Tag Archive | Christianity

Boys and Their Toys

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God’s Thoughts to Me

My child, listen when your father corrects you. Don’t neglect your mother’s instruction (Proverbs 1:8, NLT).

To learn, you must love discipline; it is stupid to hate correction (Proverbs 12:1).

Introduction

imageToday I am honored again by a special friend, Floyd Samons, who  is sharing dearly acquired wisdom from the school of life.

Floyd, thank you for all your support this year, helping me to keep my blog going when I was to ill to write. You are truly a brother of my heart.

Floyd blogs at The Regoi and I can assure you that his place is a treasure chest of wisdom and just plain good old common sense. To visit him, just click on his photo. Over to you:

Gifts from Christmas Passed

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As another Christmas rolls around I, like everyone else, remember the ones from my past and especially the ones from my childhood.

I remember the presents, the food, the gratified looks on my parents faces regardless how lean the year, and the words at Christmas.

I recall the old black Bible with spider web cracks in the leather from use and age that my dad opened to Luke and read from every year before any of us impatient kids could yank a bow or rip a wrapper.

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They were the words of God offered by my dad’s gentle voice. I fall into thoughts and lessons from just one of many I got from the man I miss dearly and  remember with honor at Christmas.

Money was burning a hole in my pocket, but it was my money to burn, or so I thought.

“Me and Steve want to buy a boat,” I announced to my dad.

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“A boat?”

“Yeah, like a canoe only better, we can fish and stuff,” I explained.

“How you gonna get it to the lake?” my dad asked casually.

“Steve’s dad will take us out there,” I answered, trying to hide my disappointment in his lack of enthusiasm.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, son?” he answered and I knew was the beginning of a long way around the bend where we would eventually arrive at “no.”

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As a last resort I threw out the desperation declaration, “It’s my money!” My dad took it in stride and while I can’t recall his exact words, I do recall they had something to do with it indeed being my money.

Yet, it was his responsibility to not let me blow it or do something that didn’t make good sense… Like buying a boat twenty miles from the lake as a freshman in high school with a football buddy as my partner…

The four hundred bucks that I’d worked for was safe and out of my complete control as I poured sweat and some blood into construction jobs in Arizona.

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For the next two simmering summers I saved my money for the best thing ever in the history of the whole wide world, even better than all the Christmas gifts combined; my first car.

Add that first muscle car and the freedom that comes with it to the sweet taste of gratification that comes from earning something at great sacrifice, and a kid has the ingredients and discipline that they can use for the rest of their lives…

How does a person learn self discipline and self control if they haven’t been taught how it works? How does a person learn self respect if they don’t learn how to respect others?

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I remember being so angry with my dad that my throat ached… Here’s the kicker; I knew he was right.  Even at the time of indiscreet ignorance, I knew it was, but I didn’t care about tomorrow… I wanted to live for that day.

His lesson taught me that waiting and using discipline returned dividends that taste much sweeter than quick fixes for a greedy and impatient flesh.

The lust of our flesh can’t ever truly be satisfied without wisdom from our heavenly Father to keep in check.

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For now, only God knows which of us was more proud the day my dad drove my car for the first time with me riding shotgun…

Funny thing about wise people, they never have to say things like, “I told you so.” They say things like, “This is a nice car, son… I sure am proud of you…”

Wishing you and yours the best gifts and treasures this Christmas season, the kind that can’t be calculated by a number, the kinds that are stored in our minds, hearts, and eternal souls.

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Merry Christmas, God bless you.

Floyd

P.s. Thanks again, Floyd, you are a dear precious friend!

Sweet blessings xx

Mia

I am linking-up with the ladies at my Tea Time and Link-Up page.

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A Turbulent Heart

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God’s Thoughts to Me

My soul followeth hard after Thee; Thy right Hand upholdeth me (Psalm 63:8 KJV).

She has heard about Jesus, so she came up behind Him through the crowd and touched His robe (Mark 5:27, NLT).

