He Giveth More Grace

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater;
He sendeth more strength ere the labors increase.
To added affliction He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving has only begun.

His love has no limit,
His grace has no measure,
His power has no boundaries known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth and giveth and giveth again.

Poem: ‘He Giveth More Grace’
Written by Annie Johnson Flint

Kites In The Wind

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes...
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

 

Poem: ‘Wind on the Hill’ by A. A. Milne
Photos taken on a recent trip to the Oregon Coast

Finally–Immediately

Lord

You said so gently

So persistently

‘Give me your weariness

And I will give you rest."’

I did – finally.

You did – immediately.

Then, Lord, I marveled

That I had waited so long.

Then Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.’ Matthew 11:28 (NLT)

from the writings of Ruth Harms Calkin

A Story To Live By

(This story was shared by my friend, Mrs. J., at her birthday tea last Sunday. It touched my heart and I wanted to share it with you. You may need a tissue or two!)

~~~~~~~

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister’s bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is not a slip. This is lingerie.’ He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. ‘Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least eight or nine years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion.’ He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. ‘Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you’re alive is a special occasion.’

I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister’s family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn’t seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special. I’m still thinking about his words, and they’ve changed my life.

I’m reading more and dusting less. I’m sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden.

I’m spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I’m trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

I’m not ‘saving’ anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event – such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.

I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out twenty eight dollars and forty-nine cents for one small bag of groceries without wincing.

I’m not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends.

‘Someday’ and ‘one of these days’ are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it’s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I’m not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn’t be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted.

It’s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry and sorry that I didn’t tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.

I’m trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is. . .a gift from God.

Written by Ann Wells in the Los Angeles Times

His Unfailing Presence

Another year I enter
Its history unknown;
Oh, how my feet would tremble
To tread its paths alone!
But I have heard a whisper,
I know I shall be blest;
"My presence shall go with thee,
And I will give thee rest."

What will the New Year bring me?
I may not, must not know;
Will it be love and rapture,
Or loneliness and woe?
Hush! Hush! I hear His whisper;
I surely shall be blest;
"My presence shall go with thee,
And I will give thee rest."
- Unknown Author

‘If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.’ The LORD replied, ‘My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.’ Then Moses said to him, ‘If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here.’ Exodus 33:13-15 (NIV)

Faithfulness

Will you stay where e’er He puts you,
Though the pathway may seem drear?
For it may be that the kitchen
Is the cross for you to bear.

Not the highways nor the hedges,
Or unto the uttermost;
He now calls you for a witness,
Will you stay at any cost?

For the glory got up yonder
Will not be for waters crossed;
Or the many miles you’ve traversed
In your quest to find the lost.

Do your part and be ye faithful,
For this is our Lord’s command;
It’s the willing service rendered,
That wins the crown held in His hand.
-Margaret Minton, 1936

Written by a very dear friend shortly after her marriage. Now she is in the presence of Jesus after a long life of love and service to her Savior. She stayed at home to raise six children while her evangelist husband travelled to minister wherever God led him. Her sweet smile, patience and gentle sense of humor will be missed. She was full of faith, a woman whose prayers were answered - she was faithful to the end.

Ecstasy of Joy

O dear Lord
What ecstasy of joy
That you took the whole of me
And made me wholly Yours!

from ‘Lord, Could You Hurry a Little?’
by Ruth Harms Calkins

The Virtuoso

Many years ago, a mother took her boy to a concert by the legendary Polish born piano virtuoso Paderewski, wishing to encourage his progress on the piano. After they were seated, the mother spotted an old friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her. Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked ‘NO ADMITTANCE.’

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing. Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, ‘Don't quit. Keep playing.’ Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato.

Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful. The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, ‘Don't quit. Keep playing.’ May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.

Remember, God doesn't seem to call the equipped rather, He equips the 'called.'
- author unknown

God Is Your Home

God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.
John 4:24

Don’t think you are separated from God, he at the top end of a great ladder, you at the other. Dismiss any thought that God is on Venus while you are on earth. Since God is Spirit (John 4:23), he is next to you: God himself is our roof. God himself is our wall. And God himself is our foundation.

Moses knew this, “Lord,” he prayed, “you have been our home since the beginning (Psalm 90:1). What a powerful thought: God as your home. Your home is the place where you can kick off your shoes and eat pickles and crackers and not worry about what people think when they see you in your bathrobe.

Your home is familiar to you. No one has to tell you how to locate your bedroom. . .God can be equally familiar to you. With time you can learn where to go for nourishment, where to hide for protection, where to turn for guidance. Just as your earthly house is a place of refuge, so God’s house is a place of peace. God’s house has never been plundered, his walls have never been breached.

from ‘The Great House of God’
written by Max Lucado
artwork: ‘Victorian Spring ‘
