed with his God, and the innate dignity of the man forbade that he assume this posture in the presence of others. How sweet and solemn was the scene that night of the sacrifice when he saw the lamps of fire moving between the pieces of offering. There, alone with a horror of great darkness upon him, he heard the voice of God and knew that he was a man marked for divine favor.

Moses also was a man apart. While yet attached to the court of Pharaoh he took long walks alone, and during one of these walks while far removed from the crowds he saw an Egyptian and a Hebrew fighting and came to the rescue of his countryman. After the resultant break with Egypt he dwelt in almost complete seclusion in the desert. There, while he watched his sheep alone, the wonder of the burning bush appeared to him, and later on the peak of Sinai he crouched alone to gaze in fascinated awe at the Presence, partly hidden, partly disclosed, within the cloud and fire. 
 
The prophets of pre-Christian times differed widely from each other, but one mark they bore in common was their enforced loneliness. They loved their people and gloried in the religion of the fathers, but their loyalty to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and their zeal for the welfare of the nation of Israel drove them away from the crowd and into long periods of heaviness. “I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother’s children,” cried one and unwittingly spoke for all the rest.

Most revealing of all is the sight of that One of whom Moses and all the prophets did write, treading His lonely way to the cross. His deep loneliness was unrelieved by the presence of the multitudes.

He died alone in the darkness hidden from the sight of mortal man and no one saw Him when He arose triumphant and walked out of the tomb, though many saw Him afterward and bore witness to what they saw. There are some things too sacred for any eye but God’s to look upon. The curiosity, the clamor, the well-meant but blundering effort to help can only hinder the waiting soul and make unlikely if not impossible the communication of the secret message of God to the worshiping heart.

Sometimes we react by a kind of religious reflex and repeat dutifully the proper words and phrases even though they fail to express our real feelings and lack the authenticity of personal experience. Right now is such a time. A certain conventional loyalty may lead some who hear this unfamiliar truth expressed for the first time to say brightly, “Oh, I am never lonely. Christ said, `I will never leave you nor forsake you,’ and `Lo, I am with you alway.’ How can I be lonely when Jesus is with me?”

Now I do not want to reflect on the sincerity of any Christian soul, but this stock testimony is too neat to be real. It is obviously what the speaker thinks should be true rather than what he has proved to be true by the test of experience. This cheerful denial of loneliness proves only that the speaker has never walked with God without the support and encouragement afforded him by society. The sense of companionship which he mistakenly attributes to the presence of Christ may and probably does arise from the presence of friendly people. Always remember: you cannot carry a cross in company. Though a man were surrounded by a vast crowd, his cross is his alone and his carrying of it marks him as a man apart. Society has turned against him; otherwise he would have no cross. No one is a friend to the man with a cross. “They all forsook Him, and fled.”

The pain of loneliness arises from the constitution of our nature. God made us for each other. The desire for human companionship is completely natural and right. The loneliness of the Christian results from his walk with God in an ungodly world, a walk that must often take him away from the fellowship of good Christians as well as from that of the unregenerate world. His God-given instincts cry out for companionship with others of his kind, others who can understand his longings, his aspirations, his absorption in the love of Christ; and because within his circle of friends there are so few who share inner experiences, he is forced to walk alone. The unsatisfied longings of the prophets for human understanding caused them to cry out in their complaint, and even our Lord Himself suffered in the same way.

The man who has passed on into the divine Presence in actual inner experience will not find many who understand him. A certain amount of social fellowship will of course be his as he mingles with religious persons in the regular activities of the church, but true spiritual fellowship will be hard to find. But he should not expect things to be otherwise. After all he is a stranger and a pilgrim, and the journey he takes is not on his feet but in his heart. He walks with God in the garden of his own soul - and who but God can walk there with him? He is of another spirit from the multitudes that tread the courts of the Lord’s house. He has seen that of which they have only heard, and he walks among them somewhat as Zacharias walked after his return from the altar when the people whispered, “He has seen a vision.” 
 
The truly spiritual man is indeed something of an oddity. He lives not for himself but to promote the interests of Another. He seeks to persuade people to give all to his Lord and asks no portion or share for himself. He delights not to be honored but to see his Savior glorified in the eyes of men. His joy is to see his Lord promoted and himself neglected. He finds few who care to talk about that which is the supreme object of his interest, so he is often silent and preoccupied in the midst of noisy religious shoptalk. For this he earns the reputation of being dull and overserious, so he is avoided and the gulf between him and society widens. He searches for friends upon whose garments he can detect the smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of the ivory palaces, and finding few or none, he, like Mary of old, keeps these things in his heart.

It is this very loneliness that throws him back upon God. “When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.” His inability to find human companionship drives him to seek in God what he can find nowhere else. He learns in inner solitude what he could not have learned in the crowd - that Christ is All in All, that He is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption, that in Him we have and possess life’s summum bonum. 
 
