Counting Our Blessings

Thanksgiving was upon us, but I felt I had very little to be thankful for that year. The past few months had brought tremendous upheaval and sorrow to our family. Without warning, a national company I worked for was closing their doors, eliminating, on short notice, a good portion of our household income. My mother-in law, the dear mother of my husband and beloved grandmother of my children, was diagnosed with untreatable liver cancer. This would be the last Thanksgiving we would spend together.

So it was with a heavy heart I sat in our little church that Wednesday evening, pondering the morrow when we would gather around the table to give thanks. Grabbing the hymnbook from its appointed place, I turned to the correct page as directed by the pastor. It was, I suppose, a great choice for the holiday at hand, but as the church family began to sing, “Count your blessings, name them one by one, count your blessings see what God has done, Count your blessings, name them one by one…” I simply didn’t have the heart to continue. I knew God was good. I knew he would see us through this difficult time. I knew his promises were true. But at that moment, I could not think of a single blessing worth counting.

When the service concluded, an elderly woman who was acquainted with our family came up and stopped in the aisle. Not really wanting to talk, I turned to the task at hand, that of trying to contain our four rowdy children who were anxious to leave the church pew to which they had been confined. Seeing I was flustered, I expected her to hurry on, but she would not be dissuaded.

With a twinkle in her eyes she proclaimed, “Such joy must be yours as you can not only count, but name your blessings.” Then she did something I will never foreget. Making her way down to where the children were, she proceeded to tap each child gently on the head as she spoke their names, “Loren, Sharon, Brett, Laura… one, two three, four." Turning again to me she proclaimed, "My dear you will find your blessings multiplied many times over during the years to come in the lives of these four. Cherish them, nourish them, enjoy them.” And with that, she gave a quick hug and walked down the aisle and out the doors of the church.

Eighteen years removed from that Thanksgiving eve, I find myself remembering and rejoicing as I realize just how true were the words of that sweet saint. In our prolonged season of difficulty and sorrow, God not only gave unto us “beauty for ashes and the oil of joy for mourning”, but he used that very time to draw us into a closer relationship with him. In that seemingly endless season of brokenness, a fresh, sweet fragrance of God’s love permeated our hearts. Out of the depths of despair was born a passionate love for Jesus, which would grow and bear much fruit in the lives of each of our children.

This Thanksgiving I find it difficult once again to count my blessings, not because they are few but because they have become innumerable. As we continue to cherish, nourish and enjoy those whom God has entrusted to our care, our hearts are filled with praise and thanksgiving to the One who has been faithful. He alone is worthy of our praise.

Whether you are walking through difficult days or times of rejoicing, it is my prayer that each of us might join with the four and twenty elders who surround the throne saying, “Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen.

The Melody

From the far corners of the earth they had come, if not to bid, at least determined to catch a glimpse of the masterpiece to be offered. It was said no other violin in the world could match the one to be auctioned off that afternoon. To the highest bidder it would go; an instrument capable of rendering such an exquisite sound one would sell all his worldly goods to gain it’s possession. Who would be counted worthy to own such a piece?

A hush descended upon the crowd as he entered the room. A rapid crescendo of whispers followed until at last the auctioneer sounded his gavel. Of course, who better to purchase the old master’s violin than the one who had trained under him for all those years? Who but he could produce the haunting melody that left one longing for more, saddened that such a tune would ever end. Though the bids continued higher and higher, everyone knew it was he who would emerge victorious. There could be no other. It was as it should be.

Stillness crept over the hall as he cradled the violin in his arms, rapt attention given to the moment his gifted hands would bring bow and strings together. Eyes closed in anticipation, few noticed as he carefully began removing the violin’s strings, gently placing them in the aged case. Disappointed swept through the crowd as he began to explain. It would take time to fine tune such an instrument. Perhaps next week he would give a concert, perhaps next month or maybe next year. He would let them know. And with that, he turned and walked out the door.

Years passed, and those who knew him well said he was never again the same. To have such a violin in his possession was more than he could comprehend. Surely he could never recreate the beautiful melody that had flowed so freely from his master’s skillful hands. It was said he spent the remainder of his days stringing and unstringing the violin, never playing the tune for which it was made.

Has God bestowed upon you gifts that are intended to encourage your family, your friends, your sisters in Christ? Has he enabled you to minister to children or worship Him in song, to greet those who walk through the doors Sunday morning or to open your home and invite women in for a time of coffee and fellowship? Has he filled you with compassion to care for the ill or visit the lonely? Has he given you resources to share with those in need…to be the answer to someone’s prayer? Has he simply given you the ability to open your heart to someone in need of a friend?

