This past weekend I experienced a collision. Two separate occasions collided to create in me a profound awareness. I am not certain I can do it justice here with my feeble words, but I hope you will glimpse the amazing God who loves us within my story.
Friday, December 23, I received a call from a friend. She had a message from God the night before that she needed to find a recipient for her late husbands' wheelchair by Christmas. She told me the story of the search and discovery for just the right person to present the gift. It stirred in me a sense of God moving in a mighty way. I was so happy that she would finally be able to give away the wheelchair the next day accompanied by her grandson.
That night as my husband prayed over our meal I had the impression that we should ask my friend, Carol, if we could come along with her to give the gift. She was delighted to let us join her, and so our plans were made to visit the Russell Home for Atypical Children to present the wheelchair to Kenny.
Patrick and I had never been to the Russell Home. We were humbled by the gift that the home is for the families, community and residents. The Russell home is not a business. It survives with the generosity of donations alone.It is a light in the world.
Marie took us on a tour allowing us to see the home and meet the love givers who care for those who are so easily thrown away. It was there we heard the stories of people, like Kenny, who have found a family and are loved despite their inabilities to do much more than exist.
Later that night we attended our Christmas Eve service and heard our Pastor share a story that Steve Brown told about the ugliest car he had ever seen. The description made me a believer that it had to be the ugliest car ever. But on that car was a bumper sticker that read, "This is not an abandoned car." As I wrote it down in my notes, I was immediately drawn back to the Russell Home. I remembered those tiny twisted bodies and the uncertain eyes searching for understanding. I was certain God spoke to me saying, "These are NOT abandoned!" Yes, there was an emphasis on the "NOT." God had not abandoned those who would be considered the most ugly in our world.
I also realized that God has a purpose for these castaways. Could it be that they are a visual for us to see what our sin against God has done to our world? They carry a heavy burden, but God has not abandoned them! He is with them. He cares. He saves.
Father, Your children who suffer are never far from Your touch. I give You thanks for letting me see Your precious loved ones. Thank You for letting me see how MY sin against You has made our world so far from Your perfect plan. Help me to be their voice and to help them where I can! Thank You for Those who work at the Russell Home. Bless their open hearts and open our hearts to help them to continue their family.
P.S. The Russell Home needs a new facility. In 2012 they are asking each person who will to donate $20.12 to help them build a home. Google their name and help them if you can! Thank You!
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Stranger in a Strange Land
There are moments when, though I am surrounded by the familiar, I feel as if I am a stranger. I have the sense that I am not where I should be. I don't belong. I am out of place, not at ease. I wonder if others have the same feeling sometimes. What is the cause?
Could it be that because we live in a fallen world we long for our paradise? Our garden of Eden? We were meant to live in a perfect world in complete communion with God, but we don't. so, are my feelings of strangeness a result of that and a subtle calling to come home?
The coming home will take a journey. We must all chose one path that will take us home. There is only one way! We can only go to our proper place of belonging if we begin the walk in which Jesus will lead us. It is adventurous, dangerous and wonderful! The cross is our beginning, but our daily death to the things of this strange sinful world is the step by step progression toward home. I am a prodigal coming home. I am a stranger in a strange land.
Father, You are the builder of my home. You are the place where I belong. You are where my heart is. I can trust You to bring me home safely and to guide me every step I take.
Could it be that because we live in a fallen world we long for our paradise? Our garden of Eden? We were meant to live in a perfect world in complete communion with God, but we don't. so, are my feelings of strangeness a result of that and a subtle calling to come home?
The coming home will take a journey. We must all chose one path that will take us home. There is only one way! We can only go to our proper place of belonging if we begin the walk in which Jesus will lead us. It is adventurous, dangerous and wonderful! The cross is our beginning, but our daily death to the things of this strange sinful world is the step by step progression toward home. I am a prodigal coming home. I am a stranger in a strange land.
Father, You are the builder of my home. You are the place where I belong. You are where my heart is. I can trust You to bring me home safely and to guide me every step I take.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Fly Away Home
When children leave home there is much excitement. The change for them is a gigantic step of independence and maturity. I know from experience that at the same time it is also a leap of faith for parents.
Letting go of the child into the adult world is not easy. In fact it takes much courage and strength to let go. Parents have provided, protected, pacified and punished in an effort to make the day of flying away from the nest a successful one for the child. But as their young one drops over the edge of the nest and before the first flutter of their wings catch the wind, a parent forgets to breathe, and remembers every mistake they made. The well taught fledgling seems to never look back.
Children find the place they will call home. It is no longer where the parents live. Home is their own place of comfort and security. Home is a place Mom and Dad visit. It is a place where they can make mistakes and learn to live life fully in charge, making choices and reaping the harvest, good or bad.
Parents know the importance of letting their children fly away home and so they do, with tears. There is a future hope that parent and child will one day share an eternal home. With that hope there is joy. It is never a mistake to give your child wings that leads them to the home that Jesus is preparing for us. In that truth a parent can rejoice!
