09.01.19 Please, please, please read this one, take your time and think

When I read this story, written by someone else who is unknown, it brought back so many memories of my own childhood and teen years. Even the years that Roy and I were raising our two sons. Life wasn’t all sunshine and roses back then but it was so very different than what I see in many families these days. My heart grows sad when seeing how far families and some of our country have grown away from the life we enjoyed growing up.

I was raised during a time when most everyone treated each other with respect. We didn’t eat a lot of fast food because it was considered a treat, and not a basic food group. We drank Kool-Aid or iced Tea made from water that came from our kitchen tap. We ate bologna sandwiches and peanut butter sandwiches, but mostly we ate homemade meals consisting of meat, potatoes, beans, & vegetables.

We ate breakfast at the table before going to school.

We had no cable TV or remote control, Dad used Me as the remote. We had just a few channels that you had to manually turn a large knob on the TV to switch channels, no microwave, or cell phones. and no computers. We watched TV as a family. Gunsmoke, Gilligan’s Island, Wonderful World of Disney, Bonanza, Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, Little House on the Prairie and Love Boat.

After school, we came home and did homework and watched the Brady Bunch, did some chores and watched some cartoons, American Bandstand on Saturday morning, or listened to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 on the radio.

Our fun was finishing chores and dinner so we could go outside to go to play with the neighborhood kids. We were inside at dark for bath and bedtime!

If we were bad in school, you got in trouble first there. When we got home, we got in trouble again (because your parents already knew). Paddling was allowed in school and you behaved yourself or else.

We LEARNED FROM our parents and grandparents instead of disrespecting them and treating them as if they knew nothing. What they said was the gospel. We were told to go play and we stayed out of our parent’s hair as we were told that children should be seen and not heard.

If someone had a fight, that’s what it was – a fistfight and you were back to being friends a few days later and the bullying pretty much ceased. Kids that were around guns were taught how to properly use them and to respect them and never thought of taking a life.

We ate around the dinner table and talked to each other as a family unit. We said the Pledge of Allegiance, stood for the National Anthem and we listened to our teachers.

We watched what we said around our elders because we knew If we DISRESPECTED any grown-up we would get our butts whipped. It wasn’t called abuse, it was called discipline!

We held open doors, carried groceries and gave up our seat without being asked. “Please, Thank you, Yes M’am and Yes, Sir” were part of our daily vocabulary!

We didn’t hear curse words on the radio in songs or TV, and if you cursed and got caught you had a bar of soap stuck in your mouth and had to stand in the corner for quite some time.

We grew up with good, God-loving families.

Life seemed easier with less stress when we were kids. It seems that we complicate life when we become adults.

Thank You to our parents for showing us how to adapt to change and take responsibility seriously.

Wouldn’t it be nice if it were possible to get back to this way of life? If this brought back cherished memories you are Blesssed!

Can I get an Amen? Getting back to these things with our families and friend can be part of what “Making American Great Again” is about.

Ya’ll have a Blessed Week!

 

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08.23.19 A Quiet Thought, Chemistry and Physics by Rev. Bob Adams

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God alone is maker of the chemistry and physics of this universe, and thus of all life.

Mass has gravity because God created that law. It didn’t just happen.

Trees draw water from their tiny root fibers up to the little leaf on the top branch because God created the physics that cause that drawing upward.

The mysterious energy of light exist because God called it forth.

God’s breath is behind the chemical impulses that cause the tiny ant and the great elephant to move, to breath, to exist.

Learned people may tell us what those chemical transactions are, but they cannot tell us WHY they are.

That a periodic table of elements exist is true, but why does it exist?

The nerve endings in my body carry tiny electrical currents at unimaginable speeds and in untold numbers.

Because of these impulses I move and sit and stand and see and cry and speak and constantly rebuild my body.

With each passing day studious scientist describe more of these impulses and chemical reactions that are you and me.

Sometimes they conclude that is what we are . . . elements and chemistry.

In this conclusion they stop short and fail to ask: why are these elements me and why do these chemical laws exist?

Everything I see, and the fact that I see, and the fact that I am – all this shouts the glory and continuing presence of God who is beyond our highest thoughts.

And He knows us and loves us, actually loves us.

Let us worship Him!

Thank you Rev. Bob Adams for another thought provoking message.

 

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08.07.19 The Peanut Butter Story, Author Unknown

 

This is a true story. It is a story of God and His Faithfulness in ALL things.

And now – THE PEANUT BUTTER STORY

During a season of my life when I was a single mother and struggling financially, one of my daughters came and asked what might seem like a simple request. She said, “It’s been a while since we’ve had any peanut butter. Could we get some?” I told her I’d see what I could do about that and she went off to bed.

