Category: a bit of history

a bit of history

then and now…

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I was 9.  The auditorium was full.  My seat was two thirds of the way back, sitting with my Aunt Flo – my parents were at the front.  As I sat on the red padded pews, my attention was secured on the speaker, Wendell Calder.  He was giving a sermon on missions and I was listening to every word.

My heart was pounding and my face was flush as he drew the message to a close.  The Holy Spirit, clearly was whispering in my ear.  “Are you willing?”  Even at 9, I remember Him speaking directly to me and my heart was changed.  That night I yielded.  I told Him I would do whatever He wanted me to do. And I fully expected that He would have me on the plane to Africa as soon as I was an adult, although I wasn’t exactly sure of when that would be.

That was then.

Fast forward 26 years.  I am not a missionary in Africa.  I would go if He sent me.  But, I’m a mom.  I’m a wife, a piano teacher, a sister, friend. etc… etc…  I’m settled into my role as a woman, but sometimes its complicated.  Sometimes its stressful.  Impossible.  Certainly not glamorous or extraordinary.

Yesterday morning I had the privilege to be a part of leading worship at a Missions Conference.  I was looking forward to the service and I knew that when the music was over I would hear a message that would move me.  And I was not let down.

He spoke about a gap.  The gap between my own condition, which is one of sin and inability, and my calling – which is whatever God has given me to do.  He very clearly described how to find a way to live in that gap:  As I come to know Him better, who He is and His power, I find the grace to become able.

This is now:

Regularly I realize my own lack of strength or character to do even the small tasks He gives me.  But, even this simple concept gripped my heart.  My calling, not full time missions in Africa but rather my home – my life as wife and mother, was His work to do through me.  I need to live in the middle of the gap and let my Heavenly Father fill it.

As He finished the message, once again I could hear the Holy Spirit tenderly speaking, requesting my surrender- not unlike my first missions conference so long ago.   Even yesterday I felt my heart beat a bit faster, I struggled to hold tears back : not because I wanted control or because I was frustrated or disappointed.  Instead, my eyes welled up because it was a peaceful takeover.  I was basking in His love. How mercifully He places me exactly where He wants me to be – inside this knowledge I find rest.  And there is strength to carry on in the calling He has given me.

Would I go to Africa?  Sure.  But, I’m here : weak in my own condition, empowered by the Spirit, in the middle of this gap.  And there’s no place I’d rather be.

2 Thessalonians 1: 11-12

With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may bring to fruition your every desire for goodness and your every deed prompted by faith. 12 We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.[a]


a bit of history · friends and loved ones

Wiggle Waggle Loop de Loo…

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(originally written March 2010)

My sweet little baby doll, Mackenzie, is just a few days away from being 10 months old. We have accomplished a word – “uh-oh”, she has 2 bottom middle teeth making an entrance and she can scoot in a sitting position anywhere. Her favorite book to read with me is “Wiggle Waggle Loop-de-Loo.” She laughs through the whole book. Its safe to say she loves it!

This morning when I came into the living room, she had inched over near the book and looked up at me smiling, as if requesting to read it. I almost walked by and continued with my agenda. But, I stopped. Almost audibly I heard a voice say, “Seize the moment…” We read the book through several times to the music of my baby’s giggles. I have labeled this memory and filed it away for the “long term” folder.

It seems that my life is passing by as a series of opportunities. Sometimes I miss them they rush by so quickly, once in a while I’m able to make the most of them.

Recently we had new neighbors move into the house across the street. At the time, I was thrilled and asked the Lord to help us reach out to them. That was my sincere prayer… and He is answering in a series of opportunities.

Yesterday, my husband arrived home from work, we ate dinner quickly and he went outside to work on a “house” project before the daylight faded. I stayed inside while Mackenzie took her evening nap. As I sat in the living room, I heard some laughing outside. When I looked out the window – I saw my husband had abandoned his project. He and Emily, along with the dad from across the street were helping our new neighbors learn to ride our extra bicycles. Michael had seized the moment.

So often I am not good at seizing. I’m good at planning and sticking with the plan. I don’t do well with change at the drop of a hat… But, God is working to make my rigid heart pliable with these opportunities. Its in every day situations – with my own children, with my neighbors, with friends and on and on the list goes.

