Our Golden Retriever, Sadie, discovered her hunting, retrieving and stalking traits. Unfortunately, she also uncovered a nest of baby bunnies under our storage building. We had noticed for a few weeks a rabbit hopping in and out of our fenced in back yard and I figured it was because we planted a small garden. It seems now we have a family of rabbits and a problem. The baby bunnies found their way out from under their safe haven and Sadie discovered a new play thing. While sitting at the table with Todd as he ate a late supper with us recently, I glanced out the back door to see our dog with a very small animal in her mouth, tossing it about and playing with it.
“Oh, no, she’s killed a mouse and brought it to the door!” Taking a closer look, the ‘mouse’ had no ‘mouse tail’. “Oh, NO! SHE’S GOT A BUNNY RABBIT!” I bemoaned.
Todd calmly continues to fork his chicken while Boaz, (almost 10) and Dennis and I run to the rescue. As soon as we open the door, Sadie takes off for the back of the yard with bunny in her mouth. By the time the guys reach her, she had swallowed it whole. YUCK! I could not stand the thought of it, so I just stood at the patio rail and watched as Dennis and Boaz searched for what we figured Sadie continued to search for…more bunnies for dessert. I didn’t speak to my dog for a whole day, I was so upset.
Todd slices off another piece of warm homemade bread, butters it and never moves from the table, assuring me that; “That’s what dogs do, Momma, they hunt. Lizzie (their Dalmatian) killed a chipmunk yesterday”.
Sadie did find another bunny, played with it, punctured it and finally gave it up to Todd who handed it into the tender hands of Boaz who put it in a box to take home and nurse back to health?? At first they tried to put it over the fence so Momma Rabbit would come get it and take care of it. Momma Rabbit wasn’t coming near the fence with canine carnivore anywhere near.
Baby bunny became ‘Hoppy’ and grew, thriving under the attention of five children…for about two weeks, at which time Hoppy passed away, much to the children’s grief. He joined Duke and a plethora of other pets in the Lynn menagerie memorial park cemetery.
Lessons to be learned from observing pets, parents and grandchildren: Just a few from this instance intrigued me. I was horrified when our Retriever followed her natural instincts, bringing her catch home. I like bunnies! I love my dog, but I couldn’t bear the thought of one killing the other and swallowing it whole. Why am I so shocked at normal canine behavior?
Why am I so shocked at the behavior of people who just ‘do what comes naturally’? Because there but for the grace of God go I! This ole girl is only a sinner saved by grace. There is a hymn our choir used to sing in McCormick entitled, WERE IT NOT FOR GRACE. Oh, what a testimony it is for our day and time.
Why am I so shocked when my children remind me of things that we taught them? Or, perish the thought! Maybe they learned it without us. The parent becomes the pupil and the child pontificates truths. The young shepherd boy, and Psalmist, David, demonstrated ‘spiritual warfare’ in the face of Goliath much to the chagrin of his king, then later learned to soothe King Saul by playing and singing to him.
Why am I so shocked when my grandchildren show a natural, tender desire to ’rescue the perishing’? Do you remember the little boy who gave his loaves and fishes to rescue a hungry crowd? My grandchildren reveal a generosity of spirit that warms my heart.
Thank You, Father, for teaching me such lessons from everyday experiences in such a profound way. Keep my heart open and receptive to see and hear voices of truth you have for me.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
My First Cup of Coffee Is the Best
May 24, 2011---HEART THOUGHTS…from Helen
The first cup of coffee in the morning is the best! If you have a timer on your coffee maker, you can rise to the wonderful aroma of fresh brewed java. I like to heat our cups before pouring. As my arthritic fingers fold around the warm cup, the heat soothes the stiffness first thing at the break of day. In these latter days my taste buds really like half and half in my brew, but just to ease my conscience, I get fat free half and half. I know, I know, that defeats the whole purpose, but it makes me feel less guilty. When I sit down and sip the first sip, there’s just nothing quite as full flavored and satisfying early in the morning. The first fruits of the day…the first cup of coffee…the first thoughts in my minds turn toward having a little talk with Jesus. Thanking Him for the blessings of that first cup of coffee comes first. Now, I’m not a real hardened coffee aficionado and I don’t drink it all day nor in the evening, but I do like that first cup. None tastes as good as the first.
