Today looks different. It feels different. I got up at the usual time, went through my usual morning routine but everything seems so still and silent. It's that feeling you get when you realize....another loved one has gone home.
One of my aunts went home to be with the Lord recently. It's been a while since I seen her last, yet, when I heard of her home-going, I felt the void. Childhood memories of visiting her and my uncle on their farm came flooding back. I loved visiting the farm! My two cousins, aunt and uncle would take my brothers, sister and I around the various animal pens. We'd marvel at how big, fat ....and muddy.....the pigs were! We'd watch and giggle as these over sized "Wilburs" from Charlotte's Web grunted and buried their pink noses in the mud in search of the perfect corn cob. Next, came the cows with their glassy, google-eyed stare, swishing their tails shooing away flies and... good grief.... that endless chewing! On our tours, my cousins would patiently answer all of our city slicker questions. Like, why do cows look so dumb? Do pigs bite? Do they have names? Why do they stink so bad? To us, they knew everything and we were in awe of their endless farm knowledge! The running, cackling chickens were next. They weren't as fun.... we couldn't catch any! Last on our tour was always the best...the kittens. Every visit would end with my sister and I begging for one of those cute, little bundles of fur and it wasn't until I was married with a family of my own, on a grown-up visit to the farm, that I finally got to bring one home!
The family farm is feeling a void today. A sweet, soft-spoken, beautiful woman; daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt; has been called home. Handmade baby quilts, blankets and flower arrangements are just a few of the priceless treasures she left behind; gifts given by her in a quiet spirit voicing her love and care. As we mourn the loss of our loved one, we can take comfort that at this very moment a celebration takes place in heaven.....another child has come home!
Someday, when we are called home, it will be my aunt, along with all our other loved ones who went on ahead, to give us yet again another tour....a tour of heaven; walking the streets of gold, hand in hand, never to endure a painful seperation ever again! What a glorious day that will be when we are all home together in heaven with Jesus for our eternal family reunion!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
What do you see?
When you look at me, what do you see? I wonder......
A few years ago, Jesus took me by the hand, walked me over to a full length mirror and together we examined my reflection. Horrified, disgusted and ashamed, I wondered if I would ever "look" normal. Jesus answered my unspoken question with a warm smile. He squeezed my hand gently that was still tucked into His and with His head close to mine, He examined the damage. He looked into my eyes through the mirror and spoke directly to my heart, "I'm working on it."
In my first days of therapy I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Disorder, Agoraphobia and borderline OCD. Therapy was once to twice a week in the beginning stages because it was so severe. I was convinced I was dieing. No one could reassure me otherwise! I mourned the thought of leaving my family behind; my husband without a wife, my children motherless. I felt powerless to stop this raging tornado that tore its way to me. It's deafening roar filled my ears and the impending doom of its arrival plagued my thoughts every waking moment. My body was so tired! I was in constant discomfort from chest pains and stomach aches; I had a hard time breathing and felt as if I were being smothered to death by an invisible pillow. Those days, weeks and months of physical and emotional pain, were needed to get me in front of the mirror. Jesus was beginning the process of healing my infected, festering wounds that I had been so horrified of in the mirrors reflection.
In a session, my Christian Therapist/Pastor asked me to close my eyes and describe myself to him. What I felt I looked like. Barely able to sit still and with tears streaming down my face, I described to him the scene that I saw forming in front of my closed eyes. In the corner of a dark, bare room, a little girl sat silently with her head buried in her arms. The long, blond hair that spilled over her folded arms looked stringy, dirty and wet. She made me shiver. The only thing she wore was a filthy, white night gown and her feet were bare on the cold, dirty cement floor. Even though her face remained hidden in her arms, I knew exactly who she was. I couldn't go to her. Even though I knew all she wanted was to be seen, to be comforted and to be healed, I couldn't move. I just left her there, cold and alone huddled in the corner. Weeks went by, and I left her there untouched and undisturbed until one day, my therapist asked me to bring Jesus in. I watched in my minds eye as Jesus walked up to the little girl. Gently, he lifted her chin and a dirty face streaked with tears met His gaze. There they sat, just looking into each others eyes. The girl silently crying while Jesus lovingly wiped away her tears. I began to sob as Jesus knelt down and scooped the little girl up into His arms. He began to comfort her; gently rocking her back and forth while softly whispering comforting words and smoothing her dirty, greasy hair. It was then that I felt brave enough to enter the room. Jesus was there now and I didn't have to face her alone. Kneeling beside the two, Jesus held out his arm to me. It was time to accept and comfort this child. I had to acknowledge who she was, what she went through and what she needed. She needed me to see her and Jesus to heal her.