For me, its giving up my control and letting Him whisper to me – following His lead with quick obedience. When He gives me a chance to be “Jesus” to those around me, I can no longer choose the other – I must choose to dig in, I must seize the moment. And I must, no matter how out of character it is for me, no matter how far out of my comfort zone it is.

I’m reminded of one of my favorite verses :

Ephesians 2:10 “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Dear heavenly Father, Help me to remember that You have created me and that you have a very special work for me to do. Please, let me hear your voice and obey right away.

Here is your fair warning : If you call and I don’t catch the phone the first time around, just know this- I may be doing something else important, something unplanned, something requiring my instantaneous attention. I just might be reading “Wiggle Waggle Loop de Loo!”

a bit of history · friends and loved ones · who knows?

storm

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Today we’ve experienced a bit of uneasiness at our house.  We’ve had some windy, rainy weather- with possible tornados.  My daughter, Emily gets a little bit nervous when situations like this come up, so there was a lot of watching the sky – waiting for things to get ugly.No matter how old I get, there is something just a bit unnerving about waiting for  a tornado to drop in any minute.

I can remember my first tornado experience.  I was probably 5 or so, living with my family in Danville, IL.  We waited it out in the basement – I was terrified at the time. The next day I found there was reason for my fear.  Riding in the car with my mom to church, we saw things strewn around from peoples homes – a mattress from someone’s bed was on the side of the road. and it looked like maybe the contents of their dresser drawers had been scattered everywhere.

Today as we waited for the bad weather to pass, I tried to comfort my frightened girl. But the truth is – I couldn’t make any valid promises – and she knew it.  I don’t control the weather , good or bad, and she is quite aware of that fact.

I had my own mini storm of sorts last week.  The kind that doesn’t amount to anything in the long run, but it was enough to make me think.  enough to get my insides twisted into knots.  I was reminded of something then, and again today.

This storm is not mine.  Its His.  He controls the winds and the rain.  I can not change the circumstances.  I can only change my response.  In the midst of questions, fears, frustrations all I can do is surrender to the one who owns it.

When I am able to move into a posture of complete surrender, which by my humble definition is : believing that He is the one in control, that He is continually working things for my good, that I can trust Him and believe His Word – its then that I am able to praise Him through the roughest of storms.

His promise from Isaiah 41:10 is real: “So do not fear for I am with you, do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for Your promises – for your presence, your strength, your help.  There is no where I would rather be than in the palm of  your righteous right hand.  May my heart give You praise in the midst of it all.  amen.

There’s an old hymn that I remember singing in church when I was young – and it seems more than appropriate for a day like today.

Till the Storm Passes By

In the dark of the midnight,
Have I oft hid my face;
While the storm howls above me,
And there’s no hiding place;
‘Mid the crash of the thunder,
Precious Lord, hear my cry;
“Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by.”

When the long night has ended,
And the storms come no more,
Let me stand in Thy presence.
On that bright, peaceful shore.
In that land where the tempest
Never comes, Lord may I
Dwell with Thee when the storm passes by.

‘Til the storm passes over,
‘Til the thunder sounds no more;
‘Til the clouds roll forever from the sky,
Hold me fast, let me stand,
In the hollow of Thy hand;
Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by.

a bit of history · friends and loved ones

Who’s your daddy?

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About a year ago now, my husband’s family received astonishing news.  They had relatives in France.  Without reviewing all of the details, as each chapter of this story has unfolded, we have seen the hand of God.   There is a man in France, named Jean who is related to us – and by the grace of God, he found Michael’s dad.  Now Michael’s dad has been able to help him learn more about their common relative. Until last year, Jean had very little knowledge of his own dad.

Because of modern technology they have been able to ichat once.  And, Michael’s dad has been able to ichat regularly with Maud, our french cousin.  Its all quite glorious  helping them fit the pieces of their life’s puzzle together.    Imagine!  Never knowing your father.  I have no idea what its like.