It reminds me of how the Lord instructed us to “Bring the best of the first fruits of your soil”… (Exodus 23:10). I rather understand that in a finite fashion. If I enjoy the first cup of coffee, the first biscuit out of the oven, the crusty hot piece of cornbread straight from the pan, the early morning tousled heads of grandchildren climbing in my lap, the early glow of daylight as the sun creeps in from the eastern sky, why wouldn’t the God of all grace, the Creator of coffee beans and cups and creamer covet the first and best of me, the crown of His creation? Think about it the next time you pour your first cup.
The first cup of coffee in the morning is the best! If you have a timer on your coffee maker, you can rise to the wonderful aroma of fresh brewed java. I like to heat our cups before pouring. As my arthritic fingers fold around the warm cup, the heat soothes the stiffness first thing at the break of day. In these latter days my taste buds really like half and half in my brew, but just to ease my conscience, I get fat free half and half. I know, I know, that defeats the whole purpose, but it makes me feel less guilty. When I sit down and sip the first sip, there’s just nothing quite as full flavored and satisfying early in the morning. The first fruits of the day…the first cup of coffee…the first thoughts in my minds turn toward having a little talk with Jesus. Thanking Him for the blessings of that first cup of coffee comes first. Now, I’m not a real hardened coffee aficionado and I don’t drink it all day nor in the evening, but I do like that first cup. None tastes as good as the first.
It reminds me of how the Lord instructed us to “Bring the best of the first fruits of your soil”… (Exodus 23:10). I rather understand that in a finite fashion. If I enjoy the first cup of coffee, the first biscuit out of the oven, the crusty hot piece of cornbread straight from the pan, the early morning tousled heads of grandchildren climbing in my lap, the early glow of daylight as the sun creeps in from the eastern sky, why wouldn’t the God of all grace, the Creator of coffee beans and cups and creamer covet the first and best of me, the crown of His creation? Think about it the next time you pour your first cup.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Elderly Examples
May 13, 2011
Daniel 9:2-3 “I, Daniel, understood from the Scriptures, according to the word of the Lord given to Jeremiah the prophet that the desolation of Jerusalem would last seventy years. So I turned to the Lord God and pleaded with him in prayer and petition, in fasting, and in sackcloth and ashes. “
Last night I read the streaming message on the bottom of the television screen that ninety-two year old Billy Graham suffers from pneumonia and is hospitalized in North Carolina. Always interested in his ministry and family, I prayed for all of them during this difficult time. Just this week I received his daughter, Anne’s, newsletter. I read with great interest all that goes on in AnGel Ministries. Also, the news media seems to seek out Franklin Graham more and more for political opinions. Praise God for the witness and godly example of this entire family. My family has been influenced by that family.
The Old Testament prophet, Daniel stands among the greatest of examples that God gives us when it comes to men of strong godly character in the face of overwhelming odds even in their later years. After seventy years in Babylonian exile, Daniel demonstrates how standing tall is done. The first three verses of chapter nine describe Daniel’s continuing character into old age. While studying that chapter this morning I thought immediately of a modern day Daniel…The Reverend Billy Graham.
Daniel knew his politics. Whether or not he sought out the political arena, he seemed to have been ‘thrown into it’ a number of times. I found it interesting that the news scroll that stated Mr. Graham’s physical condition, included the fact that he had met with almost every U. S. President in office during his ministry. I’m quite sure that whatever influence he had stands out in their minds, whether or not they followed any counsel he offered.
The prophet Daniel obviously knew God’s Word. He searched and knew the prophecies of Jeremiah so well that on his calendar, the time of his people’s exile was about to expire. So, what did he do? Daniel turned to the Lord God and pleaded for his people. Daniel, an old man, demonstrates the dire circumstances of a nation, and a people that need deliverance.