When I look at me? What do I see......I wonder........
In my last days of therapy, my therapist asked me to close my eyes and describe myself to him. What I felt I looked like. With my eyes closed tight, happy tears streaming down my face, I described a much different child. A beautiful snapshot of a glowing, rosy cheeked, happy, little girl appeared before me. Her once dirty, blond hair now shiny and clean was brushed back into two neat pigtails tied with pink ribbon. Jesus took care of her. I am comforted, happy and whole.
It's been several years since my years in therapy when I faced that little girl in the mirror. My sores and wounds have since healed and though many scars remain, I'm not ashamed of them. It's what my Saviour allowed and they are a part of me just as my blue eyes are. My scars make me special, unique and equipped with an armoury that not everyone gets to battle with. I hope to use these weapons for God's glory and to be able to help other people face their own reflections in the mirror.
When you look at others, what do you see? I wonder.....
Behind every smile there is a story. So often we hide our reflections; keeping our wounds and scars secretly hiden underneath robes of shame and fear. Please pray today that the Lord will help you see someone in need. One person can make such a big impact in a hurting persons life. We are told in Gal. 5:13 that we are to love and serve one another. We can do that so easily through a bright smile, a warm hug or an encouraging word. Sometimes, the best medicine is someone to cry with. Romans 12:15 wisely instructs the importance sharing tears with one another and to help carry the burden of grief. A card, a gift, a phone call, a smile or a hug....whatever way you are lead to minister.....listen to the Lord's call. Let the Lord use you to nurse someones wounds today.
A few years ago, Jesus took me by the hand, walked me over to a full length mirror and together we examined my reflection. Horrified, disgusted and ashamed, I wondered if I would ever "look" normal. Jesus answered my unspoken question with a warm smile. He squeezed my hand gently that was still tucked into His and with His head close to mine, He examined the damage. He looked into my eyes through the mirror and spoke directly to my heart, "I'm working on it."
In my first days of therapy I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Disorder, Agoraphobia and borderline OCD. Therapy was once to twice a week in the beginning stages because it was so severe. I was convinced I was dieing. No one could reassure me otherwise! I mourned the thought of leaving my family behind; my husband without a wife, my children motherless. I felt powerless to stop this raging tornado that tore its way to me. It's deafening roar filled my ears and the impending doom of its arrival plagued my thoughts every waking moment. My body was so tired! I was in constant discomfort from chest pains and stomach aches; I had a hard time breathing and felt as if I were being smothered to death by an invisible pillow. Those days, weeks and months of physical and emotional pain, were needed to get me in front of the mirror. Jesus was beginning the process of healing my infected, festering wounds that I had been so horrified of in the mirrors reflection.
In a session, my Christian Therapist/Pastor asked me to close my eyes and describe myself to him. What I felt I looked like. Barely able to sit still and with tears streaming down my face, I described to him the scene that I saw forming in front of my closed eyes. In the corner of a dark, bare room, a little girl sat silently with her head buried in her arms. The long, blond hair that spilled over her folded arms looked stringy, dirty and wet. She made me shiver. The only thing she wore was a filthy, white night gown and her feet were bare on the cold, dirty cement floor. Even though her face remained hidden in her arms, I knew exactly who she was. I couldn't go to her. Even though I knew all she wanted was to be seen, to be comforted and to be healed, I couldn't move. I just left her there, cold and alone huddled in the corner. Weeks went by, and I left her there untouched and undisturbed until one day, my therapist asked me to bring Jesus in. I watched in my minds eye as Jesus walked up to the little girl. Gently, he lifted her chin and a dirty face streaked with tears met His gaze. There they sat, just looking into each others eyes. The girl silently crying while Jesus lovingly wiped away her tears. I began to sob as Jesus knelt down and scooped the little girl up into His arms. He began to comfort her; gently rocking her back and forth while softly whispering comforting words and smoothing her dirty, greasy hair. It was then that I felt brave enough to enter the room. Jesus was there now and I didn't have to face her alone. Kneeling beside the two, Jesus held out his arm to me. It was time to accept and comfort this child. I had to acknowledge who she was, what she went through and what she needed. She needed me to see her and Jesus to heal her.