I’ve always known my dad.  He’s been very present in my life from my birth, right up until now.  I can tell you a lot about my dad.   For instance I know he doesn’t like peanut butter in his dessert.  No peanut butter cups for dad.  I also know he is an avid St.Louis Cardinals fan.  I’ve experienced Disney World three times with my dad: once when I was 6, when I was 18 and recently when I was 33.  I’ve watched him play church softball, and I’ve prayed for Him in the moments just after his heart attack.  He’s a man of integrity and he is a phenomenal husband, dad and pastor.  This is just the tip of the iceberg…

I can’t fathom not knowing my dad.   He’s the one who introduced me to my Heavenly Father.   I became a believer at a young age and He has been a part of my life ever since.  What would life be like without Him?

I’d like to tell you that I know Him really well… and sometimes I think I do.  I know the accounts of His miracles from Scripture.  I can list His attributes.  But, often (far too often)  I don’t actually take into account who He is in my daily life.

This is how I noticed it today.  Our french relatives may come for a visit within the next year or so.  Since I’m the one who is half canadian, who took french in elementary school, and high school and college, it stands to reason that I would brush up my skills and get back a bit of my vocabulary.  But I’m procrastinating.  I have borrowed a Rosetta Stone french curriculum from a friend – and it is sitting prettily in the corner of my bedroom closet.    Why, you ask?

Because I’ve forgotten who my heavenly Father is.

I know He parted the Red Sea, and His Son fed the 5000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish.  I absolutely believe in those miracles.  But, I’m not confident that he can work a miracle that involves me remembering how to ask things like, “What time is it?” in french.  Sometimes I think its easier to believe He can do earth shattering things rather than simple little things…

But He promises to help us accomplish the things He’s called us to do.  Paul knew it was true in Philippians 4 when he confessed:

“I can do all things through Him ho gives me strength.”

In this case, I have to believe that by the power of the Holy Spirit, I will be able to  revive all of that french that is shoved away in the far corners of my brain.  And, by counting on who my Heavenly Father  is and what He can do, I might be able to help Jean learn more about his Father.

Heavenly Father,  Thank you for your promises that I find in your Word.  Help me learn to rely on them more.  Let your gift of faith swell in my heart, overriding my fears.  And when a miracle occurs – when those french words roll off my tongue – I pray that You alone will be glorified!  amen.

a bit of history · who knows?

Seasons…

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Fall is my favorite season.  I love the weather, the colors.  Fresh air and open windows.  Jack-o-lanterns on the front porch, and hot apple cider.  There is nothing better than a walk on a cool fall night that requires a sweater and a warm hand to hold.

I met my husband in the fall – that’s probably why I like it so well.  We were married in September.  My birthday is in October.  My first-born came into this world in November.  Autumn holds many good things for me – I suppose that’s why I’m so nostalgic at this time of year.

One of my favorite memories is of Michael and I.  It was November and we hadn’t been dating too long.  We drove up the W road in his little silver Ford, with the windows down, the breezes blowing and the music from Bela Fleck’s album drive playing.  I was trying to understand his bluegrass music.  He was trying to hold my hand.   Ahhhh romance.   But, we were young and loving life.  Oh it was so much fun…

Little did I know the change that was coming…  a wonderful, exciting, crazy life was in store.  If I had known it all at once, I probably would have passed out for days, or run away.  Now, quite a few years later, I can look back and see what has come to pass so far; an amazing life, orchestrated by an incredible conductor.

For now, as I wander through this fall of 2010, and see the colors of the leaves changing, I find myself wondering…  “What changes are coming Lord?  What do you have in store for my precious little family?”  Because I know, seasons mean change…  it won’t be October forever.

Its simple, but promising in so many ways…

“Jesus Christ, the same, yesterday today and forever.”

I find myself needing these words to penetrate my heart, today more than yesterday.  As my seasons come and go, as I find circumstances changing faster than I’d like, I can remain firmly established because of those words.   It doesn’t mean I’ll appreciate the new better than the old.  It certainly doesn’t mean life will be just how I like it.  But it does mean that He is unchanging in His goodness, His mercy and His love.    As fall passes and winter approaches, I know he will be with me through it all.

Heavenly Father,

I thank you for all of the changes that have come into my life.  And more, I thank you for walking with me through each one.  Help me to be steadfast in your love, no matter what the future holds.    amen

a bit of history · friends and loved ones

the splitzie

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I’ve been reminiscing a lot over the past few weeks.  The memories I have from my childhood summers are so brilliant and vivid, I can’t hide from them.  They follow me.  They pester.  They make me laugh.  They reveal who I am.