I cannot count the times The Billy Graham Evangelistic Association seeks prayer for this nation and the nations of the world to come back to the Lord God Almighty. The overwhelming example of prayer through the years goes beyond the pale.
I am humbled and unashamed to say that the Lord God of Daniel and the Lord God of Billy Graham is my Lord and God. Will I follow their example to be a devout example and intercessor even into my old age?
Daniel 9:2-3 “I, Daniel, understood from the Scriptures, according to the word of the Lord given to Jeremiah the prophet that the desolation of Jerusalem would last seventy years. So I turned to the Lord God and pleaded with him in prayer and petition, in fasting, and in sackcloth and ashes. “
Last night I read the streaming message on the bottom of the television screen that ninety-two year old Billy Graham suffers from pneumonia and is hospitalized in North Carolina. Always interested in his ministry and family, I prayed for all of them during this difficult time. Just this week I received his daughter, Anne’s, newsletter. I read with great interest all that goes on in AnGel Ministries. Also, the news media seems to seek out Franklin Graham more and more for political opinions. Praise God for the witness and godly example of this entire family. My family has been influenced by that family.
The Old Testament prophet, Daniel stands among the greatest of examples that God gives us when it comes to men of strong godly character in the face of overwhelming odds even in their later years. After seventy years in Babylonian exile, Daniel demonstrates how standing tall is done. The first three verses of chapter nine describe Daniel’s continuing character into old age. While studying that chapter this morning I thought immediately of a modern day Daniel…The Reverend Billy Graham.
Daniel knew his politics. Whether or not he sought out the political arena, he seemed to have been ‘thrown into it’ a number of times. I found it interesting that the news scroll that stated Mr. Graham’s physical condition, included the fact that he had met with almost every U. S. President in office during his ministry. I’m quite sure that whatever influence he had stands out in their minds, whether or not they followed any counsel he offered.
The prophet Daniel obviously knew God’s Word. He searched and knew the prophecies of Jeremiah so well that on his calendar, the time of his people’s exile was about to expire. So, what did he do? Daniel turned to the Lord God and pleaded for his people. Daniel, an old man, demonstrates the dire circumstances of a nation, and a people that need deliverance.
I cannot count the times The Billy Graham Evangelistic Association seeks prayer for this nation and the nations of the world to come back to the Lord God Almighty. The overwhelming example of prayer through the years goes beyond the pale.
I am humbled and unashamed to say that the Lord God of Daniel and the Lord God of Billy Graham is my Lord and God. Will I follow their example to be a devout example and intercessor even into my old age?
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Prayer
When Preacher Blalock prayed, we stood in a circle and held hands. I could literally feel the power of the Holy Spirit through the touch of this God’s aged saint.
We visited in his home on various occasions while we served our first church and Dennis attended seminary. J.C. Blalock’s wise and Godly counsel always encouraged us, but it was his prayers that strengthened us for ministry. Have you ever pictured how our prayers come to the Father? Perhaps you feel that some prayers never rise above the ceiling, or if they do they’re lost on the wings of chance. I found a passage of Scripture that speaks beautifully to that question. It shows me just how precious to the father are the prayers of His saints. Revelation 5:8, “When he had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders prostrated themselves before the Lamb. Each of them had a harp, and they had golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints.”
Prayers in golden bowls rising as sacred perfume to the senses of God are our feeble utterances offered in faith to the Father, bringing Him pleasure. Amazing!
I can see Preacher Blalock smiling now from on High as he remembers filling so many golden bowls of incense. Perhaps he even enjoys the sweet smelling savor as our prayers rise even now.
O Father, accept these pitiful prayers as golden bowls of perfume offered on behalf of your present day disciples.
We visited in his home on various occasions while we served our first church and Dennis attended seminary. J.C. Blalock’s wise and Godly counsel always encouraged us, but it was his prayers that strengthened us for ministry. Have you ever pictured how our prayers come to the Father? Perhaps you feel that some prayers never rise above the ceiling, or if they do they’re lost on the wings of chance. I found a passage of Scripture that speaks beautifully to that question. It shows me just how precious to the father are the prayers of His saints. Revelation 5:8, “When he had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders prostrated themselves before the Lamb. Each of them had a harp, and they had golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints.”
