Among the Storytellers

Dear Friends~

I have just returned from the most amazing conference! It was my fifth year to attend the Proverbs 31 Ministries She Speaks Conference. I must say that this particular event was my very favorite. 

When I received information that registration was open to sign up for this years event I wanted to sign up immediately. I waited and prayed, asked my husband who gave me the go ahead nod, and continued to wonder if I was making the right decision. It would be my fifth time. There would be a waiting list of people who would not get to attend, perhaps there was someone else that needed to attend more than I. 

However everything seemed to be pointing to a go.

I have always gone by myself, a day early, and stay room by myself so that I can soak in prayer. It has been a precious tradition. 

It didn't take long for the Lord to confirm the fact that I was supposed to be at this years conference. His hand of blessing met me everywhere I turned. The memories are fresh and some of them even feel sacred, too precious to share at this time.

I got to meet the most wonderful people. I was on the look expecting to find lifetime friends. New friends. I was certain that the Lord would provide this for me so my heart was in expectation.  I am in awe of His ways! He knows how to pair us up when even when there are 600 women in attendance. Once again, I was treated with the blessing of meeting sisters with kindred spirits, that I believe, will continue to share my eternal journey. Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, thank you!

One of the most special hilights for me was getting the opportunity to hear Jennifer Rothschild speak and meet her. I even got to have my picture taken with her. I won one of her books and she signed it for me! It was a very tender moment. She is a beautiful, beautiful woman! I have just finished leading her study "Me, Myself, and Lies" and think it one of the most powerful studies ever. Hearing her in person and talking to her, only increased my admiration of her. 

At such a conference you have the opportunity to hear many, many stories. Testimonies that bring tremendous glory to the Lord. I wanted to share my very favorite story from the conference, the one that I don't ever want to forget. I began to write it out, but the Lord stopped me. Let me wait on that for a while. 

If you are one of my She Speaks friends that did not get to attend, I missed you. I do not know if I will get the opportunity to attend next year, but I pray so. In the meantime I want to put into practice some of the things that I learned.

I experienced many flight delays both going and returning home. I left Charlotte on Sunday and did not arrive back at home until 2:00 Monday afternoon. Tomorrow, Friday, my husband and I will be leaving on a two week vacation. I have not sorted everything out from my last trip so of course I am not ready.

I don't know if I will have the opportunity to write while I am gone, so I might need to take another little break. However, the Lord has given me so much to write about. So please check back in after August 21st. Being among the storytellers has stirred up some stories in me.

Blessings to all! I shall return soon!

Cheri

Trees and Silos

Trees don't belong in silos! 

I am sure that trees feel sheltered in silos.

Wind, rain, ice, snow, wouldn't be as harsh in the safety of it's walls. The sun would still share its light. Air would still be plentiful. The ground fertile. 

But the tree would not be useful. Protected but not effective.

You could not pick the fruit off of a tree in a silo. Would there be much fruit?

You could not hang a swing on the branch of a tree in a silo. 

You could not climb a tree in a silo, unless you are my son Caleb, then you might find a way. 

Mr. Tree would not even be noticed by the world until his branches got to the top of the silo's edge and beyond. His testimony would be lacking.

Psalm 1 Amplified

Blessed (happy, fortunate, prosperous, and enviable) is the man who walks and lives not in the counsel of the ungodly [following their advice, their plans and purposes], nor stands [submissive and inactive] in the path where sinners walk, nor sits down [to relax and rest] where the scornful [and mockers] gather. 

But his delight and desire are in the law of the Lord, and on His law (the precepts, the instructions, the teachings of God) he habitually meditates (ponders and studies) by day and by night. 

And he shall be like a tree firmly planted [and tended] by the streams of water, ready to bring forth its fruit in its season; its leaf also shall not fade or wither; and everything he does shall prosper [and come to maturity].

But he does not live in a silo.

He is useful.

He lets his light shine.

Matthew 5:14-16 The Message

(Jesus speaking)"Here's another way to put it: you're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, don't you think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you there on a hilltop, on a light stand.....shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven."

A silo is kind of like a big bucket........well, kind of......

And then there is John 15.

Verse 6 really got to me.

(Jesus words)"Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned.

Eventually the tree in the silo can be cut down and hauled out. Building material, or fuel for the fire is all it will be good for. 

But living in a silo, a seemingly safe place is not a productive place for a tree.

Wonder how much, we, the church are like trees is silos. 

The world is a risky place. 

We really don't belong in it.

It isn't comfortable. 

Silos provide shelter, comfort, protection. So do church walls. 

I think it is time to tear down the walls of our silos and be useful branches. Let the world taste and see that the Lord is good by giving them a taste of the fruit of our branches. They need to know that He is good. 

