All the Flowers in the World

By Liz Cowen Furman –

We journeyed to our little motel full of hopes that the aging plumbing and electrical systems had weathered the winter and would spring to life as easily as they had the year before. Jake, my 20 year-old nephew, was coming to Wyoming with us to work for the season. This was his first time to visit the gorgeous country we are so blessed to live in during the summers. I warned him that it was back-breaking work, with long hours, especially that first week. But I had no idea…

After traveling 12 hours we pulled the van into the driveway of the motel just as the sun was setting. We managed to get the power up and running, but because we have to be present when the water comes on, in case of major leaks, we had to wait until the next morning to get the plumbing going. Fortunately, the rain collection bucket near the apartment was full to overflowing so we could have a “flush.”

The next morning, we were so sad to discover that the folks we hired to blow out the pipes waited too long the previous fall. We had SEVERAL major leaks to contend with. Joints blown out by water left in the pipes when that first hard freeze happened meant three days of crawling under the motel, partly on my belly, trying to locate and repair leaks. I discovered that if I wore long sleeves and pants, gloves and a hat, I wouldn’t get bitten by any little critters under there. All this with no shower. I’m sure I was a charming sight (and smell). I, however, now know how to repair ANY part of a toilet, sink, and (amazing to me!) the large intake valve to an 80-gallon water heater. Every cloud has a silver lining.

If our little family motel in Dubois, Wyoming has taught me anything, it is that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13 NKJV).
As I crawled along under the motel, I kept thinking about the million other things I should be doing to get ready for our first reservations to arrive on June 1st . Like planting the flats and flats of flowers wilting in their little pots. But the water has to come first. It’s the funniest thing, if there is no water for our guests to take a shower in and drink, all the flowers in the world won’t make a difference, but when there is water the flowers are an amazing addition.

Kind of like our lives, if we don’t have Christ, all the fluff of the world isn’t worth a thing, but become best friends with the Creator of the universe, and suddenly there is a kind of joy, even in hardships, that outshines anything the world can offer.

Every year opening the motel is an adventure, and every year I find many similarities between running our business and running our lives. Both always go better with Jesus at the helm.

To my Friend

By Peter Lundell –

The one you loved has gone, slipped into another world that most of us anticipate yet oddly avoid until we have no choice. But you have taught us that either way we’re in God’s hands.

You and I live by the words we speak and write, yet her last squeeze of your hand went without them. In the face of eternity, it seems that all of life is irony.

Many days have now passed. Friends and family have held you well. God has held you. After the condolences and final good-byes, after we’ve gone home and hung up the phone, when the room is quiet, are you alone? Or does her scent linger in the closet, her shadow smile from a chair? Does the other half of the bed feel like a wilderness, or does her memory snuggle like a warm blanket?

Do you hear her voice echo in your inner ear? Do you embrace her in your heart? A memory can tenaciously defy a world that goes on without the one we have loved.

When the joy of a memory competes with the sadness of an event, which one wins? Surely memories themselves are real. How else could they reach past death to hold hands with hope and choose to look forward and smile?

Perhaps you feel God’s strength more than before––because you have to. Are the solitary footprints behind you your own or those of Jesus? Or are they somehow the same?

Someday you will go too. Another day will take me. And every last one of us. What matters is how we live until then. Tears in this life are brief, and we have all eternity to party. Until then we run our race and fulfill our purpose. We do not fear life. We do not fear death. Because we are in God’s hands.

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one” (John 10:27-30 NIV).

“Lord, teach me to always remember that my life is in Your Hands. In good times. In bad times. You are not only there; I am in Your hands, and no one can snatch me out of them.”

Glue

By Elaine James –

“Faith, get on your mat!” I yelled at the dog.

She ran to her mat, sat down and looked at me with those puppy eyes as if she was saying, “Look, I’m in my safe zone. You can’t touch me now.”

Did you play “it” or “tag” as a kid? To play the game, someone had to be “it” and the one important thing you needed to know was the location of “glue” which is your safe zone. Glue was the spot you touched or hung onto so you couldn’t get tagged by “it.” You’re out if you get tagged. You win if you don’t get tagged.

That is what I thought of in that moment when I stared at the dog. She was in her safe zone.
I have played the game as a child. The game is different as an adult. My mind is the playground where instead of getting tagged by kids, I get tagged by the evil one. He catches me and I am out; it feels like I am inundated with all sorts of negative thoughts. As a child after I got tagged I was out. I liken being “out” to not feeling secure in life. When I’m insecure others’ comments, betrayals, stubbornness, impatience, bad moods…make me feel out! The Holy Spirit reminds me to go to the B.I.B.L.E, which can be an acronym for “Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.” I run to God, I get glued, and then I am in a safe zone where I cannot get tagged.

