Lights Shining For Miles

I Saw the Same Two Lights for the First Time in Years

I was almost five years old when we moved to the pink house on the hill where my mother and I still live. In September, following our move, my sister was born. With my parents, maternal grandparents, and new sister, our family now totaled six. Most of the time when all six of us left our home for the evening, the front porch light and the backyard light were turned on.

 Many evenings as we returned to the Bend, my father would say, “Those two lights over there are where we live.” He usually made this comment as we exited off Highway 18. That statement impacted me, even as a child, in a couple of ways.

First, the place we lived was illuminated – it stood out several miles away. Secondly, the place we lived served as a haven for each of us in its own unique way.

As I drove home recently from Bible study one evening, for the first time since moving back to the farm, I noticed the two lights once again. As I pulled through the yard gate and closed it, I gazed into the brilliant winter sky when the thought of the continuity of faith struck me. Out of my six family members, I was the only one viewing the lights and coming into the gate of the farmhouse's yard fence. Yet the same Jesus who enabled us to have a vibrant, daily relationship with God, the creator of the universe, remained the same as He was so many years ago when the six of us returned from church. The writer of Hebrews stated the theology of the eternal constancy of the Savior when he wrote, Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever. What stability and steadfastness the unchanging Christ confirms in an ever-changing world! My family dynamics have changed drastically. Yet the powerful presence of the omnipotent God has not diminished at all.

Just as the two lights glow in the night from Mother’s farmhouse, so Jesus said, A city built on a hill cannot be hidden (Matthew 7:14). Jesus preceded that comment with You are the light of the world. Jesus said, Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven (Verse 16). Can I live a better legacy to honor my maternal grandparents and my father than choosing to honor the Heavenly Father with my actions and words - letting His light shine through me?

Not just my home, but all homes of believers, should serve as a haven, a place of peace and welcome to others. Our homes should be places where opinions can be exchanged and then discussed with God’s Word open to see how those ideas stack up against the gold standard of Scripture. Encouragement flows naturally from an atmosphere where God’s Word is read, repeated, and discussed. Innumerable times, my memory recalls people visiting in our home and leaving with the challenge to grow in the Lord and in the knowledge of His Word. That remains the primary intent of each day Mother and I live on Big Bend Road.

So much has changed here at the pink house on the hill. Buildings and fences that were newly constructed in the early 1960s are in dilapidated shape or have already been replaced, but the faith in Jesus taught for over a half-century in the pink house remains as vibrant, alive, and relevant as ever. Jesus promised in Matthew 24:35
Heaven and earth will pass away, but My Words will never pass away.

Lord, empower me to allow Your light to shine through me. May Your Words flow from me enriching the time anyone spends in my presence.

Newly Replaced Pole Light in Back Yard - one 
of the lights I had seen from several miles away.

Putting on a New License Plate...

 …a Lesson in Responding to Constructive Criticism

               New license plates were issued last year. Getting the old tag off my car proved relatively easy for someone who moved back to the farm six years ago with little mechanical capability and even less desire to gain any prowess in that area.

As I continued with the license plate replacement, I ran into a challenge loosening the needed bolts and nuts from the old plate. Soon I engaged my 93-year-old mother in discussion because she usually has a workable solution to try for most difficulties I encounter. Over the last few years, I had gained enough handywoman experience to ask her, “What about WD-40?”! She affirmed it was worth trying.

 I drenched the stubborn hardware on the soon-to-be discarded plate with the WD-40 from Mother’s stash of handywoman resources. Sitting on the front porch step with newspaper under the old plate, I was astounded how quickly the rusted nut turned deftly as I grasped it with the pliers. Just seconds before, it was immovable. 

As I continued with the installation of the shiny, new license plate, I mused on what God was teaching from such a simple task. What was the purpose of rusted, stubborn fasteners, unwilling to yield to pliers and a screwdriver, even after exerting as much force as I could muster?

I went to the Word of God. Turning to Psalm 141, a psalm of David, I began reading verse 5. These words illumined my understanding conveyed by my previous job.

Let the righteous strike me; It shall be a kindness. And let him rebuke me; It shall be as excellent oil; Let my head not refuse it. For still my prayer is against the deeds of the wicked. Psalm 141:5 (NKJV)

David mentions the righteous – an individual who is right with God, not through the person’s own good deeds, but because that one’s sins are forgiven. The shepherd king requests the righteous person correct him, get him in line. The psalmist indicates that gentle, but effective critique provided by one who genuinely cares illustrates a kindness that is soothing. David adamantly insists he will welcome the constructive criticism which acts as the gentle massage of oil to a head dried, burned, and chapped by a scorching, hot wind.

The WD-40 lubricated the stuck bolt that appeared useless and ineffective. Following the application of the oil, the previous unusable bolt and nut readily affixed the new license plate to place. In the same way, a godly person concisely speaking a timely word of corrective criticism can see results in the hearer if the constructive criticism is accepted and followed.