Prayers in golden bowls rising as sacred perfume to the senses of God are our feeble utterances offered in faith to the Father, bringing Him pleasure. Amazing!
I can see Preacher Blalock smiling now from on High as he remembers filling so many golden bowls of incense. Perhaps he even enjoys the sweet smelling savor as our prayers rise even now.
O Father, accept these pitiful prayers as golden bowls of perfume offered on behalf of your present day disciples.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better
The Highway Department resurfaced our section of Highway #101 north. It needed it badly. Potholes and rough road characterized the passage of vehicles of all sizes and shapes along our stretch of road. A lot of travel on a relatively narrow road lends itself toward much wear and tear.
My heart goes out to those flagmen who stand, holding that sign, SLOW! STOP! For hours on end noisy highway department trucks backed up, stopped, hauled, men shoveled, doing their job. “LET ‘EM WORK; LET ‘EM LIVE” takes on new meaning if you’re one of those who holds that sign or if you’re the one working in the middle of the road while all the traffic rolls past you giving you the jaundiced eye and more dirty looks than you can shake a stick at. You’d think the world had come to an end because the road is ‘under construction’ and you have to slow down.
I had to sit for at least five minutes, waiting to drive ¼ mile to get to our subdivision because of the resurfacing crew. HORRORS! The lady in front of me couldn’t turn into her own driveway because of the construction crew. You’d think they’d be more considerate, huh?!
Well, the road roughened considerably before the work crew finished it’s thankless task. At first they addressed the specific potholes in the road, which caused sections to be resurfaced. That caused bumps in the road, not to mention the aesthetics of the thing. It looked really awful. One lane of traffic for a mile frustrates the driving public unbelievably. Stop and go; stop and go. ROUGH ROAD AHEAD
And then it was finished! Ahh, the pleasure of riding on smooth surface.
Life is so much like that. Continual wear and tear on life, marriages, parenting, and church politics creates dangerously rough roads. Stop and go, slow down, be patient, let go and let God. LET HIM WORK, LET US LIVE. You think it can’t get any worse and then of course, it does. It gets worse before it gets better.
It happened like that on crucifixion day. The Via Dolorosa took on a macabre procession of Stop and Go traffic, loud shouts, gut wrenching grief and horrible dread of what lay ahead. We know that the worst was yet to be on that ‘Good Friday’.
And yet, the best was yet to be on that Resurrection Sunday when Jesus paved the way for our resurrection. God the Father knew what He was doing in spite of what everyone thought. Because life became unbearable for Jesus, my Lord, life in Christ is possible for me …and for you.
It had to get worse before it got better. Can you wait three days? “It is finished!” (John 19:20 NIV)
My heart goes out to those flagmen who stand, holding that sign, SLOW! STOP! For hours on end noisy highway department trucks backed up, stopped, hauled, men shoveled, doing their job. “LET ‘EM WORK; LET ‘EM LIVE” takes on new meaning if you’re one of those who holds that sign or if you’re the one working in the middle of the road while all the traffic rolls past you giving you the jaundiced eye and more dirty looks than you can shake a stick at. You’d think the world had come to an end because the road is ‘under construction’ and you have to slow down.
I had to sit for at least five minutes, waiting to drive ¼ mile to get to our subdivision because of the resurfacing crew. HORRORS! The lady in front of me couldn’t turn into her own driveway because of the construction crew. You’d think they’d be more considerate, huh?!
Well, the road roughened considerably before the work crew finished it’s thankless task. At first they addressed the specific potholes in the road, which caused sections to be resurfaced. That caused bumps in the road, not to mention the aesthetics of the thing. It looked really awful. One lane of traffic for a mile frustrates the driving public unbelievably. Stop and go; stop and go. ROUGH ROAD AHEAD
And then it was finished! Ahh, the pleasure of riding on smooth surface.