So, there’s a particular recurring event that happened each evening – and I can’t help but share it with you…  it was our bedtime snack.  Better known at my GG’s house as the splitzie.  For my sister and I it was a favorite part of the day.  Our splitzie was a package of snowballs, a culinary delight made by Hostess, that we shared.  one each.  And just in case you don’t know a snowball is chocolate cake, filled with white cream, covered with a layer of marshmallow and rolled in coconut.  my mouth is watering now.

The bedtime snack had been named long before – my dad and my uncles, long before our time had also shared a splitzie at bedtime.  It was natural that Marilyn and I would continue on the tradition.   Recently she texted me to say that her husband had just brought home a whole grocery bag of snowballs “for the kids”.    If she really loved me, she would send me one.

These days we don’t share snowballs.  I mean, its not possible…  she’s more than 8 hours away.  But we do splitzie other things.  Just to be clear, my definition of spliztie is fairly simple: to give a portion of something to someone so that you can share it together.

Recently my sister and I have been splitzy-ing a lot.  And while its been difficult in some ways, its been as delightful as a snowball as well.  We get to talk and email and text a lot.  She has been willing to split some of my burdens with me.  When I have something that is too heavy on my own, she is there and we chat and I know she prays for me.  It makes the whole thing a lot easier to know she’ll go splitzies with me.

And really this is how I believe we find Christ’s love in action.  I find that He is there for me, able to bear the burden with me, even for me, through my sister’s love and willingness.  And, I believe its how He tangibly ministers to me today – through others’ obedience to Him, loving one another, bearing each others burdens.

from 1 John:

Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ is born of God, and everyone who loves the father loves his child as well. This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands. This is love for God: to obey his commands. And his commands are not burdensome, for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.

I am so thankful for His work in my life, for others who are willing to share in my journey – and the love that He provides through a splitzie!

amen.

md

a bit of history

GG’s books

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Today I cleaned my kitchen.  It had a layer of goo everywhere.  I’ve been blaming it on my children because they create goo.  But, today I had enough.  The grime had to go.  I scrubbed, I polished, I shined, I wiped, I swept, I mopped…  My kitchen was sparkly for about 2 minutes.  And then I had to make dinner.

During my cleaning extravaganza I decided to sift through all of my magazines and cook books.  I purged quite a few Southern Living and Better Homes and Gardens from 2006 and 2007.  Looking through everything was like piecing together my culinary history.  I have quite a sordid past.

There were several seasonal Pampered Chef recipe booklets from 1999 and 2000, a lot of “Everyday Food” from 2007, old church cookbooks, some specialized cookie and Christmas baking books.  There’s my collection of Better Homes and Gardens and Betty Crocker anthologies – you know the binders with the red and white checkered covers…  And more recently, my book on purees, my artisan bread book and “This is not your Mother’s Slow cooker” cook book.  But there was one that I was happy to find…

My GG’s handwritten booklet of favorite recipes.  As I leafed through it, I was misty.  Recipes of all kinds – in her handwriting.  Okay, I wept.  This week is the anniversary of when she went to be with Jesus and her beloved husband. I still miss her terribly.  I was thirteen when she left ; a big hole formed in her absence.  Finding her recipes today helped to fill that hole just a bit.

There are two other important books that I managed to keep for myself that belonged to GG.  One was her anthology of Longfellow poetry and the other was her personal Bible.  I have tried to read the handwritten notes in her Bible to gain wisdom from her own personal thoughts –  its  hard to decipher.  But, with one look at the Bible itself – I don’t have to  wonder if she spent time in God’s word.

GG left quite a legacy behind for all of us who loved and knew her.  She loved God and her family.  Her sense of humor always had us in stitches.   She taught us to behave without speaking an angry word.  And she could make the best cinnamon rolls from scratch that you have ever eaten.  Even in her later years she would quote poetry without hesitation and she did the daily crossword from the paper.  What a heritage I have from her…

And now – twenty two years later I can’t help but wonder… What am I leaving behind for my children, grand children and great grand children?  Will they know of my love for the Savior?  Will they remember me for my gentleness and my sense of humor?