When I look at me? What do I see......I wonder........
In my last days of therapy, my therapist asked me to close my eyes and describe myself to him. What I felt I looked like. With my eyes closed tight, happy tears streaming down my face, I described a much different child. A beautiful snapshot of a glowing, rosy cheeked, happy, little girl appeared before me. Her once dirty, blond hair now shiny and clean was brushed back into two neat pigtails tied with pink ribbon. Jesus took care of her. I am comforted, happy and whole.
It's been several years since my years in therapy when I faced that little girl in the mirror. My sores and wounds have since healed and though many scars remain, I'm not ashamed of them. It's what my Saviour allowed and they are a part of me just as my blue eyes are. My scars make me special, unique and equipped with an armoury that not everyone gets to battle with. I hope to use these weapons for God's glory and to be able to help other people face their own reflections in the mirror.
When you look at others, what do you see? I wonder.....
Behind every smile there is a story. So often we hide our reflections; keeping our wounds and scars secretly hiden underneath robes of shame and fear. Please pray today that the Lord will help you see someone in need. One person can make such a big impact in a hurting persons life. We are told in Gal. 5:13 that we are to love and serve one another. We can do that so easily through a bright smile, a warm hug or an encouraging word. Sometimes, the best medicine is someone to cry with. Romans 12:15 wisely instructs the importance sharing tears with one another and to help carry the burden of grief. A card, a gift, a phone call, a smile or a hug....whatever way you are lead to minister.....listen to the Lord's call. Let the Lord use you to nurse someones wounds today.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Burglars and Bats
He's gone. My husband is off to Nebraska for work leaving the kids and I here home alone for the next few days to hold down the fort. Yesterday, the day before he was to leave, a break in happened the next road over. Bad timing! Living in the middle of nowhere makes me a little nervous with this new development. 1/4 of a mile separates us from our neighbor to the right and our neighbor to the left is a whopping 1/2 mile away. Not bad when you're out for a stroll to visit with the neighbors on a bird churpin', cloudless, bright, sunny day (or my personal preference, cloudy, dark and dismal. Don't be alarmed, honestly, there's nothing wrong with me!) So, maybe you can see my predicament. If anything goes wrong, our screams will go unheard.
Hang on, my dilemma doesn't stop there. Yesterday, Kris shushed the loud ramble of our family's usual chatter to crane his neck and examine the strange rustling and scratching sound coming from the kitchen ceiling. The identity of this mystery critter was left unsolved leaving me to my own deductions as to who this creepy invader was making its home above my kitchen table. My thoughts went through its mental file of all the worse case scenarios. It was a long file. There are a lot of creatures, critters and creepy crawlies that freak me out. But there's one that stands out highlighted amongst all the others with the Hollywood credentials to back it up. Bringing even the bravest of critter catchers on their knees and covering their heads in submission, the bat is the reigning king of terror in the realm of all things that make you go, "EEEEEKKKK!" We've had several run-ins with bats at this Victorian farm house of ours. Our last hiatus with this freaky, flying little monster left the family ducking and screaming (behind the protection of our big kitchen window on our side porch) leaving Kris, frustrated and annoyed by his family's insanity, to battle this zig-zagging, fast flying creature of terror all by his lonesome.