Behind The Veil

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The late Brennan Manning said in his book, The Lion And The Lamb,” You will trust God only as much as you love Him. You will love Him not because you have studied Him. You will love Him only because you have touched Him – in response to His touch”.

Divine wisdom wrapped in Truth. Jesus warned the Pharisees that they were searching the Scriptures daily thinking that in them they had eternal Life.

But they were oblivious to the Living Word, blind to the Eternal Life standing right in front of them and they were doomed.

I recall a time in my own life when I was stumbling through a severe winter season. My physiology and psychology were naked and lost in sinister, dark, lifeless forest of religiosity.

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The giant branches of the ancient trees of traditions gnarled its fingers around my turbulent heart, trying to steal the last shreds which were panting for streams of the Living Quiet Waters of freedom.

They locked me up with the chains of religious high-sounding words in the cruel grip of laws and rules and regulations at a time when my body was immobilized by pain and exhaustion.

But like the Pharisees, my spirit was the prisoner of the lifeless idol of Bibliolatry. Silent pitiful cries and despondent tears enveloped me with an unbearable longing to touch the Robe of the Beloved.

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For many years I was an avid student of Theology and had the fundamentals of the faith at my fingertips. I could almost quote the Bible, chapter and verse.

I fell in love with the idea of God’s grace and love, but this love affair was only a figment of my imagination.

It was a poor substitute for that almost magical reality of a spirit becoming one in union with the sweet Spirit of God; that intimate closeness that seemed so utterly unobtainable.

It was not for lack of trying; just the opposite. I was the master striver, striving earnestly to build beautifully crafted altars, begging God to consume my hand crafted offers with the fire of His Love.

I was from the old school who prided themselves in their strong work ethic and was perplexed by the absence of Holy Fire.

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No … it was because of my lack of touching Him as a response to His touch. My heart was bound with the cords of doctrines and creeds. I was experiencing the death of the letter of the law.

My lips were singing Hallelujahs, but my heart was far from my first Love, yearning for that mysterious something many saints seemed to smile so secretly about all through the ages.

At the same time, I was suffocated by an unhealthy fear of God. I was terrified of that relentless monster of self-condemnation and shame.

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This master of deceit taunted me day and night with sneering, damnable lies that my hand was already spoken for by the dark, evil one.

When I stumbled upon these words of Mr Manning, a new day dawned in my inmost heart. A passionate, burning flame pierced my soul and my eyes were opened to see beyond the veil of my mind.

I was swept off my feet, overwhelmed with a love that was at the same time beautifully disturbing and devastatingly delightful. I was in awe of the prevenient grace of our King.

imageThoughts of another woman from another time; the woman with the issue of blood stirred my mind. We were both at a very lonely and needy place; both at the crossroads of our lives; bankrupt and seeking the ancient paths of eternity.

With shame I confess that I hoped that our Pappa would to transform Himself into a genie in a bottle, where my wishes were His commands.

But this Genie surely seemed as deaf as a doorknob and as blind as a bat, very unappreciative of all my clever selfish maneuvers. Yet, He patiently and gently kept on drawing me into His Loving Embrace.

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When I finally came to the end of my tether, I had no other choice but to crawl on my spiritual knees, like the woman with the issue of blood, until my heart finally touched the hem of my Beloved’s heart.

He took the tatters of my brokenness and started to heal me from the inside out. Although my illness is still very much part of my life, He has brought me to a place of sweet acceptance.

A place where I can eagerly look forward to the day when I will leave this old coat behind to be clothed in a new glorious spiritual body.

I will not dare to trivialize the suffering of a chronic illness, but I do want to dare all to follow hard after our God, assured of His right hand upholding us.

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Crawl if necessary until you are near enough to touch our Lord Jesus again and again and again … and then still again and again.

Much love and sweet blessings xx

Mia

I am linking-up with the ladies at my Tea Time and Link-Up page.

Itching Ears

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God’s Thoughts to Me

For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to sound and wholesome teaching. They will follow their own desires and look for teachers who will tell them whatever their itching ears want to to hear. They will reject the truth and chase after myths (2 Timothy 4:3-4, NLT).