Seek God’s guidance to speak words like soothing oil for the betterment in the life of a loved one. In turn, accept graciously the useful and beneficial critique by a caring person. Then each of us can embrace openheartedly the opportunity for progress in our lives.

The Unprecedented Week

My 93-year-old mother cited the events of this week as unprecedented. Our small church congregation buried (a term my father often used) three of its older members in one week. Following the Apostle Paul’s admonition, we sorrowed – not as those without hope, nevertheless, we sorrowed.

On April 5, 2018, Jean Norton died. My mother once characterized our society’s attire and decorum as “extremely casual” whereas Dad described it as “sloppy.” Jean, even in her leisure times, retained a classy, coordinated appearance with well-coiffed hair and a posture most 20-year-olds would envy. Her love of her family energized her to maintain a productive activeness, grounded in unshakable godly principles until her death at 90.

She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. 
Proverbs 31:27

Jean Norton
photo from her funeral folio

Bob Hightower died on April 7, 2018 at the age of 88. Bob valued worshiping in the Lord’s house every week. He held to doing what was right. (Bob always drove the posted speed limit for the stretch of road on which he was traveling. I have been convicted of my speeding just by following him.) Bob felt his death was imminent. As his younger son described it, Bob, a sensible planner, formulated a mental checklist of what needed to be done before he departed from his family. Each family member knew at the top of the list was the commitment of his life and death to Jesus. Bob epitomized King Solomon’s counsel, when he tackled each new endeavor by learning from others the "best practices" and then implemented them to the best of his ability.

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might… 

Ecclesiastes 9:10

Bob Hightower
photo from his funeral folio

The last of the three and the oldest at age 92, Harvey Myers died on April 10, 2018. Harvey's favorite cure for what ailed a person was “work it off.” Productivity diminished physical pain, emotional weariness, and mental stress for Harvey, subsequently providing renewal for him. Those closest to him knew he fought frequently the battle with pain during his later years with hardly a murmur or complaint. Harvey’s deep-seated belief that only Jesus could change the sinful heart of each of us propelled him to share the good news of Jesus with all he met.

We were sent to speak for Christ, and God is begging you to listen to our message. We speak for Christ and sincerely ask you to make peace with God. 

 II Corinthians 5:20

Harvey Myers
photo from his funeral folio

Strong, Sustaining Faith in Jesus

Loving Devotion and Support of Family

Unwavering Commitment to Hard Work

These three phrases summarize the lives of these elder saints so beloved by our congregation. Each of us who knew and loved Jean, Bob, and Harvey can live out their legacy of faith in Jesus by nurturing our relationship with Him daily and make the choice to worship weekly with our church family. Treat family members with respect while affirming those virtues that build a strong family. We will honor and emulate these three beloved ones when we purpose to give an honest day’s work whether working for an employer or ourselves.

Pray for each of the family members of Jean, Bob, and Harvey. Only God can truly comfort hearts and give peace and solace to aching, sorrowing hearts.

Early Morning Sounds in the Stillness

              I wrote this in January and planned to file it away for use at a later time. This week, it kept coming to mind so decided to post it. 

                The below freezing temperatures coupled with frosty surfaces pervaded the early morning. As I walked to fill the stock tank, an encompassing stillness filled the early day as the sun struggled to burn through the morning overcast.

                Suddenly, a pecking noise broke the morning silence. I halted my movement to locate the source of the rhythmic, measured staccatos piercing the quiet beginning of the day.

                Within a few seconds, I spotted the barely perceptible form of a woodpecker initiating the recurring tapping. The bird perched on a high limb of the bare silver leaf maple tree. A pause punctuated the morning as if the woodpecker checked out its surroundings momentarily. Then it resumed its systematic pecking as it searched for nourishment on that frigid morning.

The Silver Leaf Maple Tree - I wish I
would have had my camera with me
that morning. Since I didn't,  I had to 
shoot this on another dreary morning.

                As I stood for a moment, with my eyes fixated on the upper limb and the persistent bird, I thought of the scripture from the inspired writings of Paul to the Thessalonian group of believers. The command reads:

Rejoice always,

Pray without ceasing,

In everything give thanks;

For this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

                Paul began that section with rejoicing. Some people characterize this as being a “glass half-full” person. My mother modeled this attitude. Mother introduced my sister and me to the children’s book Pollyanna. Soon after that, Angie and I would call Mother “Pollyanna” when we would see her rejoicing or finding good in almost every situation. In our adolescent years, there were times we found Mother's optimistic approach downright irritating.

                My father liked to say whenever we discussed I Thessalonians 5:17 that verse showed we needed to maintain an attitude of prayer.  He meant a readiness to pray should pervade our work, play, and worship. He implied when a crisis looms suddenly on the horizon of our life, we will be ready to make a request of the Lord.