So, what on earth am I going to do if Stellalunia decides she wants to come down to play? Well, I've already thought of that and I have the perfect plan in place. I'm going to do nothing. Really. I mean, these spine-tingling flying rodents only come out at night, so during the day, we're golden. When "Luna" wakes and comes down to the kitchen in search of a buggie snack, its all hers! Kelsey taught me the last time how to move around successfully under the high flying noses of these creatures. It involves getting as low to the floor as possible under the cover of a blanket. It may be a little hard to breathe and t.v. viewing a little obscured but if it keeps Stella out of my hair, literally, I'm on board!
These next few days are going to be an adventure for this ship full of mates sailing on without our Captain, aka Head of the House, Big Cheese, Top Dog, King Dad. He has to settle ruling his roost from miles away by cell phone. As the sun sets, and thoughts of burglars and bats settle in my brain, I remind myself, someone with more seniority and a higher rank is on duty, 24/7. My Jesus is here, vigilantly watching over my children and I as we sleep (or tossing and turning in my case!) promising to always be here. He is my helper, I will NOT fear! (Hebrews 13:5 and 6) Verse 6 ends with a phrase that brings a smile to my face, "What can man do to me?" Burglars beware, I have a houseful of kids who are prepared to conquer with Ninja moves and Jedi jabs. If he is brave enough to face my Lord and these battle ready kids, bring it on! As with the bat.....I'll leave that one for Kris to handle when he gets home!
Hang on, my dilemma doesn't stop there. Yesterday, Kris shushed the loud ramble of our family's usual chatter to crane his neck and examine the strange rustling and scratching sound coming from the kitchen ceiling. The identity of this mystery critter was left unsolved leaving me to my own deductions as to who this creepy invader was making its home above my kitchen table. My thoughts went through its mental file of all the worse case scenarios. It was a long file. There are a lot of creatures, critters and creepy crawlies that freak me out. But there's one that stands out highlighted amongst all the others with the Hollywood credentials to back it up. Bringing even the bravest of critter catchers on their knees and covering their heads in submission, the bat is the reigning king of terror in the realm of all things that make you go, "EEEEEKKKK!" We've had several run-ins with bats at this Victorian farm house of ours. Our last hiatus with this freaky, flying little monster left the family ducking and screaming (behind the protection of our big kitchen window on our side porch) leaving Kris, frustrated and annoyed by his family's insanity, to battle this zig-zagging, fast flying creature of terror all by his lonesome.
So, what on earth am I going to do if Stellalunia decides she wants to come down to play? Well, I've already thought of that and I have the perfect plan in place. I'm going to do nothing. Really. I mean, these spine-tingling flying rodents only come out at night, so during the day, we're golden. When "Luna" wakes and comes down to the kitchen in search of a buggie snack, its all hers! Kelsey taught me the last time how to move around successfully under the high flying noses of these creatures. It involves getting as low to the floor as possible under the cover of a blanket. It may be a little hard to breathe and t.v. viewing a little obscured but if it keeps Stella out of my hair, literally, I'm on board!
These next few days are going to be an adventure for this ship full of mates sailing on without our Captain, aka Head of the House, Big Cheese, Top Dog, King Dad. He has to settle ruling his roost from miles away by cell phone. As the sun sets, and thoughts of burglars and bats settle in my brain, I remind myself, someone with more seniority and a higher rank is on duty, 24/7. My Jesus is here, vigilantly watching over my children and I as we sleep (or tossing and turning in my case!) promising to always be here. He is my helper, I will NOT fear! (Hebrews 13:5 and 6) Verse 6 ends with a phrase that brings a smile to my face, "What can man do to me?" Burglars beware, I have a houseful of kids who are prepared to conquer with Ninja moves and Jedi jabs. If he is brave enough to face my Lord and these battle ready kids, bring it on! As with the bat.....I'll leave that one for Kris to handle when he gets home!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Sleeping Beauty
I'm tired! No, really, I am T.I.R.E.D! I diagnosed myself with the help of WebMd (don't tell Kris, I'm banned from that site!!) and other sources with Chronic Fatigue. My doctor believes its only a reoccurring virus of some sort and a coincidence that I get it 3, 4, 5 times a year or more. Coincidence? I don't do coincidence. You know the saying, "If it walks like a duck, looks like a duck, quacks like a duck....it must be a duck"...well, I'm a quackin' because put it all together, its Chronic Fatigue in all capital letters.