Life is so much like that. Continual wear and tear on life, marriages, parenting, and church politics creates dangerously rough roads. Stop and go, slow down, be patient, let go and let God. LET HIM WORK, LET US LIVE. You think it can’t get any worse and then of course, it does. It gets worse before it gets better.
It happened like that on crucifixion day. The Via Dolorosa took on a macabre procession of Stop and Go traffic, loud shouts, gut wrenching grief and horrible dread of what lay ahead. We know that the worst was yet to be on that ‘Good Friday’.
And yet, the best was yet to be on that Resurrection Sunday when Jesus paved the way for our resurrection. God the Father knew what He was doing in spite of what everyone thought. Because life became unbearable for Jesus, my Lord, life in Christ is possible for me …and for you.
It had to get worse before it got better. Can you wait three days? “It is finished!” (John 19:20 NIV)
Monday, April 4, 2011
HEART THOUGHTS from Helen
"Daddy's Corn"
“For in Him, all the fullness of the Deity dwells in bodily form. And you are complete in Him.” Colossians 2: 9-10
My daddy grew the best corn ever! Silver Queen and Seneca Chief, primarily, thrived in the black loamy soil of my folk’s home in northern Sumter County. I can still see him out in the corn field, checking the ears on those short stalks. He perfected the art of pulling corn at precisely the right time, when the ears matured to fullness. Then, he shucked it in the field, brought it in with a grin from ear to ear (pun intended), proud of the fullness of his corn crop. He spaced out the planting of his corn so that all didn’t come to fullness at same time. Two reasons prevailed: (1) So Mother wouldn’t be overwhelmed freezing it, either off or on the cob. (2) So we enjoyed eating fresh corn crop after crop.
Not only did Daddy grow corn, he gave away corn by the dozen of full ears, each dozen shucked and fresh from the field. I never knew him to sell his corn; he gave it away…fresh full ears, ready for enjoying. Mother had ceramic corn bowl/holders so we could keep corn off the plate and swimming in melted butter. Then there were the corn sticker things that went in each end, so as not to burn your fingers. None of this semi-warm corn on the cob. It was HOT.
My grandchildren love corn. When I don’t have fresh corn, I like to buy it frozen in those corn cob frozen shapes, because it reminds me of my daddy. I mix the creamed corn with the fried corn and they gobble it up like we did growing up and fuss because one of them got more than the other.
As I studied the second chapter of Colossians this morning and the fullness of the Deity dwelling in bodily form in Christ, the word study used the example of the corn and wine offered to Jehovah as tithe or the first fruits. (Unger’s Bible Dictionary) The word used for fullness is pleroma: total quantity, with emphasis on completeness. The whole nature and attributes of God are in Christ. In Ephesians 1:23 Paul speaks of the church, the body of believers called the fullness of Christ as it is the Church which makes a complete and perfect Head.
Seed corn put into the ground, nurtured, natured (rain/sun), and grown to completion, harvested in its fullness feeds the world. In the ‘fullness of time’ God came. In the ‘fullness of time’, Christ died and rose in completeness. His Word, the Seed, the Manna, THE CHRIST, HIMSELF, feeds us, fills us and completes us.
In the ‘fullness of time’ I died, was buried with Him in baptism, and raised in completeness with Him Who is the Head of His Body the Church. In the fullness of time, when we are exactly ripe, the Head will unite with His Body and we will dwell forever in His presence, united in Him. Until then, we rejoice knowing, “For it was the father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him.” (Col. 1:19 NAS)
“And in Him you have been made complete” (Col 2:10)
Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow.
“For in Him, all the fullness of the Deity dwells in bodily form. And you are complete in Him.” Colossians 2: 9-10
My daddy grew the best corn ever! Silver Queen and Seneca Chief, primarily, thrived in the black loamy soil of my folk’s home in northern Sumter County. I can still see him out in the corn field, checking the ears on those short stalks. He perfected the art of pulling corn at precisely the right time, when the ears matured to fullness. Then, he shucked it in the field, brought it in with a grin from ear to ear (pun intended), proud of the fullness of his corn crop. He spaced out the planting of his corn so that all didn’t come to fullness at same time. Two reasons prevailed: (1) So Mother wouldn’t be overwhelmed freezing it, either off or on the cob. (2) So we enjoyed eating fresh corn crop after crop.
