All That I Am Today
(A ministry for THIS moment)
"Offering everything we are to the Lord."
most writing is by South Dakota author BJ Reese
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LOOKING BACK
MARCH 1, 2021
"Do not dwell in the past."
~ Isaiah 43:18
The message in this Scripture passage pops up often in our everyday lives. We hear it from many sources, in various forms: ‘look forward, not back’; ‘just let it go!’; or ‘don’t live in the past’, to name just a few. Great advice, right? I mean, it sounds simple enough.
But . . . have you ever tried to execute this advice? To keep your head IN the present, your eyes pointed toward the future at all times? Suddenly, it isn’t quite so simple.
If you’re going through a difficult situation, you tend to look back – longing for happier, easier times. If there was a painful event in your past, it pops up frequently and threatens your present sense of peace.
Then, when everything appears to be going good, you start looking around. Suspicion, doubt, worry, and fear creep in before you are even aware of them. “What’s gonna mess this up?”, you wonder nervously. “How long will this last? What if _______?”
It would seem that it’s impossible for us to avoid dwelling in the past. If we aren’t wallowing in anguish over how bad it was, we’re wishing desperately to have its happier times back. We are never truly satisfied with where we are at any given moment. So, what’s the secret to obeying this command from the book of Isaiah? Is there one? How do I accomplish this?
I found my answer in a most unexpected place . . . in the heart of the family dog. Specifically, let’s consider a dog who has come to the family as a rescue who was abused or neglected by his former owner.
When you first encounter this precious animal at the shelter, he is timid and fearful. His eyes hold a sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. At the same time, you see an almost desperate longing on his face. For reasons you cannot explain, you are drawn to him.
So, you sit down on the floor nearby, placing yourself at eye level with this sad, frightened pup. Then, you wait – quietly, patiently. As you speak softly, he slowly, cautiously approaches you. You stretch out your hand, and he tentatively sniffs at it . . . and inches a little closer.
Gradually, he begins to relax enough that you can attempt to touch him. As you do, your heart melts. He eases slightly into your touch, and your decision is made: this is the dog I want. You go back to the desk and do all the paperwork to adopt this adorable animal.
For the next few days, you patiently shower him with love, hoping to earn his trust. Little by little, the sadness on his face begins to dissipate. Then, one night after dinner, the magic moment comes. He comes to you with his favorite toy and drops it at your feet. Slowly, he lays his head on your knee. As you gently stroke his fur, you feel the tension drain from his body. His tail begins to thump out a steady rhythm on the floor. He is home.
What is the secret? What made this frightened pup relax and accept peace? It wasn’t accomplished by repeating the treatment he had received in the past. It was love. Your love, your kindness, your patience. In time, it convinced him that he was safe in the bosom of your family. That love washed away the pain from his past – it wiped the slate clean so he could start fresh. So he could have a new life that he could enjoy.
Even more than you love that pup, God loves you. He stands ready to care for you and provide for all your needs. To shower you with a Love that extinguishes all the flames of sorrow you feel. Through that Love, He wants to wash away all the pain from your past . . . to forget all the mistakes.
How do you connect to the peace of that promise? Seek out God in your daily life. Go to Him. Lay all those worries, sorrows, and regrets at His feet and rest in the assurance that He loves you more than you can ever imagine. In the warmth of His arms, you are home. There, it is safe to look back at your past . . . and let it go.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY
FEBRUARY 1, 2021
"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers:
for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
~ Hebrews 13:2
We’ve all heard the term “southern hospitality” at some time or another. For most of us who live in the northern-tier states, it is a rather abstract phrase that refers to being polite to people. We’ve really never seen it in action or experienced it for ourselves. While I was on the truck with Richard years ago, he and I were treated to a “front row seat” for a first-hand demonstration of how southern hospitality works.
Mother’s Day weekend, 2013, we were hauling a load of huge electrical panels from Montana. We were scheduled to deliver them to Flowood, Mississippi, on Monday, the 13th. There were three of them, each measuring 18 inches deep; 30 feet long; and 8 feet high. There were some other pieces of critical equipment on the trailer with them. Because of the delicate sensitivity of the panels, they had been separated by bars which had been welded into place, to keep them from banging into each other on the trip south.
