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21st of January

Fall Fresh


Crystal white fell softly after dark.  Flakes by the millions, not one like another, accumulated on the flagstone path meandering through the perennial garden where plants are sleeping the winter away.

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Some kind of peace comes over me during a fresh falling . . .

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Next morning—all white—all pure, all untracked by human.

Snow’s still falling.

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Only a rabbit has made its way across the front lawn.

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And the dog with the ever-active nose takes off in search of a hopeful breakfast.  She chased that running rabbit into the hole in our log home porch and I was darn-near afraid she’d get her whole body through and then not be able to get out and we’d have to rip a bigger hole to save our dog, most probably a pound or two fatter with the fresh rabbit I couldn’t save.

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How often I feel chased by the all that wishes to kill me—to consume me—to snuff all the breath right out of me!

But isn’t that life?

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Don’t we all have to deal with life and death and breath on a daily basis?

Letting her be, I walk to the barn, camera around my neck—my usual morning routine.

There’s too much beauty to miss in our days here—too much glory not to document in some fashion—too much praising the Lord without speaking a word sometimes.  Funny, how you can be screaming praise on the inside and be completely silent, not wanting to break the holy peace of the present in the cathedral of His creation.

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So I feed the horses as usual.  They watch me as I photograph.

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Whole bodies—beautiful.

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Contour lines of ears . . .

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The miracle blue of eyes . . .

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Suddenly, they look holy to me.  Like I might just get to meet them again in heaven and they won’t be old and creaky-in-the-legs-with-arthritis like now, twenty years and counting—two of the four, with another twenty next year and the other, twelve.

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Who knows how long they’ll last?

I’m getting old too.

I am creaky.

Some of my parts don’t work as well as they used to.

I ponder how the past 17 years have worn me thin to the point where I thought surely I might die.  And yet, my life and all my days are determined by Him who made me.  He is, and has been, and always will be my strength—my life.

Even now, when I’m tired and my flesh feels like giving up, His spirit cheers me on.  He provides youth—even the young I have mentored for years, encouraging me, praying for me—those not birthed from my own womb yet closer in spirit than flesh can produce—the adopted—those in our forever family and those beyond—my “triplets”.

Amanda.  Abby.  Hanna.

I am blessed among women.

I’ll be 56 in a few months.

My mother died at 65.

Massive heart attack, two weeks before she was going to move from Ohio to a home down the road from us.

I think about that, about her, about God taking her then . . .

Will I be like my mom and her parents who all died younger than most?  Or will I be like my dad and his parents who all lived well into their eighties?  God only knows.

But sometimes I wonder . . .

The God who planned all the days of our lives from the beginning, how many did He plan for me?

Will I die of a fatal disease this year?

Will I get no fatal disease and just die of old age—whatever “old” means to God?

Will I be murdered or die in some tragic accident?

Point is, none of us know how long we have.

None of us know anything about the next moment.

The world could explode . . .

So . . .

How then shall we live?

I know.

His holy word—His inerrant word—that WORD I stake my temporal and eternal life on—He tells me . . .

Remain.

Remain in me.

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John 15:4

“Remain in me, and I will remain in you.  No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

So what does that mean?

It means staying put, yielding, receiving.  It means not cutting ourselves off.  It means remaining WITH him, no matter what—remaining IN him—no matter what.

God!

There’s so much I don’t get about life—about MY life!  But what I do know is this—YOU alone are GOD and you LOVE me—and all of US—and you want only what’s BEST for me—for all of us!

So FILL me FRESH with YOU!

Fill us fresh, Jesus!

Fall on me, LORD!

Fall on us fresh, Jesus!

Fall fresh on this soul who wanders and wonders and shakes.  Fall fresh on me—all of YOU!  Help me—US—this day, to TRUST you and the way you are working in my life—OUR lives—the way you are working in the lives we love and pray for.

Oh Lord!  You alone are GOD!  Not me.  Not her.  Not him.  Not this.  Not that.

You.

The One and Only GOD of the universe who created the heavens and the earth and all within and . . .

little me . . .

little him . . .

little her . . .

the crowns of your creation . . .

You created all the “little me” humans . . .

. . . and you LOVE US WITH A BIG AND EVERLASTING LOVE!

Oh Lord, our God—our loving FATHER!

Help us hear!

Help us see!

Help us believe . . .

That we are YOURS . . .

To HAVE and to HOLD . . .

From this day forward . . .

Help us know, without doubting, that even DEATH will not PART US.

And so it shall be . . .

 

Spirit of the living God,

Fall fresh on me.

Spirit of the living God,

Fall fresh on me.

Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.

Spirit of the living God,

Fall fresh on me.

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Welcome to True Life With God!

Come stroll the trails with me on our 44 acre Midwest horse farm where I seek God in the ordinary and always find Him--the Extraordinary--wooing, teaching, wowing me with Himself. Thanks for visiting. I hope you will be blessed!

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