I’m sitting in my big leather comfy chair next to my big girl, who is stretched out on the couch.  She’s finally succumbed to a bit of rest, her droopy eyes shutting for a nap.  It was hard for her to believe that she could need anything of the sort at 10:30 in the morning, but I finally convinced her.  “You’ll feel better once you rest,”  I told her.  It was the truth.

I try to tell my daughter the truth as often as possible. She isn’t feeling well today, and I, as her Mama who knows her well, could tell she needed to let herself sleep a bit more.   But, it was hard for her to listen and just rest.

There are times when I have to tell her exactly what I know, so our hearts can be calm.  I rehearse the truths with her as I know them.

Not long ago, I was needing peace, after listening to lies.  A bit physically ill, and emotionally down, I’d been listening to a voice who wasn’t offering truth.  “You’re no good.  No one likes you.  You have no friends. You’re a failure of a mother and you know it.  Why do you even bother? Besides, you won’t be around for long anyway – what could you possibly have to offer anyone? ”  Yep.  that’s what the voice said.  and I listened at first.

But it was my turn to turn my ear towards a voice of truth and find His rest.  because no one can always be the preacher.  and we all have times we need rest.

In those moments, just after listening to the wrong thoughts, I heard life-altering words from my Mom over the phone. As clear as a bell, I remember what she said to me: “Melody, you have to remind yourself of the truth.  Not your feelings.  Not your ideas.  The truth.”

Not far behind that conversation, I could hear words echoing in my heart from another conversation with a friend.  Significant words of truth:  “We have to preach to ourselves with Scripture and keep our thought processes in line with what God says…”

And then what I did next might sound crazy.   I got out my Bible and I didn’t just read a few verses, I preached God’s Word to myself.    Yes, I’m a lousy no-good without Jesus.  But, the bigger and better truth is:  because of Him and His work on the cross, I have hope, and peace. He is able to fill me to overflowing with joy and love, knowing His plan for me is good, because He is good.  And His words are always what I need.

In His presence I find that knotted stomachs loosen, broken hearts mend, and racing minds slow to a peaceful pace.

Maybe that’s why, in Colossians 3, Paul says this:

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. ¹⁶ Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. ¹⁷ And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

And so, I’ve come to find out – sometimes, I’m the preacher – and sometimes I’m the one needing rest.  But all in all, His Word is what I need for every moment – His truth in every word and every deed will always suffice.  Participating in the beauty of His truth will surely bring His rest.

Thank you Heavenly Father, for your Son and for all of these good gifts!

amen. and amen.

It seems like just a short while ago that we were having Sunday dinner at her dining room table.  Mrs. Jones, a most capable and gracious hostess, had invited us over for lunch for the first time.  My Mom, Dad, my sister Marilyn and I had no idea just what kind of delightful meal was in store.

But we quickly found out that her gift for hospitality was extraordinary.  Her home was the closest thing to a Southern Living cover photo.  The food that came from her kitchen was absolutely divine.  And her living room exuded comfort and beauty, the likes of which I had never seen.

Before or since I have never met someone with the gift of welcoming people to their home, not like Mrs. Jones.  She was a role model of grace and kindness to all who came through her front door.

At 16, I didn’t know what to think.  During those first moments in her home, I didn’t know her well and it was a bit overwhelming.   Well, there we sat at the table, that Sunday afternoon, she served the food and asked my dad to say the blessing.  As we quieted our hearts, and the room fell silent for dad’s prayer, there was a rumbling.  It was a gurgling not unlike someone’s stomach makes when they are hungry.

It grew louder and louder as Dad prayed.  And me, my shoulders began to shake violently, trying not giggle.  What would our sophisticated hostess think of a teenage girl laughing during a prayer?  My efforts spread to my sister, and as my Dad finished the blessing, we could not help it and burst into peels of loud laughter.

Both of us girls were sure it was my Mom’s stomach growling that we had heard…  and although we could barely say it for all our giggling, Mrs. Jones began to laugh as well, while my Mom denied it completely.  When we all caught our breath, Mrs. Jones confirmed that indeed it was the coffee pot brewing that had made the loud groaning, not my Mom.

Every time we had a meal at her home we recounted that first Sunday dinner with fondness.

The whole experience brought our relationship with Mrs. Betty Jones into quite an honest and authentic place.   Her efforts and her desires to serve people with grace and kindness and make every visitor at home were engrained in my heart and mind.  I have never met another like her, and I don’t suppose I ever will.

For a wedding gift,  Betty Jones sent me one of her cups and saucers from her best set of china.  How I will treasure that always as a reminder of what hospitality, servanthood and humor truly is.

Mrs. Jones went to be with Jesus a few days ago.   I’m so grateful for the hope of Heaven – for the knowledge that I will see her again and we will share in that same sweet laughter together.