Blueprint Through the Ages

By Makenzie Allen –

“The fact is fiction.” –Switchfoot

In the field of science there are many examples of facts being rooted in emotions thus creating the contradictory statement, “The fact is fiction.” Many people are set on denying God, and for this reason we have evolutionists. Evolutionists like to claim that they have the evidence and creation scientists don’t. Evolutionists have the facts, we have the religion. When in reality, they have the religion; we have the relationship plus evidence for a Creator.

Why evolutionists see the need to believe they evolved from apes, I’m not sure. What I do know is that evolutionists don’t want to accept that there is a God and that He is above them. This kind of biased outlook should have never been allowed to take over such a large portion of the scientific community.

The scientific method starts with a question, makes a hypothesis, conducts a series of experiments, analyzes the results, and finally, draws a conclusion. This solid way of proving facts is not being used in modern science often enough. Instead of following the blueprint, scientists are following their emotions.

God doesn’t want us to be robotic, He gave us emotions and they are good. However, emotions should not be used to make conclusions without comparing them to what the Bible says. Just as scientists should follow the blueprint of the scientific method, we should follow the blueprint of God’s Word.

My childhood dog passed away recently, just barely missing my eighteenth birthday. In my mind, it almost signifies the end of being a kid. The problem with this thought is that I love being a little girl. And I loved having my puppy sitting beside me when I stayed up late into the night writing these articles. Emotion and I have been in close proximity these past few months. I have to say, it is a tiring relationship.

Emotions can be draining, but God’s Word is so reviving! Words written by inspired men thousands of years past still have the ability to remedy my festering emotions. As I continue to miss my dog, I am reminded of God’s perfect plan and mercy towards me. The Bible is God’s blueprint for overcoming the death and decay we see around us today; it is the only way I am set free from emotions that would leave me crippled and captive.

My emotions have never left me longing for the relation between man and ape, but they have caused many other circumstances that could be labeled as fact becoming fiction. There is friction between truth and falsehood, fact and fiction, evidence and impulse.

“The Word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12 KJV).

The Word of God is a sword that divides the truth from the false. It is sharp and piercing, able to cut through fiction and nonfiction and discern which is which. What a comfort it is to know that God has given me the truth to combat my emotions. The blueprint of the ages is available to all who long for structure founded on truth.

“The fact is fiction.” Not so with my God!

The Dance of Gratitude

By Diane Mayfield –

I start planning for Thanksgiving dinner in August. I think about which kids I get to have home with us, if we are going to the Thanksgiving Day football game and what time the game is so I’ll know when to plan dinner. Last year we had dinner on Friday. This year I have a small group for Thanksgiving Day, so we are going to the Four Seasons Hotel for its fabulous lunch before the game. No cooking and cleaning for me this year. Woo Hoo!

Thanksgiving isn’t just about the food, but it typically gets most of my attention. I don’t think about what I’m thankful for until the day of Thanksgiving. As Christians, the Bible says giving thanks is to be part of our every day existence. In fact, praise and thanksgiving is the posture we take to come to our Father. “In every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (NIV Philippians 4:6b).

For a year I faithfully wrote a gratitude journal. Then, for some reason, I quit. This day, I am thankful that I was reminded to start it up again.

I’ve been listening to The Power of Vulnerability by Brene Brown. She talks about foreboding joy, which is basically sabotaging those moments when we experience a little taste of heaven by projecting a future catastrophe. The antithesis to foreboding joy is gratitude. Now Brene is not writing from a Christian perspective, but the truth she presents is very biblical. She speaks of practicing gratitude and her suggestion is to start a gratitude journal. I believe God was nudging me back to my discipline of writing in my gratitude journal again.

So I started writing each morning. I’ve been doing it for a week now. As a result, I am more mindful throughout the day of the blessings that come my way. Here’s an example: My sister came into town at my request to help me with painting, cleaning and decluttering my Alzheimer diseased mom’s room at her assisted living facility. Those of you who have lived with and through this disease understand what I’m up against just saying those words. If you have not experience it, think about what it’s like to clean up a toddler’s room with the toddler present. Impossible!

After two days of working together and feeling very satisfied with our accomplishment, we sat in the car exhausted, looked at each other and said, “I’m so grateful we could do this together.” Truly, at that moment, gratitude ruled our hearts and not exhaustion.

I took it even further. For that moment, I believe the Sovereign God of the Universe knew I would need a sister to go through these times with me as the oldest in the family. We have a brother, too, but let’s face it, guys just don’t take care of elderly mothers in the same way women do. I for one feel so blessed to have my sister to go through this very difficult time with me. I am so grateful we have each other to lean on.

During this Thanksgiving season, I hope you will take some time from the meal planning to create your own gratitude journal. I have even set my phone to alert me every day at noon to stop and reflect on what I am grateful for in the moment. I know many of you have probably practiced this for years. I’m just now getting back to this dance of gratitude. Come join me if you have not started.

Impartial Eyes

By Makenzie Allen –

Sitting beside a rosy-cheeked, bubbly little girl, I listen as she describes things about her room that bring an element of excitement to her childhood. One by one, she introduces me to her dolls who are all tucked in bed. Moving from one thing to another, she reaches her bookshelf and pulls out her favorite book. On the cover stands the main character. With a smile she says, “I always pretend she is you.” In that moment I am struck by the realization that she claimed me as the living, breathing version of her favorite character. I feel a grin spread across my face that beams with happiness at her admission.

Something I’ve noticed recently is how real children are. They don’t plaster on a smile when they are upset, nor do they say things just to gain an alliance. If something is on their mind, they say it without hesitation. The more I think about it, the more I realize how refreshing that kind of honesty is.