I don’t know the answer to any of these questions.  But I know my Heavenly Father’s answer.

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations.     Psalm 100:5

This is His promise.  I can see that now – from GG, to my grandparents, on to my parents and now on to me.  He has been so merciful to our family and I believe He will continue, no matter who I become.    I don’t know if I will be just like my GG, but I can hope…  from the books and memories she left behind for me, I have a bit of work to do.    Especially on the cinnamon rolls!

I will sing of the LORD’s great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations. Psalm 89:1

a bit of history · friends and loved ones

reflections from the beach pt. 3

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(originally written June 3, 2010…  yes, its been a hectic day, so I’m posting this for now – but there are fresh thoughts brewing…  will post them soon!)

I’d be lying if I told you there wasn’t a hard part about going to the beach. It begins with the word swimsuit. I’ve never really liked donning a swimsuit, but what’s a girl to do at the beach?

My sister brought me a lovely coverup – a cute little dress and I actually enjoyed wearing it. But at some point, if I was going to swim I had to wear a bathing suit. This means coming to terms, once again with myself. I am a mother of three children, whose shape reflects this fact. I continue to work at being healthy and I regularly exercise, but I am confident I will never look 21 again.

Why is this a problem? I would like to be like the other beautiful people at the beach. Slender, unafraid to step out in their swim clothes, their hair perfect, sand does not stick to their wet flip flops – they are a walking utopia for me…

You see, as I hard as I try, I am continually brought to my knees on this point: My beauty as a woman has absolutely nothing to do with how I look in tankini. The Lord knows how much time I have spent discussing this with him. I would prefer to have someone else’s body – but this is not what is supposed to be so elevated in importance to me.

There are people who laugh at this, but I believe it is true: To be beautiful on the inside is what the heavenly father seeks first for me and that is what is important. I know that because of His work in my life, I am becoming a beautiful woman. His desire is for His fruit to blossom and grow, creating a most beautiful creature by His hand. Anything else, inside or out is only a counterfeit.

Does this mean I give up on the temple He has given me? Absolutely not. I have every intention of making healthy choices and being as physically fit as possible. But my desire is to be comfortable in my own skin, no matter where I am in the process.

More importantly I want to value what my Heavenly Father thinks of my inward beauty over what the world sees in my outward beauty. Wow is that hard for me. But, as I sat on the beach I was able to reflect on what He sees. I am far more patient with my children than I used to be. I am learning what it means to treat others with love and respect. He and I together are making strides towards the beauty He desires for me.

Proverbs 31: 30

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;

but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Heavenly Father,

Help me to see from your point of view when I look in the mirror. When it comes to beauty, remind me once again how beautiful I am and how much you love me, no matter my size or how my bathing suit looks… Let me walk in this confidence alone!

m

a bit of history

a boggle kind of life

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In the summer of 1984, I think that’s right, yes, the summer before I turned nine, we spent several weeks with my great grandmother in Iowa.  GG, which is what we affectionately called her, introduced my sister and I to a game called Boggle.

There was no tv at GG’s, and so we played games like I Spy, Hide the Thimble and Boggle for literally hours on end.  and we picked strawberries out in the enormous garden.  But, its Boggle I still play to this day.  Oh, I get such a thrill in the race against time, searching for as many words as possible – Its addicting, I tell you.  like dove dark chocolate.

In fact, I just finished a round with my sister.  After all this time we still love to play even though we live more than 8 hours apart.  Thanks to technology we just challenge each other over our phones with a Boggle app – and  we can toss in a little “trash talk” at the end.  It really gets the game going… all with sisterly love, of course.

Sometimes it seems like my life is a lot like the game of Boggle.  Just when I think I know whats going on, there’s a shake up.  Everything gets tossed around and then, I have to start over, trying to make sense of things.  I find myself searching for answers regarding my past, hoping for direction for my future.  But, once again time’s up and the re-arranging continues – new words, new ideas, new circumstances and lots more questions.