                Paul addressed thankfulness as he closed the discussion on prayer. Sometimes in our western world today, the spirit of thankfulness seems to be in short supply in our country, one of the most affluent in our world. Our society appears to tower above all other eras in history in our comforts, our materialism, and instantaneous gratification. Yet how sad that seldom are the words “thank you” spoken to other humans, let alone speaking it in prayer to the Creator, Sustainer, and Omnipotent God.

                 What a small, but persistent creature the woodpecker was that wintry morning! I hold its constant tapping in my memory as a reminder to continually pray, rejoice, and give thanks.

The Delicate Dilemma of Preserving Easter Memories in Pictures

Celebrating the First Lord’s Day Sixty Years Ago

                How many times are holiday photos next to impossible to snap? Easter 1958 seemed to be one of those times.

Mother recalled what an active, but happy little one I was. I remembered car trips with my grandparents in the back seat and my father driving as Mother sat in the passenger seat. Of course, child restraints in a vehicle were unheard of in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Many excursions found me climbing numerous times over the front seat to get to my grandparents and back. Finally, my patient, but firm, mother indicated, “No more. Stay up here.”

Perusing the photos from my second Easter revealed a somber two-year-old in the more formal Easter poses. Yet one blurry snapshot showed me, in my terrible twos, with an expression of delight, hugging tightly an apparently new stuffed bunny doll. Probably Mother tried to get a better candid shot but couldn’t get me to hold still long enough for that. Videos were non-existent for our family in those days. (As I got a couple of years older, I remember being told the expense of photographs, from the film purchase to the cost of film developing. Wow! Have times changed? Now we just erase those imperfect shots and take another one!)

Looking at the "Easter family portrait," I was a subdued child between my smiling parents with Dad holding my left hand and his right hand cuddled me on his right knee so my grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, could quickly take the photograph. I couldn’t muster a smile since I was concentrating so strongly on keeping every muscle still to ensure a good picture! Truthfully, my serious countenance probably denoted my slight displeasure at not getting my way. (How thankful I am that both of my parents continued to build structure into my daily life to direct my excessive activeness into purposeful life responsibilities so that I learned to smile during needful tasks that I didn't really want to do.)

Old photographs tell remarkable stories. This photograph of my parents and me from the most festive day of the year reveals what a special observation it was. All three of us are wearing hats. Dad and Mother have on their suits with him sporting the necessary tie. My frilly dress with its full skirt held out by a can-can exuded the joyfulness of the day. Dad had purchased corsages for Mother, Grandma, and me. Mine was a replica of a bunny with stiff ribbon forming its ears.

Always egg decorating and subsequent hunting, sometimes cuddly stuffed animals, new Easter frocks (my grandfather, Calvin Callcayah Smith always referred to our new Easter dresses in that way), and usually a special candy treat highlighted memories from the spring season’s holidays. Yet always we knew in our home, the main reason for Easter was the resurrection of Jesus. Dad most usually referred to Sunday as “the Lord’s Day.” That moniker for Sunday originated with the first Easter.

The first day of the week began to be called The Lord’s Day following the resurrection of Jesus on a Sunday. Each of the four gospels record the women approaching the tomb early on the first day of the week, only to be startled to find the stone rolled away and alarmed at the empty tomb. Later that day, in the evening, the frightened disciples hid in a locked room to avoid the same fate of their Master. Suddenly, the resurrected Christ appeared in the middle of them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

Each Lord’s Day provides an opportunity to reboot with a group of people who like myself needs to be reminded only Jesus, the Prince of Peace, can bring lasting calm and assurance to our hearts. Each day as we spend time with Him in His Word and prayer, we sense a deep-seated awareness that the peace of the Perfect One who endured shame and pain for our sins can permeate our day. How many times during a chaotic moment, following a cruel outburst aimed at us, or a sudden earth-shattering crisis must we stop and recall the words of Christ as recorded in John 14:27 –

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.

I do not give peace to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

As we celebrate the day Jesus came back to life after being sacrificed willingly for our sins on the cross, may we renew our commitment to daily turn to Him for the only peace that will enable us to navigate a world full of fear, uncertainty, and turmoil.

Lord, I trust what You did on the cross to pay for my sins. I receive the gift of salvation that only You can give even though I don’t deserve Your forgiveness. I know I can do nothing to earn eternal life from You. Each day, may I look to Your Word to know Your plan for me, choosing to be aware of Your peace. Give me courage and strength to resist the incessant pull of society’s unrelenting demand to compromise and cave in to the destructive thought pattern. That prevalent damaging thinking relegates me to stress, depression, with the constant search for acceptance yet never attaining it and being left with a sickening feeling of inadequacy in most areas of my life. Jesus, just as You brought peace to the frightened disciples on that first Easter evening, I commit to hear and live by Your words of “Peace be with You,” even if I have to “restart” (confess my wrong thinking and renew my pledge to rely on You and obey Your words) frequently throughout the day.