2008
May
Spring time brings New Life
I was thinking about spring time and how it relates to our Christian life. In the spring new life begins, springs start flowing out of the rocks down through the mountains and out to the valleys, everything is fresh and new. This is how God wants us to be as Christians to the world, new and fresh, a spring of living water.
In John 4, it is talking about the woman at the well, and we have all read the story, but something caught my attention. She did not know what or who was before her; this was the Son of God standing before her offering her life, fresh water. We as Christians forget what we are doing and what we have been called to do as a vessel of God; we are to show life to the world one person at a time.
John chp7 refers to the Living water as “Eternal life”, how is the world going to know if we do not show them first and live it before them, so we can share with them the Love of God and the way to have Eternal Life?
This study took me back to the old testament where the priest had to do certain things before coming to the people, they had to be prepared to go before the King of Kings, “God Almighty,” they had to wash and prepare their minds as well as their bodies; yes we are living under Grace and we all have to be very thankful for this, but walk with me here for a moment. If we are the priesthood of the Almighty King, we need to be sure that we are all we can be when we go out and minister to the world. Isaiah 55 tells us to “Come all you who are thirsty, come at no cost." Psalm 42 talks about how the "deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you oh God." Are we truly looking for God? Psalm 36:7-9, talks bout “How Priceless is your unfailing love, both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings," vs 9 says “ for with you is a fountain of Life “ and in Jeremiah, God is called the Spring of Living Water. God’s word is Living Water, it is a Fresh Well, and He is New Life. Just as we see all the new life beginning each spring, the flowers blooming, the trees give new shade and the grass turns the lushest color of green. Friends, God is the main stream, and we are all one little spring flowing through out this land. The Word tells us “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks”. If we are drinking out of the spring waters, the freshness of God is going to flow out of us.
Let us have the spring of New Life in our steps and the water of the spirit flowing out of our month. Let us show God’s Love; We are all in this together and let us show the world that Southern Gospel Music Fans and Artist are on fire for the Lord God Almighty and we are overflowing with the springs of Living Water, let us be a vessel of Honor full of the Living Water.
God Bless you all and I pray that you’ll have a new spring in your step as the joy of the Lord spills out of your heart onto everyone you come into contact with.
Blessings,
Bev McCann
http://www.bevmccann.com
Reflections - May 08
My mother is one of the last generation of fortunate wives…those who could tend to the business of their home and family. She knew where her children were, and the five of us took comfort in knowing where she was … at home.
Mom did not take her role lightly. She taught us from the scriptures every single day, and I can still remember her praying, calling our names one by one and asking God to protect us, guide us, and make us the people he would have us be.
Our home was the center of everything. We ate at home….always. Mom’s red and white checked tablecloth covered the chipped paint on our old kitchen table and I remember thinking how beautiful it was. I can still hear the screen door snap as I came in from school to find mom in the kitchen making a batch of “cherry dumplins” or canning those big, beautiful tomatoes. She’d wipe her hands on her apron, give me a hug and ask how I did in school that day. Then she’d hum her way through “fixin’ supper”…sometimes “The Old Rugged Cross”, sometimes “Victory in Jesus”.
She’d visit over the picket fence with Mrs. Hampsey or Mrs. Shanks who were also home with their children and then excuse herself to check on the pot of beans simmering on the stove.
Sometimes I’d come home to find her hanging clothes out on the line or “sprinkling down” the ironing on the kitchen table with an old soda bottle outfitted with a sprinkler nozzle, and I couldn’t wait to grow up to do those same things.
My mother was and still is, even at 94, a beautiful lady and she always dressed like one. Mom had a pair of 1940’s navy blue platform shoes that had tall chunky heels and a peek toe and a “lunch box” type purse to match. I loved it when she wore them to church along with her veiled hat and her belted peplum suit. Right then and there I knew what I wanted out of life….I wanted to be my mother. I wanted to wear those hats and gloves and those tailored suits she wore and I wanted to do with my life what she had done. I wanted to watch my kids grow up and be there for them. I wanted her life. But that’s not what I got.
By the time I became an adult, the world had changed. Time had marched on and those things I grew up wanting no longer existed. The Ozzie and Harriett/ June Cleaver world …my mother’s world… that I so desperately needed for myself had disappeared. Gloves and hats had been replaced with tie-dyed T-shirts and ragged jeans. Women suddenly knew more about fixing typewriters than turkeys. They were pumping gas instead of potting plants. The life I dreamed of was just that…a distant dream. I was disoriented and I felt cheated and bitter.
I married alright, but the economy saw to it that I couldn’t stay home. I had children that I loved, but could spend very little time with because of my work schedule. Finally, divorce put an unceremonious end to a bad marriage and there I was again…searching.
Now a divorced mom, I had no hope of being able to stay home. My mother, bless her heart, took care of the kids while I worked and each day they told me of their day’s adventures, their school field trip that I missed or the outing taken with grandma and grandpa that I couldn’t attend. She helped them with their homework, gave them their baths, read them Bible stories and tucked them into bed as I went back to work.
For years I sat through Mother’s Day service after Mother’s Day service feeling ill at ease, knowing full well that I was not the kind of mother that would be honored that day. Year after year the pastor would present a beautiful bouquet to the oldest mother, the youngest mother, the mother with the most children, the mother with the most children present in church that day, the mother of an adopted child, the mother with foster children in her care, etc. etc., until finally the biggie…Mother of the Year.