The older I get, and I am getting older this week in fact, the more I realize that nothing is certain.  There is one exception:  God and His Word does not change.  In the middle of my confusion, He is constant. The answers to my questions, the tour guide, the recipe, the flash light, if you will – He is all of these things for my life…

Here’s the rub.  I am a person who likes to find my own answers.  And that is a problem.  In this kind of Boggle life I’m living, I’m terrible at remembering :  I am not the answer to my questions. Anything that tries to tell me otherwise, well – that is only “trash talk.”

My search can only be satisfied one way.

from Psalms:

“Your Word is a Lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”

from Proverbs:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths. ”

Sometimes He provides enough light for the next step on my path.  But, sometimes He shines like a bright light that illuminates my night as if it is day. It can come over me slowly and quietly like a beautiful morning’s sunrise. Or it may burst on the scene boldly like an unexpected epiphany.  But, whatever He provides is enough for the moment.   And there is peace for my journey, when I step into that light, that is beyond any comfort I can conjure up on my own.

Lord,

Give me the courage to be dependent on You, rather than searching in the dark on my own.  There’s no way I can find my way alone.  When my life is turned upside down with questions and cares, keep my eyes focused on You and the way You are leading me.  Help me to walk in the light that only You can provide.

amen.

If you’ll excuse me, I just got a text from my sister… I’ve got a Boggle score to settle…

md

a bit of history · who knows?

wash up for lunch…

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I’m waiting in the kitchen, quietly.  Listening…  Is the water running?  nope.  And now, scampering feet come down the hall.  I ask him, “Isaac, did you wash your hands?  Its time for lunch!”  His dark brown eyes look up at me and tell me without words…  “Please go wash your hands, its time to eat!”

He comes back with clean hands – we all gather at the table and eat our lunch.  This is our daily ritual now, it seems.  Every once in a while, he will go and wash his hands without being asked – and usually it is an hour long event – including half a bottle of soap, lots of bubbles, maybe a wash cloth and other toys that need to be “cleaned up.”

As an adult I know.  Its so important to wash hands.  It keeps harmful germs at bay.  goodness, I wash up constantly – after diapers, after sweeping, before I cook.  You name it – it seems constant, but I do it for the sake of good hygiene.  Helping my son understand, is not so easy – I just have to start by helping him make it a habit.

I remember a very significant, similar lesson learned when I was young.  I was in Miss Kerwin’s second grade class.  Yes – I loved her.  I was seven and she was the best teacher ever.  She had beautiful shoes – with bows on them and I wanted to be just like her.

Anyway, the long and the short of it – I cheated.  On a math test.  I knew it was wrong.  But, I looked on the girl’s paper who sat next to me.  Deep down it felt awful.  For days I carried it around in the pit of my stomach.  The longer I toted the sin with me, the worse I felt.  I was sin- sick  from my cheating.  It was a miserable few days.

I finally confessed.  I told my beautiful, wonderful teacher, Miss Kerwin.  And do you know what she did? She told me how to talk to God about it.  And we did.  Right there at her desk.   It was a wonderful healing moment.  She taught me how to be forgiven.  I was a young believer and had lost my way, in my sin, feeling dreadful – and she in a very sweet and gracious way gave me the key to a new habit, that could keep me healthy spiritually.

Forgiveness from the  Heavenly Father, made possible by His son, is the only way to a healthy heart. When I ignore my sin, it grows and decays my heart.  The disease spreads and I am separated from Him. But when I take my sin to Him and confess it, He promises to forgive. The disease is washed away and my heart is made clean.   And there is a peace that follows because my relationship with Him is restored.

Psalm 24:3-5 says this:

Who may ascend the hill of the LORD ?
Who may stand in his holy place?

He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
who does not lift up his soul to an idol
or swear by what is false. [a]

He will receive blessing from the LORD
and vindication from God his Savior.

My son is still learning the habit of washing up for lunch… I hope someday that I can help him understand how important it is to keep a clean heart as well, just like Miss Kerwin did for me.   How amazing it is to know that there is forgiveness of sins provided and guaranteed by Jesus.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.  1 John 1:9

Heavenly Father,

Help me to remember to keep a short account with you, so that my heart and life are clean, free of sin’s disease.  I know I don’t deserve it.  Thank you for this beautiful gift of forgiveness and restoration.  I love you.

amen.