Jesus was a man who was despised and rejected. The Bible says He was a man of many sorrows. He understands grief even more than we do, because He did not seek the shelter of a "silo". He was out there among the lost, ministering to a great host of people, sick people, needy people. 

We could have hung a swing on His branches. We could have made fruit salad from His bounty. We could have climbed higher and higher on His branches until we saw the face of God in the clouds. Jesus was a useful and productive tree while here on the earth. 

John 15 says that we are not much of a tree unless we are grafted into Him. And He, the tree of life,  is not ever going to be in a silo. And neither should we.

I recently read a story and saw pictures of a church service held beneath an underpass. The congregation was made up of mostly homeless people. 

The man that started that church was a tree out of his silo. 

Praise the Lord!

Please don't get me wrong! I LOVE church and I NEED church but there is so much to do beyond the walls OF church.

 

Returning

Hi Friends~ 

I have missed my time with you! I have some things in my heart and stirring in my head that I can hardly wait to write about! My daughter was home from New York City and I have been very preoccupied before, during, and after her visit! I will share more with you about it later. 

I was ready to write about something that has been on my heart since the last time I wrote, and I was all set to do so today, until I read my devotion by Tozer this morning. I decided that I just had to share the richness of his words with you. I know that you will be blessed and encouraged and possibly will want to share them with someone dear to you! 

It is taken from Tozer on the Holy Spirit, a 366-Day Devotional compiled by Marilynne E. Foster.

I pray that you will feel like you have received a fresh drink from the well of your salvation! I did!

Blessings~Cheri

The Holy Spirit is Waiting

My soul followeth hard after thee: thy right hand upholdeth me. Psalm 63:8

I am reminded that one old saint was asked, "Which is the more important: reading God's Word or praying?" To which he replied, "Which is more important to a bird: the right wing or the left?" The writer to the Hebrews was telling his readers.......and telling us.....that Christians must believe all there is to be believed. They are to do all that the Word commands them to do. Those two wings take the Christian up to God!.....

God has purposefully given us a mental capacity with wide human boundaries. Beyond that, if we are justified, regenerated believers, He has given us an entirely new spiritual capacity. God wants us to believe, to think, to meditate, to consider His Word. He has promised that the Holy Spirit is waiting to teach us. He has treasured us concerning all of our blessings in Jesus Christ.  

Oh God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more... I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory. 

Amen!

Laughter

"It is a burnt offering to the Lord; it is a sweet aroma, an offering made by fire to the Lord." (Exodus 29:18 NKJV).

Now what does that verse have to do with laughter? I don't know! I don't see it either!!!! But after I read this verse I had visions of my adult children laughing!!!!! Now I don't know what you think of visions, but I just saw, with my mind's eye, images of each of my children really having a good laugh. It was so beautiful to me!

The first was Caleb. He was laughing and his eyes were just shining with joy. Then Luke's face flashed before my eyes! And he was really, really laughing! Then Josiah, Josh, and Ashli followed, each one just bubbling with healthy, contagious, laughter! It was like a sweet aroma to me this morning! I couldn't help but feel joy rise in my heart as I meditated on my children's happy faces. 

Many times laughter has been the glue that has held our family together. Every time we vacationed stresses would nearly overtake our journey. Especially for me. It was a huge job getting all seven of us somewhere, even to church on Sunday mornings! But to pack for a week was HUGE. 

The task was daunting for a woman who does not major in organizational skills! I would usually despair before we were in the car, usually having lost my desire to travel at all. But since everything would finally be in the car, off we would go. I could not bear the thought of unpacking right then either! 

With five kids and four of them boys, you can probably imagine some of our mishaps and misfortunes! Some were unimaginable!  It was absolutely crazy sometimes!!!! 

But night would come and we would all settle in a motel room. There would not even be room to make a path to the bathroom, the floor was completely carpeted in kids. We would all be snuggled in and then it would start. 

Someone would bring up an event from the day and the giggles would begin. Then another would remember something, that possibly wasn't even funny at the time, but reflection would bring near hysteria to the situation, and volatile laughter would just explode! This would go on and on until at we would get a call or a knock on the door from the hotel staff telling us that they were getting complaints about us! Our neighbors were wondering what kind of party we were having anyway! We should be restrained before we caused considerable damage to hotel property. 

Well, this made it even more difficult to control ourselves. Have you ever gotten the giggles when the situation was supposed to be serious, and you just couldn't help yourself? If so, you can relate to our dilemma. Their call would only fuel the fire of our giddiness. Oh, we were in trouble! Deep trouble! Again!!!!