Not only did Daddy grow corn, he gave away corn by the dozen of full ears, each dozen shucked and fresh from the field. I never knew him to sell his corn; he gave it away…fresh full ears, ready for enjoying. Mother had ceramic corn bowl/holders so we could keep corn off the plate and swimming in melted butter. Then there were the corn sticker things that went in each end, so as not to burn your fingers. None of this semi-warm corn on the cob. It was HOT.
My grandchildren love corn. When I don’t have fresh corn, I like to buy it frozen in those corn cob frozen shapes, because it reminds me of my daddy. I mix the creamed corn with the fried corn and they gobble it up like we did growing up and fuss because one of them got more than the other.
As I studied the second chapter of Colossians this morning and the fullness of the Deity dwelling in bodily form in Christ, the word study used the example of the corn and wine offered to Jehovah as tithe or the first fruits. (Unger’s Bible Dictionary) The word used for fullness is pleroma: total quantity, with emphasis on completeness. The whole nature and attributes of God are in Christ. In Ephesians 1:23 Paul speaks of the church, the body of believers called the fullness of Christ as it is the Church which makes a complete and perfect Head.
Seed corn put into the ground, nurtured, natured (rain/sun), and grown to completion, harvested in its fullness feeds the world. In the ‘fullness of time’ God came. In the ‘fullness of time’, Christ died and rose in completeness. His Word, the Seed, the Manna, THE CHRIST, HIMSELF, feeds us, fills us and completes us.
In the ‘fullness of time’ I died, was buried with Him in baptism, and raised in completeness with Him Who is the Head of His Body the Church. In the fullness of time, when we are exactly ripe, the Head will unite with His Body and we will dwell forever in His presence, united in Him. Until then, we rejoice knowing, “For it was the father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him.” (Col. 1:19 NAS)
“And in Him you have been made complete” (Col 2:10)
Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Heart Thoughts from Helen
HEART THOUGHTS...from Helen- March 17
...that old arrest warrant canceled and nailed to Christ's cross..." Colossians 2:14 (THE MESSAGE)
There it came, the dreaded blue flashing light; and it was RIGHT BEHIND ME. I glanced quickly at the speedometer. My speed was not over the limit. What in the world have I done now? As my brow furrowed, I took my foot off the accelerator and pulled slowly into the dirt parking lot of the roadside nursery, thoughts flashing through my mind.
Who is passing by that knows me?
What have I done?
Lord, we don't have the money for this...whatever it is.
What a morning!
Cars sped by as the young patrolman slowly approached my side of the car. I could have assured him that I wasn't going to shoot him as so many news reporters dreadfully testify. Their caution is surely understandable. These things flittered through my consciousness as I began to search for my license, watching my rear view mirror inadvertently.
"Ma'am, may I see your license, registration and insurance card?"
"Certainly", as I started digging through the glove compartment. This one...expired, that one...expired.
"I'm sure it's here somewhere." I handed him what I thought was the correct information only to find out that our tag expired in '09, the year we moved from McCormick to Greer. OH, GREAT! No up to date sticker on license plate. My heart beat faster and my face turned crimson. "Dumb old woman"...I just knew his thoughts toward me bordered on my own.
Long story shortened: Ticketed ...150 bucks. Show up in court next month with proof of insurance and maybe the judge will pardon. Don't show up, pay the fine.
For a month that blue ticket ticked me off. Turns out there had been a snafu in our records when we moved, resulting in us not receiving a tax notice, which led to our failure to pay taxes, blah, blah, blah. Now I had to go court. Since Dennis handles paperwork in our home, he immediately went to highway department and took care of the problem, and went with me to Summary Court in Simpsonville to appear before the magistrate to explain the situation.