Little one, with tears I let go, so you can fly away to a place where you can learn who you are and who God can be in your life. Fly away home!
Letting go of the child into the adult world is not easy. In fact it takes much courage and strength to let go. Parents have provided, protected, pacified and punished in an effort to make the day of flying away from the nest a successful one for the child. But as their young one drops over the edge of the nest and before the first flutter of their wings catch the wind, a parent forgets to breathe, and remembers every mistake they made. The well taught fledgling seems to never look back.
Children find the place they will call home. It is no longer where the parents live. Home is their own place of comfort and security. Home is a place Mom and Dad visit. It is a place where they can make mistakes and learn to live life fully in charge, making choices and reaping the harvest, good or bad.
Parents know the importance of letting their children fly away home and so they do, with tears. There is a future hope that parent and child will one day share an eternal home. With that hope there is joy. It is never a mistake to give your child wings that leads them to the home that Jesus is preparing for us. In that truth a parent can rejoice!
Little one, with tears I let go, so you can fly away to a place where you can learn who you are and who God can be in your life. Fly away home!
Saturday, June 14, 2008
My Dad
Since tomorrow is Fathers' Day I thought I'd write about my Dad. I haven't written about him since he passed away 11 years ago. At that time I wrote a eulogy for him but I was unable to return for his funeral so I just sent it for the family to read.
It is always nice to think about someone you love, even if you miss them. I think that the sweet memories of my Dad help me to remember the blessing of having him in my life. No, he wasn't perfect. He failed me in many ways. But, then there were those special times that he poured a little bit into my life that remains a part of me.
He was an artist at heart. He and mom together brought color and visual delights into our home. Most were of the crafty sort that brought a homey "touch me " feel to the world of visual pleasures. Dad liked to draw, paint and build. My most precious memories involve his window and floor paintings. He told me once that he had brought home a string of old Christmas lights he had found in the dump near his childhood home so that he could decorate his Christmas tree. What sort of man does that if he is not an artist at heart?
Dad was also a teacher. I don't mean the school type of teacher but a teacher of practical and interesting tidbits. He taught me about cars, baseball, and puzzles. He would peruse the encyclopedia to find an article and then he would call us over to read to us. To this day I love to read to my family about the things I learn. Dad and mom taught all of us to love learning and that it is a lifelong adventure.
If I could talk to Dad again I don't think I would talk about the weather, though he loved to do that. I think I would prefer asking him questions about his life, his beliefs, his lost dreams and lost loves. I would want to listen to his voice and hear him again tell me to "Come home!"
I guess the things I loved the most about my Dad are the things I saw in him that are so like my Heavenly Father. He, too, is an artist who surprises me with sky paintings and earthy sculptures full of color and shape. God teaches me about so many things in the world and about people and especially about myself. And I know that someday My waiting Fathers will call me home to be with them.
Fathers' Day is a Day to celebrate the wise and good blessing of the Men who have made a difference in our lives. Whoever they may be, grandfathers, fathers, uncles or friends, they, and God deserve our thanks!
Thanks Daddy! Thank You, Lord!
It is always nice to think about someone you love, even if you miss them. I think that the sweet memories of my Dad help me to remember the blessing of having him in my life. No, he wasn't perfect. He failed me in many ways. But, then there were those special times that he poured a little bit into my life that remains a part of me.
He was an artist at heart. He and mom together brought color and visual delights into our home. Most were of the crafty sort that brought a homey "touch me " feel to the world of visual pleasures. Dad liked to draw, paint and build. My most precious memories involve his window and floor paintings. He told me once that he had brought home a string of old Christmas lights he had found in the dump near his childhood home so that he could decorate his Christmas tree. What sort of man does that if he is not an artist at heart?
Dad was also a teacher. I don't mean the school type of teacher but a teacher of practical and interesting tidbits. He taught me about cars, baseball, and puzzles. He would peruse the encyclopedia to find an article and then he would call us over to read to us. To this day I love to read to my family about the things I learn. Dad and mom taught all of us to love learning and that it is a lifelong adventure.
If I could talk to Dad again I don't think I would talk about the weather, though he loved to do that. I think I would prefer asking him questions about his life, his beliefs, his lost dreams and lost loves. I would want to listen to his voice and hear him again tell me to "Come home!"
I guess the things I loved the most about my Dad are the things I saw in him that are so like my Heavenly Father. He, too, is an artist who surprises me with sky paintings and earthy sculptures full of color and shape. God teaches me about so many things in the world and about people and especially about myself. And I know that someday My waiting Fathers will call me home to be with them.
Fathers' Day is a Day to celebrate the wise and good blessing of the Men who have made a difference in our lives. Whoever they may be, grandfathers, fathers, uncles or friends, they, and God deserve our thanks!
Thanks Daddy! Thank You, Lord!
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