Well, I remember laying on the couch and crying like a baby because I knew there was no money to buy peanut butter with. I had a good old fashioned pity party. I cried out to God and told Him how unfair it was that my children had to do without such a simple request over circumstances that were not their fault. I told Him I felt ashamed to question Him and complain when we certainly had not gone hungry. Many friends and church family had been faithful to help us. God had shown His faithfulness time and time again.

I told Him it surely would be nice to be able to go to the store and get not only our needs but also a few “wants”, like peanut butter! I cried myself to sleep feeling like a failure as a mother. (The peanut butter was just the straw that pushed me over the edge of much financial stress)

The next morning I got up to go run the Meals on Wheels route that I worked that summer. I took one of the girls with me every day so I would have some special time with the daughter who went for that day. The same one went with me that day who had asked about the peanut butter.

We got to one of the houses and the sweet little lady who lived there asked if I could wait a minute after we had given her the meal. She went into her house and came back with a can in her hands. She then preceded to say “I went yesterday to get my commodities and they had this can of peanut butter in my box. Well, I don’t buy peanut butter because it gives me “the gas”. I love it but it sure doesn’t love me! Well, I kept thinking about this can of peanut butter in my cabinet last night and I got up and ate a spoon full. Let me tell you – that spoon full of peanut butter kept me up all night! When I got up this morning, I thought, I’ve got to get that stuff out of my house! Then I thought about you and your little girls coming by here every day. I don’t want to offend you by offering you an opened can with a spoon mark in it, but I figured kids all love peanut butter. Would you mind having this can of peanut butter?”

I’m sure she wondered why I was crying before she could even finish her question! Absolutely, we would love to have such a precious gift! In that moment it was more valuable than a can full of gold! Sure, a can of gold would have bought a house full of groceries, but not the lesson my children and I learned that day and that we have never forgotten.

God does hear our prayers, He hears our heart cries. He hears a little girl say “can we get some peanut butter” when there’s no money to buy it.

That little lady could have given us a loaf of bread or a bag of potatoes. But it would not have been the miracle that God wanted us to have. It would have been appreciated but not something that I would remember so vividly 20 years later.

My God is an awesome God and He cares about me personally. He cares about you too. Bring your needs and your concerns to Him. He will show you how big, and loving, and able He is.

I’ve just always felt bad that the poor little lady had “the gas” all night to get our miracle to us!

  • Author Unknown

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07.16.19 Grandpa’s Hands

My grandfathers both died before I was born so I didn’t know either of them.  However, my sons were blessed to have one of their grandfather, Vivian Traylor, as part of their lives when they were young men. He was such a wise, gentle, Godly man.  When reading this I could imagine him sitting with one of my sons and having this conversation.  How I wish we had more time with him but God was ready for him to go home.  We’ll see him again one day and what a beautiful day that will be!
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Grandpa’s Hands

Grandpa, some ninety plus years old, sat feebly and crooked on the patio bench. He didn’t move and just sat there with his head down, staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him, he didn’t acknowledge my presence.

The longer I sat, I wondered if he was okay. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him, but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked, “Are you okay, Grandpa?”

He raised his head and looked at me and smiled.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said in a clear strong voice. “Thank you for asking,”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, Grandpa,” I explained to him, “But you were just sitting here staring at your hands, and I wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”

“Have you ever looked at your hands?” he asked in his shaking voice, . . . “I mean really looked at your hands?”

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands, as I tried to figure out the point he was trying to make.

Grandpa smiled and related this story to me:

“Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have and how they have served you well throughout your years. My hands, though wrinkled, shriveled, and weak, have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out to grab and embrace life’s opportunities and adversities.

They braced and caught me when as a toddler when I had continued to fall upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and pulled clothes over my back. As a child, my mother had taught me to fold these hands in prayer.

They tied my first shoes when I was young and pulled on my boots when I found my first job. Then later they held my rifle while they wiped my tears away when I left your grandmother to go off to war to defend our country.

They have been dirty, scraped raw, swollen, and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. With one finger decorated with a wedding band, they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.

They wrote the letters home and walked your mother down the isle. And they trembled and shook when I had to buried my parents and later your grandmother. Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend’s leg.

They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook their fingers in a fist when some people called me an extremist for flying the American flag on my home. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, and dried and raw.

And to this day when not much of anything else of me really works well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I’ve been and the ruggedness of the life I’ve had to live.

But more importantly, it will be these hands that God will reach out to and take when He soon leads me home. And with these hands, He will lift me to His side, and there I will use these hands to touch the face of His son.”

Since hearing his words, I have never looked at my hands the same way again. But I remember when God later reached out and took my grandpa’s hands and led him home.

Now when my hands are hurt or sore, or when I stroke the face of my children and wife, I think of grandpa’s words of gentle, loving wisdom to take nothing for granted . . . even these hands.