We arrived on time. A lot of other people did also. I thought, "There's a lot of folks going through the same hassle we are; our taxes are at work on the highways and in the patrol cars". We waited and as the room filled up, I took my place in line to present my explanation and rectification of the problem. The kind faced judge sitting behind the elevated huge desk in his black robe listened to each case in this traffic court. As I waited with my manila envelope containing proof of paid taxes and my blue summons ticket I couldn't help but think of the ultimate judgment of my soul, taken care of long ago. I approached the man in black, smiled and handed him my ticket and explained the circumstances surrounding it. He looked at the ticket, and he glanced at my insurance, registration, proof of taxes paid and said, "I'll take care of it. Next...."
I turned around, smiled at my husband and we walked out of the traffic court room, freed of penalties, reconciled with the law of the land.
Praise God my debt has been paid. Jesus 'took care of it' on the cross. I accepted His judgment of my failure to pay the penalty for my sin. My soul is worth much more than $150 and He died for me, releasing me to live for him who died for me, not dreading the enemy of my soul riding up behind me, flashing his blue lights and accusing me of failure. "I'll take care of it", is music to my ears.
...that old arrest warrant canceled and nailed to Christ's cross..." Colossians 2:14 (THE MESSAGE)
There it came, the dreaded blue flashing light; and it was RIGHT BEHIND ME. I glanced quickly at the speedometer. My speed was not over the limit. What in the world have I done now? As my brow furrowed, I took my foot off the accelerator and pulled slowly into the dirt parking lot of the roadside nursery, thoughts flashing through my mind.
Who is passing by that knows me?
What have I done?
Lord, we don't have the money for this...whatever it is.
What a morning!
Cars sped by as the young patrolman slowly approached my side of the car. I could have assured him that I wasn't going to shoot him as so many news reporters dreadfully testify. Their caution is surely understandable. These things flittered through my consciousness as I began to search for my license, watching my rear view mirror inadvertently.
"Ma'am, may I see your license, registration and insurance card?"
"Certainly", as I started digging through the glove compartment. This one...expired, that one...expired.
"I'm sure it's here somewhere." I handed him what I thought was the correct information only to find out that our tag expired in '09, the year we moved from McCormick to Greer. OH, GREAT! No up to date sticker on license plate. My heart beat faster and my face turned crimson. "Dumb old woman"...I just knew his thoughts toward me bordered on my own.
Long story shortened: Ticketed ...150 bucks. Show up in court next month with proof of insurance and maybe the judge will pardon. Don't show up, pay the fine.
For a month that blue ticket ticked me off. Turns out there had been a snafu in our records when we moved, resulting in us not receiving a tax notice, which led to our failure to pay taxes, blah, blah, blah. Now I had to go court. Since Dennis handles paperwork in our home, he immediately went to highway department and took care of the problem, and went with me to Summary Court in Simpsonville to appear before the magistrate to explain the situation.
We arrived on time. A lot of other people did also. I thought, "There's a lot of folks going through the same hassle we are; our taxes are at work on the highways and in the patrol cars". We waited and as the room filled up, I took my place in line to present my explanation and rectification of the problem. The kind faced judge sitting behind the elevated huge desk in his black robe listened to each case in this traffic court. As I waited with my manila envelope containing proof of paid taxes and my blue summons ticket I couldn't help but think of the ultimate judgment of my soul, taken care of long ago. I approached the man in black, smiled and handed him my ticket and explained the circumstances surrounding it. He looked at the ticket, and he glanced at my insurance, registration, proof of taxes paid and said, "I'll take care of it. Next...."
I turned around, smiled at my husband and we walked out of the traffic court room, freed of penalties, reconciled with the law of the land.
Praise God my debt has been paid. Jesus 'took care of it' on the cross. I accepted His judgment of my failure to pay the penalty for my sin. My soul is worth much more than $150 and He died for me, releasing me to live for him who died for me, not dreading the enemy of my soul riding up behind me, flashing his blue lights and accusing me of failure. "I'll take care of it", is music to my ears.
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