Fifty Things

"Can you meet me at the Coffee House in the morning? I have something for you."

She is all sweetness in every way. Everyone loves her, who could help but?

I meet her when morning comes and we talk, and talk, and talk. Has it been years since we had a moment like this? No, but it feels like it. Words are deep and meaningful, quickly they shift to light and fluffy talk. Friend Corrie joins our fun. We laugh, really laugh. We are enjoying the richness of fellowship . . . heart to heart . . . and it deepens the unity in us.

Morning flies while we are absorbed in matters of heart, all too soon, it is time to go.

"This is your birthday gift, for you. I'm sorry it is late it took some time to put together," she hands me beautiful bags filled with treasure.

My heart is already blessed to brim. She is a gift to me, and I am so thankful.

She said that she got the idea from Hallmark.

She cut out hearts and wrote sweet messages on them, 50 things that she loves about me. She placed them in this beautiful punch bowl. Red cellophane wrapping brings the bowl to life and deep inside are hearts with messages scripted, just for me, 50 of them.

I don't know when I have ever been given such a precious gift.

I had a birthday a few weeks ago, I am 50 now, so she thought of 50 things.

A long time ago, I decided that this would be my year of jubilee. I made a choice to celebrate what is behind me, and celebrate what is to come, and be happy about it all.

But I must admit to you, it has been a harder one, this birthday. It really has.

The fifty hearts with script from the heart of a friend that brought soothing balm to the space I am in. Her beautiful words brought humility to my very being and I just had to bow down and say, "Thank You Dear God! Thank YOU!"

There was so much to thank Him for, it was completely overwhelming.

Perhaps we have a crowd of witnesses here, not just in heaven (Hebrews 12). Her thoughts make me believe so.

I want to pass this on,  you know, for someone who might need words from a friend. Words of encouragement, words of life, and inspiration. Powerful, beautiful, loving words. There are beautiful ways to love . . .

Thank you, my dear beautiful friend, and sister in the Lord, Christina! The world is better because of YOU!
Loving, grateful blessings! You have given me exemplary example to follow! Much love to you, Cheri

Pondering Seven Branches/Candlestick

"As the incense table was a type of their aspect towards God, as intercessors, so the seven-branched candlestick was a type of their aspect towards the world, as luminaries . . ." F.B.Meyer (referring to the lampstand in the holy of holies). 


Seven-branched candlestick . . . luminaries . . .


let us be light

illuminating where holy is holy

and where life is like night, barren of celestial planets sharing glory with earth

let us "shine like stars in the universe"

and Matthew 25 . . . sleepy virgins with lamps, five ready for journey

five pretending there is time . . .

let us be like the seven-branched candlestick filled

with fresh oil, pressed, clear for burning, fuel for holy fire that strengthens weary soldiers

luminaries 


seven luminaries (my daily prayer), eight, nine, ten, and every branch following

filled and ready to shine . . . for eternity

Mission

"There are all kinds of mission fields," I said looking into his beautiful blue eyes.It was the first thing that came to mind when he told me that he would be joining the Navy. We sow seed as we walk the path of life. 

I dressed him in his first sailor hat and suit when he was 6 months old. His Noah's ark toy was next to him. "Click, flash," his smile was big for the camera. Did the Lord already know then? 

We homeschooled when he was five. He was learning to read and write and memorize scripture and I loved being his mom and teacher and the love of his life . . . at that time. He loved stories, stories about George Washington were his favorite. I found a gorgeous bronze colored porcelain bust of George at a flea market. I decided to decorate Josiah's bedroom with an Americana theme. George was placed on his dresser.

Piece by piece old paper was taken off the walls, piece by itty-bitty piece. Then we painted. I put a border of  vintage American flags near the ceiling. It was beautiful! It was then that I found a wool navy shirt in a flea market. It was beautiful. I hung it up in his bedroom with other pretty decor that I can't even remember now. I will never forget that uniform! Was it seed? I was oblivious.

I keep pondering. I intentionally sowed seeds of faith into my children's lives. I purposefully sowed love and compassion for the lost, broken, and needy. I meant for them to learn patriotism and tenderness for others from me . . . but I did not intentionally sow seeds that would inspire a desire for serving our country into the heart of my son. 

I am too selfish. I realized this when he pulled out his dog tag, saying, "Mom, I want you to see this."

There was his name, and other pertinent information, then I saw it, what he wanted me to see. Stamped in silver it said, "Christian" across the bottom of the dog tag.  "They put this there so that if anything happens to me . . . " I cut in, "I know." I hug him. He doesn't see my tears. I am proud and honestly, I am scared, so I pray all kinds of prayers, big prayers, whispered prayers, tearful and happy prayers. 

The most important prayer is that his work will be done here as the Lord would will it. That he would have the integrity of Uriah, the tenacity of David, the obedience of Gideon, the courage of Joshua, and the armor of Ephesians 6, because

there are all kinds of mission fields. I want him to hear the Lord say someday, "Well done, sailor, welcome into your rest," after he has lived about 100 earth years.