Author Unknown

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06.19.19 Rejoice with Joy, by Susan Adams Moffett

As Tim preached yesterday, he brought us to this verse and sat there a moment.

rejoice with joy
inexpressible joy
glory-filled joy

So I left thinking…how do we do that?
How do we express and rejoice and share something so real and still so gloriously inexpressible?
Even when it’s scary.
Even when it’s unknown.
Even when it’s hard.
Even when it’s uphill.
Even when it’s lonely.

Remember as kids, on a swing, we would just lean back and kick high and say “Wheeee!”…

We didn’t analyze, we didn’t do mathematical calculations, we didn’t explain how our hearts felt or work through what our minds were thinking. We didn’t work at finding just the right words to declare and exclaim.

We just kicked back our heads and declared, “Wheeeee!”
It came bubbling out of us.

Rejoice
Joy
Inexpressible
Glorious

So today, you may need to pump your feet a bit harder, fling your head back a bit more and shout it out a bit louder.
Go ahead.
Wheeeee!
Reposted with permission from Susan Adams Moffett

05.30.19 Faith = Believing that God’s Word is True. ALL of it! by Deborah Thompson

Thoughts on my Devotion this morning…

People let me down.

I let myself down.

Promises are made, but not kept.

Words are given but then broken.

It’s impossible to have real faith in others. It’s also impossible to have real faith in myself.

How many times have I said, “I’m going to <insert intention here>”, and then didn’t follow up? This knowledge can really destroy my ability to have faith, period.

BUT GOD…

God never asked me to have faith in others. He never asked me to have faith in myself. He asked me to have faith in Him.

He has NEVER lied, let me down, failed to fulfill His promises, spoke a word and then broke it. Never. He has ALWAYS been faithful to His word. Always.

When I read Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

I have to remember that I must have faith in God, that He is my only source, He is the One who is the substance of things hoped for, He is the One who is the evidence of things not seen.

THAT is true faith. It all goes back to relationship, to my belief that God has all the answers, has made a way, and WILL work all things for my good, BECAUSE.. He said He would.

Faith = Believing that God’s word is true. ALL of it.

by Deborah Thompson

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05.19.19 It’s Been One of those Weeks, by Susan Adams Moffett

It’s been one of those weeks.

And it’s only Wednesday.

Hard thing after hard thing after hard thing keeps pouring into our text messages and news feeds and phone calls.

So how do we pray? How do we lift each person and request to our Heavenly Father that knows and sees all?

Boldly. Because He says we can.

Simply. Because He is faithful.

Honestly. Because He already knows.

Fully. Because we can’t fix any of it.

But some days, in some moments, the words don’t come. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Just sit. And allow the Holy Spirit inside of you to speak and commune and intercede and stand and fight and witness and pray on your behalf.

He will. He does.

by Susan Adams Moffett, reposted with her permission

05.02.19 The Lesson of the Burnt Biscuits

If you’re anything like me, the family dinner table played a huge part in your childhood and to our own family dinner time with our sons..

Whether we were just sharing funny or heartwarming stories about the day’s activities or playing with the family dog dinner was an extra special time to enjoy each other’s company. Gosh, I miss those times with our two sons around the dinner table.

And when I saw how this father taught his children an extremely valuable lesson over their dinner meal, I had to pass it along.

This touching story has been passed around the internet for years, with its initial writer still unknown. The story follows one family and the way they handle a tired mother’s batch of burned biscuits.

We all know how hard moms work, and the story below speaks to a larger lesson of compassion that folks of all ages can get behind. And while these aren’t my words, they are words that deeply resonate with me.

This heartwarming story has been inspiring people around the world for years:

When I was a kid, my Mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work.

On that evening so long ago, my Mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed!”

All my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my Mom and ask me how my day was at school.

I don’t remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that ugly burned biscuit…

He ate every bite of that thing — never made a face nor uttered a word about it!

When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my Mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits.

And I’ll never forget what he said, “Honey, I love burned biscuits every now and then.”

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned.

He wrapped me in his arms and said, “Your Mom put in a hard day at work today and she’s really tired. And besides — a little burned biscuit never hurt anyone!’”

As I’ve grown older, I’ve thought about that many times. Life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people.

I’m not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else.

But what I’ve learned over the years is that learning to accept each other’s faults, and choosing to celebrate each other’s differences, is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.

And that’s my prayer for you today… That you will learn to take the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your life and lay them at the feet of God.

Because in the end, He’s the only One who will be able to give you a relationship where a burnt biscuit isn’t a deal breaker!

We could extend this to any relationship. In fact, understanding is the base of any relationship, be it a husband-wife or parent-child or friendship!

As the saying goes, ‘Don’t put the key to your happiness in someone else’s pocket — keep it in your own.’”

So, please pass me a biscuit, and yes, the burned one will do just fine.

Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Life without God is like an unsharpened pencil: it has no point.

Anonymous

Ya’ll have a Blessed Weekend – Yes It Is Almost Here!!