Scary as it can be, she looks up to me. And I wonder how many times I haven’t been the kind of example I should be for her and other children. How can I be worth looking up to? What can I do to be a true and beneficial example?

Walking along the lake with my little cousin, I look down at her tiny hand clutching mine. My heart melts at this small gesture of companionship. Peering up at me through blue eyes, she giggles at the silly face I make. And she laughs some more as I reach down and weave sticks through my hair. In her slowly improving speech, I hear her say, “Makie so silly.” Makie. I love it when she calls me that. And on we walk, everyone thinking I’m the one blessing her when really, it’s just the opposite.

Have you noticed the moment a child accepts you, a day that felt like failure practically shouts with success? For me, not many other things bring more happiness than when a child decides that I seem fun to be with. Maybe it’s because I know that the friendship they give isn’t just for show. They truly want to be with me, not because of what I look like or who I’m associated with, but because they enjoy my company. It’s as if children see things through impartial eyes, worldly qualifications don’t matter to them. It is so reviving to see how children look at the heart, just as God does.

The Prettiest Mann I Know

By Mary Sefzik –

Some people come into our lives and quickly go, but others leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never the same. I met such a person my freshman year of high school. I heard about Melissa Mann through a mutual friend and was excited when my Braille teacher, Linda, arranged for us to meet.

Melissa greeted me with a big hug. “I’m so happy to meet you.” Her voice always sounded as if she were smiling.

I felt drawn to this positive, bubbly, blind lady who had overcome so many obstacles: diabetes, two kidney transplants, and multiple heart stints.

Melissa was a shining witness for Christ and the story of her kidney transplant is a testimony in itself. She recounted the day the doctor examined her chart and slammed the door in frustration. He discovered her kidneys were functioning at only eight percent. She should have been on dialysis much earlier. Almost 16 months later her doctor delivered more bad news. Her heart had swollen. Without a new kidney she had six weeks to live. Then a miracle happened. Two small kidneys belonging to a three-year-old child were available. Those kidneys, which Melissa affectionately named, Bert and Ernie, gave her nearly twenty years of life.

Melissa never met a stranger. One evening we were so engrossed in our dinner conversation the waiter couldn’t get a word in edgewise. When Melissa realized he was ready to take our order she said, “I’m Melissa and this is Mary. We’re two blind women who love to talk so if you have something to say just jump right in and say it. We won’t mind.”

Her joy always encouraged me. “Melissa,” I confided one day. “I’m so tired of waiting. I’ve been looking for a job for a year and a half.”

“Mary, at times like these you need to hang on to God. Hold on tight now, and give Him the reins to your life. He promises in His Word that He will never leave us or forsake us.” Tears stung my eyes as she shared this gem of truth.

“Do you know what keeps me going through all of this?” she continued. “As long as Jesus is in my life, everything’s going to be all right. St. Paul says it doesn’t matter whether I live or die because I’ll be with Jesus whatever happens. And those of us who are believers, we’ll be together forever. Sure that time when we’re apart will be tough. We’ll miss each other, but honey, we’ll all be together forever in the end.”

Melissa is with her Savior now enjoying a new glorified body. I know I will see her again in heaven. Until then I will strive to leave my own set of Christ-honoring footprints on the lives of those around me.

The Feeding Frenzy

By Diane Mayfield –

Five women got their bags packed and out the door by 6:15 AM to make a 7:10 flight from Vail to Fort Worth. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time to turn in our rental car, check our bags and go through security with time to spare.

We were on the plane, headed down the runway right on schedule. Then it happened. The captain comes on the speaker and says, “Folks, there seems to be a problem in the instrument panel. We have to return to the gate.”

The return to the gate ended up being a six-hour flight delay out of Vail. The good news is that we did get to disembark.

Once back in the waiting area, all five of us sit against the wall with our electronics plugged in and charging. We look like little ducklings (maybe not so little) all lined up in a row. It’s 10:00 and I am hungry. We all are. We’ve been up since five. In this tiny airport there is one choice for food, a tiny coffee shop with pre-made sandwiches. That was not going to work for me. I have celiac disease and have to eat gluten free.

I start the hunt. First I find out that I can have food delivered, but it must pass through security like everyone and everything else. Now I have to find the food. Pizza is the logical choice. It’s easy to deliver and many places now offer gluten free pizzas.

After about an hour of searching, I finally find a place open and close by that serves gluten free pizzas. The only problem is that a major bike race is happening and traffic is an issue. The restaurant owner wants a guaranteed order of $100 to deliver the pizza to us.

That is not stopping me. I’ll gladly pay. Then it hits me; everyone else is going to be hungry too. I shout out to other passengers in the waiting areas. “Anyone interested in purchasing pizza slices if I order it?” The number of yeses convinces me I would at least break even. I place the order, and forty-five minutes later, pizza arrives.

When I look at the slices, I know I can’t charge people the five dollars per slice I was going to originally. My four traveling companions, who obviously have better business sense than I, aren’t initially too happy paying the lion’s share of feeding the masses. That is until it is over and they witness with me what happens.

In the pizza frenzy and afterwards, the atmosphere in that waiting room completely changes. The dreariness of waiting shifts to lightheartedness, smiles and laughter. People come up to us and share some of their stories. Chatter fills the once silent room. The little children run by us and say hi. In an hour, a community is formed among strangers.

We all laugh, commenting that this is a little like feeding the five thousand.

Five sisters in Christ traveling home from a girls’ trip already full and rich with blessing, received another one. We built a memory that will carry us through the years of living life together. I can’t help wondering if that same sense of community occurred among the followers of Jesus that day He broke bread and fed the multitudes.

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