Two things remain to be said. One, that the lonely man of whom we speak is not a haughty man, nor is he the holier-than-thou, austere saint so bitterly satirized in popular literature. He is likely to feel that he is the least of all men and is sure to blame himself for his very loneliness. He wants to share his feelings with others and to open his heart to some like-minded soul who will understand him, but the spiritual climate around him does not encourage it, so he remains silent and tells his griefs to God alone.

The second thing is that the lonely saint is not the withdrawn man who hardens himself against human suffering and spends his days contemplating the heavens. Just the opposite is true. His loneliness makes him sympathetic to the approach of the brokenhearted and the fallen and the sin-bruised. Because he is detached from the world, he is all the more able to help it. Meister Eckhart taught his followers that if they should find themselves in prayer and happen to remember that a poor widow needed food, they should break off the prayer instantly and go care for the widow. “God will not suffer you to lose anything by it,” he told them. “You can take up again in prayer where you left off and the Lord will make it up to you.” This is typical of the great mystics and masters of the interior life from Paul to the present day. 
 
The weakness of so many modern Christians is that they feel too much at home in the world. In their effort to achieve restful “adjustment” to unregenerate society they have lost their pilgrim character and become an essential part of the very moral order against which they are sent to protest. The world recognizes them and accepts them for what they are. And this is the saddest thing that can be said about them. They are not lonely, but neither are they saints.

We are less than a month away from putting the hummingbird feeders back up again (really!) after this very long and hard winter.  So here’s a treat for you while you wait for our little friends to return:

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Hummingbird-Cake-I/Detail.aspx

(After going through all these recipes carefully, I noticed most everyone said to cut the oil down to 3/4 of a cup.  Might be worth a try!)

Ingrid Schlueter’s post on loving the Church family is very important.  It makes one think about whether we are really in fellowship with the body of Christ.

I attend a small conservative Baptist fellowship where God has planted me and it is a privilege to interact with the folks that worship there.  Miss Lillian was the adult Sunday School teacher for many years there and I love and respect her so very much.  Recently, I called and asked her to lunch at a special Old Country Store eatery that I thought she would enjoy.  She picked the day and time and I drove to pick her up and made sure she was warm and safe on a wintery day.  We arrived at the restaurant early and ordered a cup of soup and a half sandwich with a pickle and original potato chips.  We drank iced tea and shared a cookie for dessert.  I had her back home in a short time.  Miss Lillian is 80 now but you wouldn’t know it.  I treat her like I would my mother.  She is a great friend and having never married, has no children of her own.  She has been a constant example to me of a godly Christian woman who lives her faith every day.

Rose is a Japanese woman in our Church.  She is married to Fred and they travel all over the world in their retirement.  Rose is 84 years old.  Rosie is a good cook and loves any kind of fish, so my husband and I share the fish he catches on a regular basis with her.  She has often cooked a nice lunch and invited us to their townhouse for a meal.  Rose called me last week and said she was having some heart tests done and asked for prayer.  I have prayed for Rosie.  She will have open heart surgery next Monday morning and she is a good candidate for the valve replacement she needs along with one by-pass on an artery as she is very fastidious about her diet and she exercises regularly at the Senior Citizens’ Center near her home.  I have visited the Center with her on several occasions and enjoyed her activities there with her.  We are good friends.  One day when Fred was working his part-time job, I called her and asked her if she would like to go to Costco with me.  We went together and she shopped and bought a few special items.  We always  enjoy each other’s company and love and respect each other.

Gina is a younger mother in our fellowship.  She has two boys who attend Church with her.  We got acquainted and I have invited her to my home for tacos a number of times.   She homeschools and is a busy young mother who serves most willingly her Church family.  One day, she invited me to lunch at her house.  I was amazed at how much preparation she and the boys did for that special day and realized how much love and thought went into what they prepared for me.  I am grateful for my friend, Gina and her sons.

Gracie is a little girl about three who attends Church with her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother watching over her.  Her mother’s sister (an auntie) often takes her to the nursery during the Church service.  She is learning about God.  I took a little story book for Gracie about all God’s critters that He created and gave it to her mother.  She is a darling little girl.  Another little girl that is a blessing is Laura.  She sits with her family every Sunday in Church just ahead of where my husband and I sit.  Laura loves her daddy and he takes such good care of her.  He always has a tissue if she needs one; he puts his arm around her if she is squirming and whispers in her ear and she obeys him.  She was asked to take the portable microphone to any person who wants to share a prayer request or a praise before the sermon.  She is not yet five years old, but does a good job minding her parents and she is a very loving little girl.  I have given Laura small surprises from time to time:  a child’s bracelet, a hair ribbon or a story book about Jesus.  Laura loves everyone in our fellowship and is a good helper.  She will grow up to be a lovely Christian woman like her older sister, Andrea because she is being trained up in the way a child should go by loving parents and her Church family.  These little girls dress up when they come to Church and they act like little ladies.  They are loving and obedient children who mind their parents.