I was never sure exactly what criteria entered into the decision making process of choosing the various recipients, but there was one thing they nearly always had in common…they were married, fulltime, stay-at-home, non-career moms. Their husbands supported them and they were free to care for their children, keep up with the house work, the laundry, and have meals on the table at 5:00. These were the kind of ladies who could be available during the day to help make peanut brittle for the church fundraiser, be volunteers for Vacation Bible School or shop with the pastor’s wife.
It was painful. Not that the ladies chosen were undeserving. To the contrary, they were some of the finest ladies I’ve ever known, my own mother among them. There was just so much guilt associated with being the kind of mother I was forced to be and so much regret that I had not made better choices. I finally decided I didn’t have to put myself through that anymore, so I quit going to church on Mother’s Day.
Enough years have gone by now that I’ve come to grips with the fact that I probably did the only thing I could do. I wasn’t raised to get on the welfare rolls, so working was the only viable option. I’m married to a wonderful Christian man now who often tells me what a good job I did with my kids. Even my children who are approaching thirty tell me “You did good.” Still….my heart aches for the things I missed. And sometimes when flipping through old photographs I so much miss that little boy with the Buster Brown haircut and the golden-haired girl with the funny little gap between her front teeth.
I’m positive that I’m not the only mom in this world who’s felt less of a mother because she worked her kids’ childhood away and I sincerely hope that one of Heaven’s joys will be the opportunity to recapture some of the time lost. The Lord does say He will restore the years that the locust has eaten.
Before I close, I would just like to take this opportunity to give a verbal “bouquet” to all those mothers out there who may never be recognized for their efforts or whose circumstances have forced them into difficult financial decisions. A dozen red roses to the mother who stands goggled and gloved day after day on the assembly line… to the mother whose head throbs and whose nerves are raw from a grueling day in a stressful office…to the mother whose hands crack and bleed from scrubbing hospital floors…to the mother whose arms feel like lead and whose shoulders ache from hours of perms and comb-outs…to the mother who’s disappointed with herself and her life…to the mother who’s done the very best she can do and no one seems to notice….Happy Mother’s Day. You ARE a real mom, and come to think of it, maybe I am too.
Janice Crow
Don’t Listen To The Words, Just Listen To The Way I Sing It
Gus and I both write music and every now and then when we've all been on the bus one day longer than we should be, we will begin to rewrite some familiar gospel songs with some pretty funny lyrics. I guess when your day job is music and then your weekend job is more music you just have to have a release at times.
What makes these rewrites so funny is that we are both approached daily by people who want us to hear their music. Every now and then we hear some great songs. More times than that we hear songs that are average. But every now and then when God proves to us that HE has a sense of humor, we get some that are absolutely hilarious. One in particular that comes to mind was when I was hired to go through a publishing catalog to sort out the good, the bad and the ugly songs. I pulled up a certain group of songs by a writer. I was listening and made it through the first verse and chorus when the second verse started. The demo singer (who was the writer) began singing with all the emotion in the world about how Paul and Silus were thrown into the fiery furnace but there wasn't 2 men in the fire, but three including the Holy Spirit. If you don't find the humor in that, then you, like the writer, have been in church and learned just enough about the Bible to be dangerous!
So, in disbelief, I went back listened to it again. Sure enough, somebody was half asleep in church when they were inspired to write that little diddy. What is even funnier or more sad, depending on how you look at it, is that I have played that song for "professionals" in our industry and they make it all the way through the song and don't even catch the scriptural inaccuracies. "Don't listen to the words, just listen to the way I sing it"!
LeFevre Quartet
http://www.lefevrequartet.com/
Trusting God
Isn't it amazing when we speak not a word, God hears our hearts cry? When we struggle to find words to pray, He hears. Even when it seems our mouth becomes paralyzed to the slightest little whim, our God knows and feels our sorrow. Oh, praise His holy name!
I stand in awe of the many times throughout my walk with Him that I have witnessed miracles and wonders in my life. Every time God moves in my life it amazes me. There is no one in this world who can steal away my faith in Jesus Christ! No one!
The past few years I have learned more about myself than I've ever known. I have come to a complete understanding of exactly where my strength comes from. I humble myself in saying that I am absolutely worthless without the grace of God in my life. I can do nothing without Jesus directing my steps. Every morning God amazes me with new mercy and He continually showers my life with blessings that I am so unworthy of. And on top of all that He still takes the time to attend unto my every whisper. This is why I choose to trust Him.
Whenever I am in need God has blessed me through others. God has always made a way when there seemed to be no way. I know there is nothing I can keep from Him. He sees all and knows all. God is still God.
Unfortunately too many of us think God is too busy to care ... or we think we can take care of things ourselves. I'm telling you from the bottom of my heart, if the enemy is beating you down and stealing your joy, give it to God. Trust Him!
Romans 12:19 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, *Vengeance* *is* *mine*; I will repay, saith the Lord. ~ With a promise like this, why would you not trust Him?
Are you bottling up something in your heart that you are holding onto? God already hears ... let Him help you! Jesus will always answer.
*Psalm 46:1* God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
*Many Blessin's,
Sharron Kay *
http://www.sharronkayking.com
"Life may not be the party we hoped for but while we're here we may as well dance!"
Rev 12:11 And they overcame him by the blood of the lamb, and by the word of their testimony;
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