Looking back, I don't remember all of the places that we took our dear ones, or their responses. However, I will never forget the laughter we shared every time we journeyed from home. It would not have been the same if we had not been all piled in the same room! That was the most fun we ever had on any of our trips away. 

My mom was having a tough day yesterday. It was Father's Day. We buried her older brother last week. My dad and her dad (grandpa) are both gone. It is kind of a hard day for that reason.

 Well, Scotty decided to lighten up the whole situation. He had been outside working on my wandering rose bushes and he came in disgustingly sweaty. His shirt could have been wrung out, leaving a puddle. So instead of just taking it off, he took it off like he was doing a striptease act, swinging his little behind, and humming a little tune. My mom laughed so hard I thought she was going to wet her pants! And she was sitting next to me!!!! He does these kinds of things all the time to make me laugh, but I have never seen him so bold as to do his little dance in front of our parents.

For those of you with vulgar imaginations, he was not gross! Our parents are not into gross! He was just funny!!!! 

Well, he enjoyed the laughter so much, he just kept up his antics!!! He didn't remove any more clothing, but he continued to be silly! It was good! It was funny! He left the room finally and returned in a fresh clean shirt. A whole lot of heaviness that had hung in the air had seemed to depart with him and he returned to a fresh new environment. 

Laughter is good for the soul. There are healing powers in our laughter. It is good to laugh at oneself. These are not really scriptures, but there are scriptures about laughter. Do you have a favorite scripture about laughter? Or how about a favorite funny moment?  I hope that you do!I would love to hear your stories. Please share!

I hope you have many reasons to laugh today!!! 

Many blessings to you, friends!

Cheri

Rescue

She chose every twig, blade of grass, and feather thoughtfully interweaving tendrils and twigs. She drops a feather in for comfort. The nest sturdy but delicate. Secure yet cozy. Designed by inspiration.

Built to endure ferocious winds and costly gales, the nest will prove it's strength. Invisible threads well knit, mock the winds that threaten destruction. Gusts and gales tantalize and twist, testing the weary, bending the strong, breaking the weak. The birdhouse that houses this little nest is tossed, torn  completely off it's pole leaving the nest in a precarious position upon the ground. Eventually the wind gives up the fight, claiming victory. Leaving shattered remains.

Scattered are house, pole, and nest upon the ground. Five tawny eggs lay in the hollow of the nest. Momma wren, perched high up in the tree, sings her song with passion. Is she singing praise in spite of her circumstances? Or is she beckoning the angels of heaven, pleading for a rescue? Perhaps it is only a song of desperation and distraction, trying to persuade our focus from her young. I presume it is the passion of praise. 

Soon her home is totally restored. Her house is replaced on the pole, nest safe inside, house tightened and secure, stronger and more prepared for the next indignant, passing storm. 

Her workmanship, the nest, was supreme, inspired, proving her giftedness. The nest survived the gales, though the birdhouse did not. And her praise endured, though she could not promise hope. She did all that she could do. She trusted the Lord with what she could not do. And help was sent her way. 

Life is such, no? We have wisdom for certain things, but there are some things that are just out of our hands. They are out of our power to fix.  Out of our power to understand. We must rely on higher wisdom.  A stronger Being. Our confidence reaches beyond what we know to Who we know. 

 

Scotty was the angel that came to the rescue of the little wren and her home. He stepped into her disaster and offered rescue and relief. The One that encouraged that little wren to build her nest in our little birdhouse knew that there would be a storm in her future. The One who inspired her talents to build her nest also knew that there would be a man close by that would help her with her cause. He knew that the man would have the compassion and the wisdom to be a help to that little bird. The man could not build the nest, but he could restore the home.

The Lord cares about these things. He notices sparrows that fall to the ground. He notices every sparrow (and wren) that falls to the ground. How much more does He take notice in the storms of our lives? "Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." Matthew 10:31 

Seasons of storms come. Winds blow, circumstances toss, scatter, and sometimes completely leave destruction in their wake. Could we learn from Momma wren who perched herself on one of the highest branches and stirred up a song in spite of her disaster, reaching for help with praise, hoping when their seemed to be no reason to hope?

The storm has since passed. Momma wren goes in and out of the little house. Her arias ring with vibrato . She has survived a very destructive storm. In spite of it her babies are safe. Her home is secure. She rests, rejoices, basking in her reward.  

Legacy

His fingerprints remain on every page. I hold it near to my heart feeling that it has absorbed some of his DNA. I carry it with me nearly everywhere I go. Others might think that it is mine and that I am boasting of my diligence to seek my God. It is not my diligence that I am celebrating. This is an inheritance of sorts, my husband's Bible.