"Tired? Take a nap for cryin' out loud!" Is that what you're thinking? This overwhelming fatigue is beyond not getting 8 hours or more of beauty sleep or the tired after a long, hard days work. CF, in my experience, is like being injected with a sedative. My body feels heavy, like I'm trudging around in cement shoes, my face and eyes feel swollen, and sleep is a constant, nagging thought. A bed of nails, a nest of cobras......it doesn't matter where.....my body screams for sleep!
I nicknamed CF with a better name, "The Sleeping Beauty Syndrome." I remember a few years back I lost the whole month of February! Homeschool was put on hold while I lay unconscious, oblivious to the world around me and believe me, I resembled nothing of Sleeping Beauty! My slumbering attire wasn't an evening gown but a baggy sweatshirt and sweats, my blond hair didn't spill beautifully curled over my shoulders, it was more like a frizzy, matted nest; bed-head fashion at its best! A kiss from my prince charming husband couldn't even bring me back to life! With blinking, long, fluttering lashes, Sleeping Beauty's bright, blue eyes sparkled at her prince. Receiving only a one-eyed greeting, my husband could only catch a brief glimpse of a blue, glassy, blood shot eye before it to returned back behind its heavy, black curtain of sleep.
A better name would be "The Zombie Curse." When I could drag myself out of bed, it would only be to stagger from bed to couch to chair. Emerging from my dark cave would bring excited chatter from my neglected family but the only uttering they would get in return from this Zombie Mom would be communications in grunts and mumbles. With "The Zombie Curse", my personality shuts down; a smile takes to much energy, my singing comes to a halt, and growls more than giggles emerge from my lips. The worse part of the "The Sleeping Beauty Disease", or "The Zombie Curse" is that I never know how long its going to last. Days? Weeks?? Months??? As the Curse drags on, frustration usually prevails. I feel like a Zombie Slacker; lazy, annoyed and just plain tired of feeling tired!
So, how do we deal with illness when it seems to stretch on and on? For me, I am fortunate I have a supportive family. My husband, who wears many hats here at home (shrink and doctor are just a few), who also has CF, brings out his invisible prescription pad and starts listing instructions. My kids pitch in and fill in the gaps where my illness creates the void. I am so thankful the Lord has placed these special "nurses" in my life!
Family can help deal with the physical aspect of CF but how do we deal with the emotional aspect; the feelings of laziness and worthlessness? Meditating on God's word whenever possible is important. I think back to my life's verse, Jeremiah 29:11" For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end." Other bible versions use the word "plan" in place of thoughts. If having CF is in God's plan for me, who am I to argue with the Master and Creator of......me? With CF, and in other areas of my life, I am learning to take each day, moment by moment. In Matthew 6:33 we are told no to worry about tomorrow. Today holds enough challenges to bring another day into the mix!
Prayer is another important aspect when struggling through illness. In the middle of CF, sometimes the only prayer I have enough energy for is, "Lord, please give me strength for today!" The Lord promises that He will give power to the faint (Isaiah 40:29) and that His strength is made perfect in weakness (II Chor. 12 :9). When CF hits, and my physical power is gone, I lean on my Savior for His perfect strength to help carry me through.
As I struggle through this bout with "Sleeping Beauty Syndrome", one of my mom's favorite quotes comes to mind, "This too shall pass", and I know it will, in the Lord's perfect time. CF is part of the Lord's plan for me and until the veil of slumber is lifted, I will be content. Each day, sleep beckons me and its pull becomes stronger and stronger. As my lids close I see my Saviors face, learning today's lesson from Home that the Lord wants me, for today, to rest in His arms.