When I awake at night and my mind is racing I focus on Him because He alone calms my racing thoughts. My approach is to acknowledge God by practicing the presence of Him. I do this by singing a hymn, praising, thanking, and praying to Him. I know the power of praying scripture and I find that this is the perfect time to pray for others too.

“The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (Psalm 46:11 NIV). At one point in my life I focused on this verse and asked myself if God is my fortress, what would it be like to be in God’s fortress? I let my mind wander further. What would it look like, who would be allowed in? I feel physically safe and that can be attributed to the Lord. This verse was my safe zone and I was stuck to God.

With all that said, I look at my darling dog with my puppy eyes and bark back “I’m glued to Jesus. He’s my free zone and you can’t bother me.”

Warning: The devil’s version of “it” still exists. Don’t be caught in the game. Stay glued in your safe zone, a place you can stick to Him!

Prayer: Lord Almighty help me to remember You are with me; You are my fortress. I want to stay glued to You and be in Your safe zone. Teach me. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

The Goodness of Imperfect Fathers

By Carol McClain –

My father wasn’t perfect—he drank too much, smoked unfiltered cigarettes and died too soon. However, these aren’t the moments I recall. Much of the goodness in me and my family is the direct result of him.

He adored my mother. I remember him coming home from work, and we kids would crow for his attention. We received our hugs and kisses, but then he got to Mom. He’d hold her in his arms and they’d cuddle and smooch—none of us existed in that moment. Their love came first.

His interests centered on his boat—and the boat meant family time. We spent summers sailing the Long Island Sound, fishing—we’d fish, he’d bait our hooks and remove our catch. Then we’d picnic on sandbars. As the commander in the Long Island Coast Guard Auxiliary, he modeled his dedication to altruistic causes.

He’d arrive home from work at the same time daily. The great joy of my life was to “surprise” him by walking the half-mile to the main road to meet him.

His positive traits inspired me.

He consciously taught me not to smoke by showing me the tar his cigarettes produced.

My husband, Neil, bought a boat, and it’s the one motorized entertainment I relish. And today, when Neil’s return from work nears, I grab the dog and walk down the route he takes. I feel a childhood joy in meeting my love, of cherishing my faithfulness to my spouse.

These are heirlooms I can finger, joys that play out in my life today, details that show my father’s impact.

And how about you, fathers? You see your flaws, and honestly, so do your children. But they see your goodness and both will impact them for the rest of their lives. Strengthen the good.

“Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. 13 “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed” (Heb 12:12-13).

Unbroken by the Storm

By Diane Mayfield –

When I first started coming to Navarre Beach, I was drawn to the mounds of broken shells I saw. They appeared in little groupings, like villages, up and down the shoreline. They were beautiful in their diverse colors and shapes, lying on top of each other, as if to form a whole community.

Because I was then struggling with Christian brothers and sisters at that time, I saw those broken shells as Christian communities. Like those shells, we too are broken when we come to Christ, desperate in our need for a Savior. While He does His mighty work in us, we still have weaknesses that keep us from being holy and complete.

Mercy, compassion and a good dose of humility filled my heart because of those broken shells. I saw my Christian brothers and sisters and, most of all, I saw myself, just like them.

This trip I’m drawn to the unbroken shells. Not because I’m now into being perfect. Oh no, it’s for quite another reason.

I just started Beth Moore’s study of James. The first lesson begins with quite a punch. “Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance” (NIV James 1:2). She goes on to make the point that trials will come. That’s life. God uses those trials to perfect us. It’s our faith that gets us through those storms of life.

By abiding in Him through trust and prayer, we will come through those storms unbroken, like the shells. Hurricane Isaac sent his forceful wind, rain and storm surges up and down the Gulf Coast a few weeks before I arrived. Navarre Beach felt his impact. Debris litters the sand as a result of Isaac’s power. The shoreline eroded in places and parts of the beach vanished.

And yet, there in the sand, I discovered hundreds, probably thousands but who’s really counting, of unbroken shells. Those shells made it through the storm unscathed. They spoke to me of the lesson I began. I, too, can come through the storms of life, the various trials, unbroken. When I persevere in faith, Jesus turns those trials into joy for what He is completing in me. It doesn’t mean I won’t feel pain or experience negative emotions. But, like Louie Zamperini in the book Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand, I will come out of my storms, whole in Jesus.

Hence, this time the unbroken shells call to me. They made it through the storm and so can we all because of our wonderful Savior Jesus.

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