Romans 12 tells us we have each been given “gifts that differ according to the grace given us”. The choice is yours. God masterfully orchestrates a beautiful symphony of praise. Will you remain in the wings, fine tuning the gifts you have been given or will you choose to let your life become a part of God’s melody? Choose wisely that one day you might hear those words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”

As I Forgive Those...

The call itself was not so unusual. Over the years we would keep in touch and always it was as though no time had passed since last we spoke. Maybe it was a question I asked, maybe it was the very reason she had called, but whatever the cause, it wasn’t long until the tears began to flow and years of anger and hurt and gripping sorrow tumbled out across the line. Twelve years since the bond of marriage had been severed, twelve years since a relationship was shattered and still the pain continued to wear away at her soul.

I grieved for the broken relationship that had strewn heartache and misery in her path. In the wake of her broken marriage angry words had ensued and accusations had been made. The very cords of love which had served to bind the extended family together soon unraveled. Those with whom she had once shared sweet fellowship were now banished from ever crossing the threshold of her home. There seemed to be no balm that would heal the wound.

Now, word had reached her that the one who had so wounded her was nearing life’s end. The pain has surfaced anew, but she has vowed he will be long in his grave before she will offer forgiveness. And all the while, the tears flowed.

The significance of those words struck home several weeks later as I attended the funeral of another who had suffered a broken relationship. Raised by God-fearing parents, he had once seemed to draw near to Jesus. But like my friend, he was left hurt and bitter by the rejection of one who had professed to love him. The years had never seemed to ease the pain and rather than turning to the One who had suffered the greatest rejection of all time, he chose to sever all ties with the One who had died to offer him the greatest gift of all. Only God knows the eternal price of a broken relationship.

Forgiveness is not easy. Peter knew this to be true. He came to Jesus that day and asked “Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times? Jesus answered him, “I say not unto thee, seven times: but seventy times seven.”


Realizing how difficult this would be, the apostles said unto the Lord, “Increase our faith!”

As I gaze upon the cross and hear the words of Jesus which echo through the ages, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do”, may I humbly pray every day, “My Father who art in Heaven….forgive me my trespasses as I forgive those who have trespassed against me.”

Set Apart

Surrounded by Faith, Hope and Charity (the original names of the Three Sisters Mountains) we maneuvered our way through the lava strewn terrain as we mounted the steps of the observatory at the peak of the McKenzie Pass. From our vantage atop the roof of the rock gazebo we gazed for miles and miles in every direction, our hearts filled with wonder and awe at the majesty of God’s handiwork.

I paused for a moment to ponder, “Was that how it was for Rahab, sitting atop the wall of Jericho? Did she gaze out into the distance; not to view God’s creation but rather hoping to catch a glimpse of God’s people, knowing the mighty army of Israel was encamped just over the Jordan?”

My thoughts drifted back to our retreat this past week-end where together we discovered anew the amazing grace of God in the lives of Rahab, Ruth, Tamar and Bathsheba. Of those, I find Rahab the most intriguing.

Rahab, who feared the God Jehovah who had performed such mighty miracles for the children of Israel; Rahab, who welcomed the spies as messengers from that same God; Rahab who hid the spies, confessing that Jehovah was now her God; Rahab asking that she and her entire family be preserved from the coming destruction; Rahab who risked her life in hanging the scarlet cord from her window, announcing to all that her home was set apart. Rahab; the harlot turned heroine.

I realize I would do well to learn from Rahab. How marvelous must the message have seemed to her as she learned of the hope that is given to God’s people.

Oh that I might be swift to welcome into my own life the One who spies out the deep things of God, that He might share them with me if I will but listen. I Corinthians 2 tells us “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea the deep things of God.”

At the risk of her own life, Rahab hid the spies who had brought her the words of God. Do we treasure God’s word? Can we like the Psalmist David proclaim “Thy Word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee.” Do we declare his judgments and rejoice in his testimony? Do we meditate on his precepts and obey what he says? Is it a delight or a duty? (Psalm 119:13-16

At the risk of ridicule from her father and mother, brothers and sisters, Rahab established a place where her entire family might find salvation. Her house was set apart, covered by the scarlet cord. What WAS it in Rahab that caused them to believe and come in, that they might be saved? What is it in my house, in your house, that will cause our families to desire the covering of the blood of Christ?

I will let you ponder that as I direct your thoughts to Colossians Chapter 3: “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For ye are dead and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory.”

The Retreat Oct 2008

What a glorious week-end! Twenty-four girls from TFAB (TheFellowship at Bend) gathered together to take part in worship, to hear from God's Word, to pray and to share in a time of fun and fellowship.

