A Barn, a '55 Chevy Truck and a Corn Field

I am sitting in our car riding through the mountains of Virginia. I know that there are many people who love to go on vacation with their families but detest the car ride to get to their destination. Not me. I love it. It is actually my favorite part of vacation. I love getting to see the mountains, rolling hills, fields, animals, churches, houses, and old barns. (I have a thing for old barns!) I like seeing Christmas trees, peanuts, corn, tomatoes and all variety of vegetables growing in neat rows. Some big farms and some small, some the size of the row or two that grow in my yard. I love seeing architecture from years past or months past. I like seeing old tractors, old cars, beat up old dump trucks and if I happen to see a ’55 Chevy truck, oh my! (I have a thing for those, too!)

All of these things make it nice to travel by car, but they are not my favorite reason for our trips.

The best part of traveling this way is time. Time with my husband. Time with my children. Time to think and reflect and pray where there are no other things demanding my attention. Time to talk and plan and dream. Time to laugh. Time for listening to “Adventures in Odyssey” and book recordings. 

Our vacations offer something else that we let get squeezed out in our day to day living… quiet. There are sometimes hours of no one speaking at all. We are just being together. Breathing together. Being family. I love that!

I would like to recommend this for every family.  Yes, there are times when we get grouchy and get on each other’s nerves, but it is funny how even those times make the fondest of memories.

No Covert Christianity Here

Several weeks ago our family was invited to have dinner at  one of our church member's home. We started the evening as many dinners do, chatting, laughing and waiting for the meal to be completed. However, soon Gene and I began to notice that we quickly exited normal conversation. As we sat around the table each person began to talk of Jesus. About how their relationship with Him has altered the projection of their lives. They spoke of details of life before God broke through and offered a full, meaningful life. I sat in awe and, though not normally given to public emotion, found tears filling my eyes. There were no grand proclamations of revival in the invitation to dinner, but as the evening progressed from one story of God's grace to the next, I felt the Holy Spirit beginning a symphony of praise and worship that surely was reviving my love and adoration for Jesus. I wondered at the openness, the soul level honesty of these dear people. Then it struck both Gene and myself. We were in the midst of people from other cultures that knew none of our American "political correctness". These amazing believers were just doing what came natural to them. Telling their stories of Christ redeeming love for them. 
As we left to return home that evening, we realized that we were the only two Caucasian people there. We were and are honored at the privilege of being in their presence.
How much we could learn from people of other cultures if we allowed ourselves! Open conversations about our love for Jesus, our indebtedness to His grace, our gratitude for His suffering, our awe at His choosing! 
Oh, Father may it be so! 

"I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High."  Psalm 9:1-2

On Missing Church

Today I am at home.

A few days ago I picked up some sort of virus that now has decided that it is rather happy and wants to stay and wreak havoc with my respiratory system. So here I am sitting in my bed instead of being in church.
Even though sleep was illusive last night, I got up early, got our four year old ready and sent her to church with her daddy.
After their departure, I decided to push through the fog of this annoying, unpleasant malady and get ready and go to church, too. I took a shower, put on make-up, and... that's it. By this point I am completely exhausted. Now I am very tired and sad as well.
I hate missing church. My four year old would be appalled to know that I used the word "hate", but in this instance it is true.
For my spiritual well-being I need the opportunity to worship corporately,to study the Bible with other people, to hear the Word of God preached by an anointed pastor, and have community with the family of Christ.
My heart is to be in fellowship with other believers. My soul needs the strong challenge of digging deep into the Word of God with accountability. I need to be involved in ministry with my church family reaching out with the Gospel to the world around us.
And my church needs me. Even though I am broken, messed up, and sinful, my church still needs me. Because I am a part of the body. I am needed or the body of my local church will not be whole. 
I love my church family because they know me and (for some crazy reason) they want to know me more. They love me.(Not completely sure about their sanity.) They laugh with me and some times, we all laugh at me. In my moments of grief since we have been here, they have loved me through it. They let me be me, but hopefully will not allow me to remain stagnant.

Hebrews 10:23-25

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds,  not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another —and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

I need to be with my church family and they need me. But I'm guessing that for this one day, they will be glad that I am at home and not creating another hazardous material zone.