artist: Susan Tolle Mcclure
available through art.com

What Color Is Autumn?

What color is Autumn?
I really can’t tell -
Sometimes it is golden,
I know it so well,
And then very suddenly
To my surprise,
It changes to auburn
In front of my eyes.
What color is nature
This late Autumn day?
There’s a whirlwind of orange
In the leaves as they play,
But no – some are brown
Or a crimson would seem,
But there in the valley,
A trace still of green.
What color October?
My dear, can’t you tell,
’Tis a rainbow of beauty
Where Autumn doth dwell.
The green and the golden,
The crimson and brown. . .
You’ll find Autumn's colors
In leaves falling down.

- Garnett Ann Schultz -

All

O God

Thank You, thank You

For Your reiterated ALL. . . .

You have promised:

ALL my needs shall be supplied.

ALL grace shall abound toward me.

ALL the promises are mine.

ALL things asked I shall receive.

ALL sufficiency for ALL things.

You are with me always

ALL the days.

And today!

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!

Psalm 136: 1

Written by Ruth Havens Calkin

Accept - Expect

My Father

Empower me to accept

All You have promised

And to expect

Every promise fulfilled.

May I never forget

How completely I am in Your hands.

-Ruth Harms Calkins-

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He Who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23

The Night of Light

I am the light of the world.

He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness.

John 8:12

This month the birthday of Jesus Christ will be celebrated all over the world. It will be celebrated in various ways in many languages, by people of all races. For a few hours many in the world will stop talking of satellites, rockets and war. For a few hours they will talk of peace on earth and good will toward men. People will exchange their gifts and talk about the Prince of Peace.

Imagine the scene in Bethlehem two thousand years ago. It was the night of nights, and yet it had begun as every other night had before it.

But it was to become the greatest, most significant night of history. This was the night that would conquer darkness and bring in the day when there would be no more night. This was the night when those who sat in darkness would see a great light. This was the night God brought into the world the One who is 'the light of the world.'

May His light shine in your life this Christmas season!

From 'Hope For Each Day: Words of Wisdom and Faith' by Billy Graham

Photo: 'Northern Lights in the North Sky' from art.com

Lessons Learned

Count your garden by the flowers,

Never by the leaves that fall

Count your days by golden hours,

Don't remember clouds at all . . .

Count your nights by stars, not shadows,

Count your life with smiles, not tears.

And all throughout your lifetime,

Count your age by friends, not years.

-Author unknown-

Autumn Leaves

Leaves are falling, soft as snowflakes,

Red and yellow, gold and brown;

The breeze laughs gaily in the treetops,

Shaking all the color down.

Leaves are covering the gardens

As my blanket covers me.

When cold winter comes, the flowers

Will be warm as warm can be.

Poem: 'Leaf Blankets'

Written by Irene B. Crofoot

Attitude of Gratitude

Let the peace of Christ rule

in your hearts. . . And be thankful

Colossians 3:15 NIV

Thankfulness isn't our usual response when something goes wrong. We may have a hundred good things for which to be thankful - but let one bad thing happen, and it's all we think about!

But the Bible says, 'in everything give thanks' (I Thessalonians 5:18). No matter what happens, we are to give thanks. Cultivate a spirit of thanksgiving in your life. Thank God for every blessing He gives you. Thank Him for Christ and what He has done for you. Even when things go wrong. thank Him that they aren't worse, and you are still in His hands.

Having an attitude of thankfulness in all of life's circumstances will help you react as old Matthew Henry did when he was mugged. He wrote in his diary, 'Let me be thankful first because I was never robbed before; second, although they took my purse, they did not take my life; third, because although they took my all, it was not much; and fourth, because it was I who was robbed, not I who robbed.'

I wonder if I could be that thankful!

from 'Hope For The Heart' by Billy Graham

Play Sublimely

I praise you because you made me

in an amazing and wonderful way.

Psalm 139.14

Antonio Stradivari was a seventeenth-century violin maker whose name in its Latin form, Stradivarious, has become synonymous with excellence. He once said that to make a violin less than his best would be to rob God, who could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins without Antonio.

He was right. God could not make Stradivarious violins without Antonio Stradivari. Certain gifts were given to that craftsman that no other violin maker possessed.

In the same vein, there are certain things you can do that no one else can. Perhaps it is parenting, or constructing houses, or encouraging the discouraged. There are things that only you can do, and you are alive to do them. In the great orchestra we call life, you have an instrument and a song, and you owe it to God to play them both sublimely.

from "The Applause of Heaven"
by Max Lucado

The Sun Is Shining

God makes the sun shine every day ~

even though it is sometimes hidden behind the clouds.

~ Corrie ten Boom ~

Velvets

This pansy has a thinking face

Like the yellow moon.
This one has a face with white blots:
I call him the clown.
Here goes one down the grass
With a pretty look of plumpness;
She is a little girl going to school
With her hands in the pockets of her pinafore.
Her name is Sue.
I like this one, in a bonnet,
Waiting, her eyes are so deep!
But these on the other side,
These that wear purple and blue,
They are the Velvets,
The king with his cloak,
The queen with her gown,
The prince with his feather.
These are dark and quiet
And stay alone.

Poem: "Velvets - By A Bed of Pansies"

Poems By A Little Girl by Hilda Conkling

Songs In The Night

Where is God my maker,

Who giveth songs in the night?

Job 35:10

It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight; but he is skillful who sings when there is not a ray of light to read by, who sings from his heart. No man can make a song in the night of himself; he may attempt it, but he will find that a song in the night must be divinely inspired. Let all things go well, I can weave songs, fashioning them wherever I go out of the flowers that grow on my path; but put me in a desert, where no green thing grows, and wherewith shall I frame a hymn of praise to God?

No, it is not in man's power to sing when all is adverse. . . Since our Maker gives songs in the night, let us wait on him for the music. . . Let us not remain songless because affliction is upon us, but tune our lips to the melody of thanksgiving. Charles H. Spurgeon