Kenny is a trustee at our Church and he is a jack-of-all-trades for our Church family.  Kenny is always taking care of repairs at the Church and keeps the parking lot up and makes sure everything is good with the mechanical and building chores at Galilee.  Ken recently survived a very serious surgery for a 6 mm aneurysm in his stomach.  He waited nearly a year and a half for a stent to be especially made for him which came from Australia and went to another state where a specialist in this field did a successful operation on him.  The Lord brought him through it all.  We all prayed for Kenny and his wife and the Lord answered prayer.  When he returned from his surgery, I gave him a missionary book about John G. Paton, the missionary to the New Hibrides whom God used to convert the whole tribe of cannibals in that region.  Last Sunday, Ken came to the pew where we sit and thanked me for the book and said how very much he was learning from reading that book and what a blessing it has been to him during this time of recuperation.  Praise the Lord!

Last year, I was invited to present the women’s program for the Spring Banquet at our Church.  I prayed and prepared lots of good things for that very special day.  On the day of the program, we had 92 ladies signed up for the event, much more than our actual membership.  People brought their relatives, friends and neighbors.  After the program and the wonderful brunch that was served, I took one of the ladies in the kitchen aside and asked her if I could speak to her.  She is a woman who has a willing heart to serve and do jobs that perhaps others wouldn’t volunteer to do.  I thanked her from the bottom of my heart for all she did to make a lovely presentation on the tables of the food that day and her hard work in cooking and cleaning up afterwards with the rest of the kitchen committee.  I told her that what she was doing was a blessing and that I couldn’t have done my part if she hadn’t done her part so very well.  I told her she was important to the Lord Jesus and she had served her Church family very well.  She cried.  I hugged her and told her thank you for helping us to have a very special day for our ladies and their guests.

The lady who took care of the flowers at our Church died some years ago.  We really didn’t have anyone to see that the sanctuary has two bouquets of flowers on the platform each week.  We had a couple of plastic bouquets and some old arrangements that were outdated.  Fay, one of the trustees who does a really beautiful bullletin board in the entryway of our Church asked me if I could help her with the flowers.  I agreed and enlisted Miss Lillian for advice.  We shopped at the craft store and found lots of pretty silk flowers, bushes, for 70% off.  We split the cost of the materials.  After prayer, I went to all the thrift shops in our city and found about 15 pairs of old heavy vases from flower shops.  I paid 25 cents to $1 for these vases.  My husband helped me clorox them and we washed them in the dishwasher to  freshen them up, then took them in boxes to the Church and stored them in a small room off the sanctuary.  I asked four or five ladies to come to the Church one morning and we arranged the silk flowers in the vases and covered them with plastic cleaner bags.  Now Janice, a heart patient who isn’t strong physically, has a whole room full of flowers to choose from in order to keep fresh and seasonally appropriate bouquets on the platform.  What a blessing her efforts have been to the Church–always something very pretty when you look up front!

George is a man who lives near the Church.  He is humble man who keeps the attendance for the Sunday School.  George is elderly and his wife is ill and can’t attend services any longer.  But he is there faithfully every Sunday.  One of the first things about George that I noticed is that he erases the blackboard every week after the class is over.  It is his way of helping.  We send home a plate of whatever treats we have between Church and Sunday School in the Library where we have a social every week with tea and coffee and people take turns bringing cookies, veggies cut up or doughnuts.  George looks forward to his plate of goodies to take home to Jean.  He also takes a plate to his wife when we have a Church dinner.  George wears the same warm suit jacket to service every week and he can’t drive any longer.  But somebody picks him up and he is important in our fellowship.  We pray for George and Jean.

Evelyn was a widow lady who attended Galilee for years.  She lived right in the neighborhood a few houses down from the Church.  She lived alone.  She could walk down the alley to Church but Fay and Kenny adopted her and began picking her up.  I called on Evelyn one day and took her a bouquet of fresh flowers.  She invited me in and we visted and had a soda together.  She told me about her husband Foster who had died many years earlier and she talked about her grandchildren.  Evelyn wore polyester pant suits to Church and she carried a worn black purse.  One day, I was shopping and I found a lavendar quilted bag with bright yellow flowers on it.  I thought of Evelyn and bought it for her.  I could hardly wait to get to Church to give it to her, something to encourage her for Spring.  She loved the purse and always carried it after that.  Evelyn had a heart condition and was ill a lot the last few years of her life.  One of the ladies made a cushion for her to put behind her back and when she sat in Church, she used the pillow.  After she went to be with the Lord last year, somebody gave the pillow to me.  I use it for my fibro when I am not feeling strong.  It makes me think of Evelyn and we miss her.