"Tired? Take a nap for cryin' out loud!" Is that what you're thinking? This overwhelming fatigue is beyond not getting 8 hours or more of beauty sleep or the tired after a long, hard days work. CF, in my experience, is like being injected with a sedative. My body feels heavy, like I'm trudging around in cement shoes, my face and eyes feel swollen, and sleep is a constant, nagging thought. A bed of nails, a nest of cobras......it doesn't matter where.....my body screams for sleep!
I nicknamed CF with a better name, "The Sleeping Beauty Syndrome." I remember a few years back I lost the whole month of February! Homeschool was put on hold while I lay unconscious, oblivious to the world around me and believe me, I resembled nothing of Sleeping Beauty! My slumbering attire wasn't an evening gown but a baggy sweatshirt and sweats, my blond hair didn't spill beautifully curled over my shoulders, it was more like a frizzy, matted nest; bed-head fashion at its best! A kiss from my prince charming husband couldn't even bring me back to life! With blinking, long, fluttering lashes, Sleeping Beauty's bright, blue eyes sparkled at her prince. Receiving only a one-eyed greeting, my husband could only catch a brief glimpse of a blue, glassy, blood shot eye before it to returned back behind its heavy, black curtain of sleep.
A better name would be "The Zombie Curse." When I could drag myself out of bed, it would only be to stagger from bed to couch to chair. Emerging from my dark cave would bring excited chatter from my neglected family but the only uttering they would get in return from this Zombie Mom would be communications in grunts and mumbles. With "The Zombie Curse", my personality shuts down; a smile takes to much energy, my singing comes to a halt, and growls more than giggles emerge from my lips. The worse part of the "The Sleeping Beauty Disease", or "The Zombie Curse" is that I never know how long its going to last. Days? Weeks?? Months??? As the Curse drags on, frustration usually prevails. I feel like a Zombie Slacker; lazy, annoyed and just plain tired of feeling tired!
So, how do we deal with illness when it seems to stretch on and on? For me, I am fortunate I have a supportive family. My husband, who wears many hats here at home (shrink and doctor are just a few), who also has CF, brings out his invisible prescription pad and starts listing instructions. My kids pitch in and fill in the gaps where my illness creates the void. I am so thankful the Lord has placed these special "nurses" in my life!
Family can help deal with the physical aspect of CF but how do we deal with the emotional aspect; the feelings of laziness and worthlessness? Meditating on God's word whenever possible is important. I think back to my life's verse, Jeremiah 29:11" For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end." Other bible versions use the word "plan" in place of thoughts. If having CF is in God's plan for me, who am I to argue with the Master and Creator of......me? With CF, and in other areas of my life, I am learning to take each day, moment by moment. In Matthew 6:33 we are told no to worry about tomorrow. Today holds enough challenges to bring another day into the mix!
Prayer is another important aspect when struggling through illness. In the middle of CF, sometimes the only prayer I have enough energy for is, "Lord, please give me strength for today!" The Lord promises that He will give power to the faint (Isaiah 40:29) and that His strength is made perfect in weakness (II Chor. 12 :9). When CF hits, and my physical power is gone, I lean on my Savior for His perfect strength to help carry me through.
As I struggle through this bout with "Sleeping Beauty Syndrome", one of my mom's favorite quotes comes to mind, "This too shall pass", and I know it will, in the Lord's perfect time. CF is part of the Lord's plan for me and until the veil of slumber is lifted, I will be content. Each day, sleep beckons me and its pull becomes stronger and stronger. As my lids close I see my Saviors face, learning today's lesson from Home that the Lord wants me, for today, to rest in His arms.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Your Word Life
The written word is beautiful! A great story is a beautiful masterpiece that tantalizes all your senses. It creates a beautiful painting for your minds eye, a majestic symphony for your ears, and it can taste as rich and fulfilling as a feast for your soul! The words become more than just letters on a page. Put together properly, the words gain movement and swirl and sway; able to transport the reader into another world, another time or another place. The author has done his job! Guiding you with his words he was able to lead you on an unforgettable journey. Sometimes, however, the word map drawn by the author can be too vague. During the journey, the readers may be forced to read between the lines for direction and they can become lost...frustrated or confused. The author becomes misunderstood; heartbreaking to the author; frustrating to the reader.