I will be posting some thoughts from that retreat later tonight or tomorrow, but for now, enjoy a glimpse into our special time together.















































It was fun girls, thanks for a marvelous week-end!

To Showcase His Glory

I confess. I did my fair share of murmuring and complaining last winter. If you were not here or if you are one of those arctic type people who think snow falling in May is actually exciting, then you may not understand. It’s not that I don’t like snow; it’s just that I like to see it come AND go. A few inches in a few days is grand, everyone is excited to see snowmen sprouting up like weeds and who can deny the thrill of watching your grandkids race down the hill on their bright red sleds!

There is nothing more beautiful than waking up to a winter wonderland…in December…or January…or even February. But when the last vestige of snow finally sneaks away the first of May, well, you get the picture.

As you might guess, winter is not my favorite season. I tolerate it. Ask any one of my children in what season I find my greatest joy and they will respond without hesitation, “Autumn”. I absolutely revel in God’s beautiful tapestry of red and yellow, gold and orange, all set against a crisp sky of blue. The kids always cringed when asking me to drive them somewhere in the month of October, knowing full well they would be admonished to “Look at that tree!” Not once, not twice, but multiple times in but a few miles!

This year has been especially striking! From the blazing maples to the shimmering aspens, I cannot recall a year where the color has been more breathtaking. (I’m sure my children are most thankful they are now adults and can drive themselves where they want to go.) How could such exquisite beauty exist in this high desert we call home?

As I pause to try and capture the moment, I find myself thanking my Creator for not only surrounding me with such grandeur, but for creating me with the ability and desire to enjoy it. Yet even in that moment I cannot help but realize that soon the radiant hues of fall will give way to the barren starkness of winter and without warning, my joy is diminished, until…. until God reminded me of His promise in Isaiah 55:

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts, says the Lord.

For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and returns not thither, but waters the earth and makes it bring forth and bud that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goes forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please...

For you shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the fields shall clap their hands!

Without the snow of winter, there would be no clapping trees of fall. Without the cold dark days of winter, when the earth lies shrouded in silence, there would be no autumn symphony of color to proclaim the glory of our Creator!

So it is in our lives. If it were up to me, I would choose to live each day surrounded by the spectacular and awe inspiring. I would ask that winter never breathe its icy chill upon my soul. But that is not the way of our Lord. It is in the dark, wintery days of our life that He often does His greatest work.


In those times when it seems
all hope is lost,
buried beneath
mounting snowdrifts of doubt
and sorrow.........

it is in those times God is preparing to showcase His glory !

To Whom Shall We Go

Rough was how they described it. Like sandpaper, grating on the surface of ones soul. Who can listen to it?

Bewildering and perplexing. How can these things be? Even the wise old teacher of Israel could not understand when Jesus talked of spiritual things.

Have you read the words lately? We did, this morning in our Bible study. I challenged the women to read it as a non-believer, as one hearing the words for the first time.

In John Chapter 6 Jesus tells those who have come looking for more bread for their stomachs that they must shift their gaze to the one who IS the bread of life. “Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died.” That is always the way with earthly satisfaction, even of our most basic needs. Ultimately the things of this world cannot sustain us. They may provide momentary satisfaction but we will always be left wanting again and wanting more.

Although he fed the multitudes, Jesus did not come to provide us a lifetime meal ticket. Although he healed the blind and the lame, He did not die on the cross just to heal these earthen vessels that must one day return to dust. His blood was shed, His body was broken for so much more. “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall never hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst…For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks upon the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

This is the great hope! Though my tummy may growl and my bones groan, He will be my sustenance. He will feed the gnawing hunger in my soul, his blood will wash away the cancerous stains of sin which infect my heart. One day, not too far away, I will “Fly Away” as we sang this morning. Mortal will be swallowed up immortal; the temporal will give way to the eternal.

But there is a catch, which is what makes this a hard saying. Jesus said unto them, “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His blood, you have not life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

The choice is there for every man and every woman who comes to the Cross in the road of their life. Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No man comes to the Father but by me.” Period. It is the wall no man can scale, the chasm too wide to traverse. No amount of human effort can gain you eternal life. There is only one way. You must receive His broken body and drink of His blood that was shed as an atonement for your sin.

“What must we do to work the works of God”, they asked? “This is the work of God that you believe in Him whom He has sent.”

Many walked away that day. Jesus turned to the twelve disciples and asked “Do you want to go away as well?

Simon Peter answered with words that echo through the ensuing generations, “ Lord, to whom shall we go? You alone have the words of eternal life”.