The Lord has faithfully breathed on these pages bringing words to life. He scooped rich treasure from the portals of scripture and deposited into my man's heart. The Lord blesses a seeker. He pours generously from the storehouses of heaven into the heart and mind of the man humble enough to ask. My husband is a humble man.

I have been a witness of a metamorphoses of sorts. A good man, brilliant, fun, honest, tender man, become even more wonderful as he has looked into the mirror of these pages and found his own reflection. "Mirror, mirror on the wall".....the reflection has caused an awakening at times. The reflection has birthed pause and prayer. Prayer has brought about change.

The Lord has dealt bountifully with Scotty and I have become the beneficiary of time well invested. Oh, I am not the only one, but I am the most grateful one. 

Scotty has been using a different Bible for some time now. He has read through the "new" one several times and it's pages are also wearing thin. Perhaps the newer one will be passed to one of our children or a grandchild someday. For now I am carrying his first Bible. The first one that he actually read. Other neglected copies remain stoic on the shelf. This one he has meditated over. Pondered. Stained with tears. Passed to me. I feel that I am carrying part of him with me everywhere I go. It's like I am holding onto a relationship between God and man. My man. A relationship that will never break. An eternal bond.

You might argue my case here, saying it is just a Bible. Something temporal. Something that will burn someday. But friends, there are few things in this world that have transformed my world as effectively as this copy of the written Word. So it remains an earthly treasure to me. I have an affinity for it. I will carry it for years to come. As it has carried me.

This treasure will be passed. My fingerprints will be mingled with Scotty's. My tears will leave a traces, and a legacy will be passed. 

Best Friends

*Update on Brock. The chemo and radiation treatments have been stopped for two weeks. They will do an MRI at the end of that time, hoping that it will reveal a shrunken tumor. In the meantime, Brock is beginning intense physical therapy hoping that he will regain some of his motor skills. He is not happy about this. Please be praying for him. He has a lot of pain.  There has been a prayer group established for Brock on Facebook that hosts nearly 500 people that are diligently praying for his recovery. Thank you for joining us in faith believing that nothing is too difficult for our God!!!!

My son, Caleb, has a best friend that is suffering. I called him last Monday where he lives in New York City and asked if he wouldn't pray about making a trip home to see  Brock. He was able to get a ticket and fly into Kansas City the next morning. We then headed to Brock's grandma's house where he is laid up.

I was his driver so I experienced first-hand the emotion of this trip. 

Brock has a brain tumor in the center of his brain that has tentacles that are spreading. He has not talked in six weeks. He has had three holes drilled in his brain. Two to place in shunts, one to drain the blood from a severe hemorrhage. His once healthy form is not immobile and a bit misshapen. He has been taking chemo and radiation treatments. Brock is 22. 

It was hard to have words to say or pray when you are choking back sobs hoping that the one you want to talk to will not be able to tell. It was one of the hardest days ever to see such pain exchanged here. Pain from the heart is always the most difficult. It is hard to understand. You want to explain. You want to believe, but your eyes try to convince your flesh that there is no hope. It is such a fight to keep the faith. There is such a pleading going on inside for God to pour out His mercy.

Years ago Caleb and Brock went on a mission trip to Brazil together. They spent a summer ministering, spreading the gospel, and working alongside one another. Young boys at the time, they were making an impact on the world. They had been friends before that time, but that trip strengthened the tie between them. 

Brock has a fiance that has been having stress related seizures since Brock was diagnosed. I took Caleb to see her after our visit with Brock. She had seizures the whole time we were with her. She is very young to be dealing with all of this. She doesn't really have anyone to support her emotionally right now. Please pray for Nicole as well. I know Caleb was a comfort to her.

A day passed, Caleb prepared himself,  and we stopped back by to visit with Brock on the way to the airport. It was better for Caleb this time. He could talk to Brock. He prayed with him. Brock cried. 

In the picture (from our first visit), Brock's grandma asked if he could shake Caleb's hand. He reached over and took Caleb's hand. They held hands for quite a while. You can see that Caleb is holding back emotion. It was rough.

My dad passed away four years ago from last Saturday, May 30, 2005. Caleb spoke at dad's funeral. He said that speaking at that funeral and seeing Brock the way he is were the two most difficult times of his life so far. I wish I could tell him that it will be the last time it will be hard for him or that it will never get worse than that. 

It was hard seeing Brock that way. I visited with his mom and dad and tried to be a comfort to them and that was difficult too. But seeing my son, Caleb, so distraught was really, really hard.

Thank you to those of you who have added Brock to your prayer list. Please include his sweetheart, Nicole. Did I tell you that Caleb introduced them? He knew that they were the perfect match. 

There is power in agreement, friends!

Thank you,

Cheri