The spoken word is beautiful! Letters, words, sentences and paragraphs.....all become just that without the emotion written behind them. Human speech adds another dimension to the written word. In design, lighting is crucial to completing a room. It adds mood, depth and highlights to important features in a space. By God's incredible design, the human voice adds a rich layer to human interaction. Tone, volume, infliction all allowing one to to go places that the written author could only dream of. Speaking fills the void where the written word fails.
The unspoken word is beautiful! Our eyes, face and body speak when there are no words. Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre" is a perfect example of the power of personal presence. The written word can be misread, the spoken word misheard but what brings all three together in perfect harmony is the power of body language. If not for subtle physical cues, the budding friendship between Edward and Jane may have been doomed from the beginning. Edward with his harsh but teasing comments may have been misread if not for a raised eyebrow or a sly smile. Jane's quiet growing affections may have been missed if not for her wringing hands or flowing tears.
In our lives, it's important for us to use not only one form of words but all three together. Where one creates a void, the other fills it in as neatly as a puzzle piece. Our designer and creator left us an example of using all three forms of communication. He left us His word, His, however, being flawless and perfect and without void. He gave us his Son, Jesus, who added another beautiful layer by bringing God's words to life through His teaching and His beautiful parables. To have heard His voice, as a tidal wave, rising and falling with passion to teach and later to recede to calm and steady waters to soothe, comfort and heal; we can only imagine! Lastly, Jesus was able to make the unspoken word shine through the power of His touch, bringing healing, love and peace to all who came to seek Him.
This technological age that is quickly emerging around us is slowly smothering God's perfect design for us. Texting, Facebooking, Emailing and Tweeting all are taking away the beauty of the written, spoken and unspoken word. The computer screen cannot replace the depth of anothers gaze, the keys cannot replace the warmth of the human touch, the clicking keys the soft tone of the human voice. If the keyboard or keypad is the only word life you're living, fill your void with the puzzle pieces God has designed for you.....they'll be a perfect fit!
The spoken word is beautiful! Letters, words, sentences and paragraphs.....all become just that without the emotion written behind them. Human speech adds another dimension to the written word. In design, lighting is crucial to completing a room. It adds mood, depth and highlights to important features in a space. By God's incredible design, the human voice adds a rich layer to human interaction. Tone, volume, infliction all allowing one to to go places that the written author could only dream of. Speaking fills the void where the written word fails.
The unspoken word is beautiful! Our eyes, face and body speak when there are no words. Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre" is a perfect example of the power of personal presence. The written word can be misread, the spoken word misheard but what brings all three together in perfect harmony is the power of body language. If not for subtle physical cues, the budding friendship between Edward and Jane may have been doomed from the beginning. Edward with his harsh but teasing comments may have been misread if not for a raised eyebrow or a sly smile. Jane's quiet growing affections may have been missed if not for her wringing hands or flowing tears.
In our lives, it's important for us to use not only one form of words but all three together. Where one creates a void, the other fills it in as neatly as a puzzle piece. Our designer and creator left us an example of using all three forms of communication. He left us His word, His, however, being flawless and perfect and without void. He gave us his Son, Jesus, who added another beautiful layer by bringing God's words to life through His teaching and His beautiful parables. To have heard His voice, as a tidal wave, rising and falling with passion to teach and later to recede to calm and steady waters to soothe, comfort and heal; we can only imagine! Lastly, Jesus was able to make the unspoken word shine through the power of His touch, bringing healing, love and peace to all who came to seek Him.
This technological age that is quickly emerging around us is slowly smothering God's perfect design for us. Texting, Facebooking, Emailing and Tweeting all are taking away the beauty of the written, spoken and unspoken word. The computer screen cannot replace the depth of anothers gaze, the keys cannot replace the warmth of the human touch, the clicking keys the soft tone of the human voice. If the keyboard or keypad is the only word life you're living, fill your void with the puzzle pieces God has designed for you.....they'll be a perfect fit!
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