I think God plants us where he wants us to be in the body of Christ and we have opportunities to be a witness for Jesus Christ every day.  The question is:  Are we willing?  If I am willing to reach out to others, it is because the Lord Jesus has done a work in my heart and the love of God has been shed abroad in my heart!  What about you?

It seems like yesterday that my youngest grandson, Noah Frederick was born.  He slept in a bassinette.  In the early weeks, he loved his baby swing and spent a lot of time napping in it as well.  The nursery furniture was a gift from us.  I also purchased a tall stuffed giraffe for the animal theme of the nursery at Costco on a Christmas close-out sale for pennies on the dollar!  What fun we had decorating the nursery.  Soon he was too big for the crib and we found a youth bed for him at our house and his own crib was converted into a youth bed as well.  But Noah kept growing and it was apparent he wasn’t going to be in the youth bed very long.  (Noah and Mommy have been staying with us since last Summer.)

So his mother decided she would take down the youth bed and buy him a big boy bed, a regular full-sized one.  The nursery set was designed to convert to a regular bed after the nursery stage, but not a twin bed.  The instructions said a regular full-sized bed.  We talked the matter over and decided he would do just fine in a big bed as there would be room for all his critters:  Mrs. Racoon, Sammy the Squirrel, the Mother Lamb and her Baby Lamb, Spot (a dog), Brownie (another dog) and Blackie (a third dog).  Then when we can find them, there is additonally:  Pinkie Lee, a stuffed, pink Fish the skin doctor gave him; an Elephant-Egg named Tiny we found to “match” the stuffed Horton the Elephant with the story book of the same name; and a Cheetah he doesn’t keep in its carrying case any longer.  On any given night, Miss Kitty, his little pet climbs up onto his bed and stays awhile.  Noah and Miss Kitty are great friends.  Kathy shopped for a good innerspring mattress and Grandpa installed all the slats a few inches apart to hold the mattress securely–he isn’t allowed to jump on the bed! 

Noah shopped with his Mom for the sheets–he asked for red and blue.  My daughter did a good job choosing what he needed for the transition and he slept in it all night long the first night alone.  The next night, when he came in from nursery school, he went downstairs first thing to “see his new bed, Nana.”  He was so proud of it.

Tonight, just before bedtime, he came upstairs to give “hugs” and I scooped him up (he’s 2 and-a-half now–I can barely lift him) and he asked me to go downstairs to see his bed.  I agreed and he held on to my hand as we went downstairs.  There was the big boy bed, all neat and tidy.  Animals positioned exactly as he wants them. . .he is partiuclar about his things.  A big warm white cotton-woven blanket folded across the bed on top of the sheets–he doesn’t like covers as he wears pajamas with feet in them and he gets too hot; lots of flat pillows across the top of the bed.  Two white baby blankets just alike, one for his critters and one for him to hold on to.  One small blue square blanket Great-grandmother made for him on the pillow where he lays his head.  A small step stool was positioned near the foot of the bed which he steps up on to get into the bed.  A sturdy guard rail holds him in the bed so he won’t roll off of it.  He has a happy heart as he climbs up “by self, Nana” into the bed and shows me each thing in his possession.  He has his favorite little cars neatly lined near the pillow–two pick-up trucks and “anhydrous ammonia” (a white fertilizer tank just like the big ones on the farm) that go with his truck. He can say anhydrous ammonia perfectly and is always looking for it so he can keep track of it.  Then his mother reminds him to “turn on his night light.”  “Here, Nana. . .see night light!” he says excitedly.  There on the wooden foot of the bed, his mother has mounted his favorite night-time toy that lights up with a steady low beam of light illuminating fish and other things moving around slowly and gently while “crickets and night sounds” play for sleeping.  He smiles and climbs back up on his pillows after covering the Mother Lamb and her Baby.  I am very proud of how he has transitioned to his big boy bed.

With a grateful heart, I tell him he has a good mother to help him have all these things for a big boy to sleep with. . .he nods his little head in agreement.  “Jesus gives Noah a good mother, Nana,” he says.  Then he pops back up and says, “Hugs, Nana, hugs,” as he flings his little arms around my neck.  He presses hard into my chest and head and I hold him tight for a minute.  “I love you, Nana,” he says and doesn’t hurry to let go.  “I love you, too.  I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”  He lays down “by self” and I turn to go back upstairs for the last time, realizing that it will be just about a month before they will move into an apartment for a new beginning in their lives.  I am a praying mother and I trust God for these precious ones, for I know He alone can keep them.  I am thankful I could give them a safe place in our home when they needed one, but they will have a place in my heart forever.  Thank you, God, for all that You have done during this time of uncertainty.  We are all depending on You.