The Sirens

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The world is cloaked in a blanket of sorrow and darkness. The hearts of men are sailors sailing the oceans of destruction, listening intently while being mesmerized and lured away by the lewd songs of the Sirens.

They beckon them on a voyage to the deepest water abyss where the Prostitute rules (Rev 17:15).

The merchants of the world are strutting like peacocks , spewing lies, committing adultery with the whore of Babylon, getting drunk on the wine of her passionate immorality.

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They are traders of gold, silver, jewels, cinnamon, incense, wine, religion and the souls of men.

They whisper delightful lies to the itching ears of man with false, deceptive promises of wealth, prosperity and glory.

Their fate is eternal damnation for this great city has fallen. She has become a home for demons and a hideout for every foul spirit.

The merchants will weep and mourn over their beloved.

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They will seek another lover, crying in sackcloth and ashes while their wealth disappears in a puff of smoke.

But they are deaf to the gentle voice calling from heaven, “Come away from her, my people” (Rev 18:3).

Much love xx

Mia

Linking-up with

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He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother

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God’s Thoughts to Me

I no longer call you slaves, because a master does not confide in his slaves. Now you are my friends, since I have told you everything the Father told me (John 15:14, NLT).

Jesus asked, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” Then He pointed to His disciples and said, “Anyone who does the will of my Father  in heaven is my brother and sister and mother!” (Matthew 12:48-50, NLT).

My Friend, My Brother

In 1969 Bob Russel, who was dying of cancer of the lymph nodes, and Bobby Scott met in person only three times.

That was enough for these two guys to write the beautiful ballad, He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother. It was released the same year by the Hollies and topped the charts in both the UK and the USA.

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There was a time when I was totally bowed over by all the baggage of my past, desperately ill and totally alone.

It will suffice to say that I was totally, as in really totally, alone  and rejected by even my disbelieving husband and children.

Yet, my spirit was soaring on the wings of the Wind. He gently carried me, cradling me against His breast, while whispering softly to my heart, “You ain’t heavy, dear one, you are mine!”.

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When I was truly groveling in the mud of sin and self-contempt, with only a few hungry pigs as company, I could hear His words of comfort and love.

Not long ago I asked Him why He was so close to me when everyone else was looking down  on me with utter disgust because of my incredible load of sin.

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He gently informed me that He saw my heart, He knew my pain, He heard my cries for help.

Besides, He was in the business of binding up the broken hearted, setting the captives free and seeking and saving the lost.

He reminded me that He is my friend who is closer than a brother … a bridegroom giving His life for His bride … a God who is far above and beyond the ability of mankind to fathom.

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He is close to the suffering … He never leaves them, nor forsakes them … He is the Friend of sinners … He carries them close to His heart … He envelopes them in His Loving Embrace.

Much love XX

Mia

Linking-up with

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At My Beloved’s Table

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God’s Thoughts to Me

But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things! (Galatians 5::22, NLT).

Living in My Beloved

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My Beloved Lord Jesus, living in you and you in me, transformed my heart, allowing me to feast on the spiritual delights of your love.

Where selfishness were the reigning monarch of my soul,  you have created colorful blossoms of joy.

Where the storms of life threatened to destroy my life on the rocks of turmoil, the gentle breeze of your patience has steered my heart to still, calm waters.

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Where the stormy dark clouds of my petulance, blocked the sunshine of your heart, your brilliant, patient smile melted the crust of ice enveloping my soul.

Where rudeness was my fortress of protection against the hurt and sorrow of this world, your kindness demolished those walls of lies and brought me to the safe tower of  your gentleness and kindness.

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When you could only catch a glimmer of faith in my heart, as I was fearing and fleeing from your pursuing love, your faithfulness brought me back to the vineyard of your affection.

Where I was the captain of my soul, you were the captor who took control and gently uprooted my independence and grafted me into the vine … into your life … into your Loving Embrace.

Much love xx

Mia

I am again linking-up with

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