I was thrilled to be on the truck for this load. Not only did it afford me some much-needed quality time with Richard, but I had never been to Mississippi before. He had warned me on the way down there that it was going to be a long, arduous unload. He expected it to take at least three hours to get the load off of the trailer. As things turned out, we were both in for a treat.
When we arrived at the Cesco Compressor and Engine Services facility in Flowood, a man named Johnnie Armstrong greeted us like we were old friends. After introducing himself by name, he gave Richard instructions for where to pull the truck to for unloading. Once we were parked, Johnnie explained that they had to wait on the arrival of a special piece of equipment before they could begin. A member of his crew had gone to retrieve a special coupler that would be needed to lift the enormous panels off of the trailer. This was understandable, given their massive size and how important it was that they not be damaged in the unloading process.
After explaining this to us, we told him that was fine – it would give us a chance to un-tarp while we waited (the tarps protect the load from the weather during shipment). So, we grabbed our gloves and got ready to pull the three large, heavy tarps off of the load. Much to our surprise, Johnnie and several members of his crew began removing some of the bungie cords that hold the tarp in place. When the tarps were free, they helped us to pull them off the load, lay them flat, and fold them.
I commented to one of them what a treat this was. “We sure appreciate this,” I said. “We don’t usually get help with the tarps!”
The man smiled at me and said, matter-of-factly, “Well, you’re in Mississippi now, ma’am!”
True to that statement, the men also helped us pull the dozen or so 4-inch-by-30-foot straps that secure the load to the trailer. The straps help keep the load from shifting in transit. Thanks to their kind and generous help, uncovering and unstrapping the load took us about half the time it usually does.
When we had finished, Johnnie approached Richard. He wanted to know if it would be alright if he sent his crew to lunch while they waited on the arrival of the special coupler they’d sent for. Richard told him we understood perfectly, and encouraged them to go ahead. Normally, the yard TELLS you they’re going to lunch. No one usually asks the driver if he minds. After the crew had left for lunch, Richard and I settled in to relax and wait. Richard told me that Johnnie had offered us the use of their company pickup, so we could go get lunch, too. Stunned, Richard thanked him politely and explained that we’d had a big breakfast before coming to the yard. We relaxed while we waited, and languished in the generosity and courtesy we had been shown.
Finally, the special coupler arrived and the painstaking task of unloading the massive panels began. Slowly, carefully, the spacer bars were cut away from the panels with a cutting torch. Couplers and chains were set in place, and a huge forklift gently lifted each panel off, in turn. Richard provided some 4x4 boards for the panels to be set down on, so they wouldn’t have to sit directly on the ground.
Throughout the long, delicate process of off-loading these massive units, Johnnie and his crew were pleasant, friendly, and polite. There demeanor made us feel welcomed and appreciated. When it was time for us to leave, smiles and friendly hand-shakes accompanied THEIR thanks for OUR help.
Johnnie and his crew had turned a long, complex unload into a pleasant and memorable experience. For the rest of my three weeks on the truck, the warm afterglow of that day stayed with me. When I thought about it, I was often reminded of the scripture found in the book of Hebrews, chapter 13, verse 2.
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This well-known and much-loved passage reminds us of why it’s important to be kind to strangers. Johnnie and his crew served as living examples of what Paul was talking about. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if folks all over the country could live that example on a day-to-day basis? Our relationships and encounters would be SO much more pleasant! That would REALLY give God something to smile about!
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
CAN YOU SEE IT?
January 2, 2021
I have always believed that, inside every tragedy, a treasure lies waiting to be discovered. Each bad experience offers some lesson waiting to be learned . . . some new opportunity for me to consider. Surely, 2020 was a year fraught with troubles and tragedy. They seemed to be in abundant supply all year. All around us, we heard the cries of despair and heartbreak over what was happening.
The pandemic spread of the COVID-19 virus. Fear, worry, anxiety. Political unrest. Rioting. Hate. Violence. All leading to division among families and friends. It seems as though there is only pain and damage wherever we look. But . . . is there something more? As this New Year dawns, I submit to you that there is, indeed, something more. That there are blessings and miracles tucked in between the pages of turmoil. If we want to see them – to know what they are – we must actively look for them.
Early last year, we all ended up at home a lot more than usual. With businesses and schools closed, we had nowhere to go. The TV and internet, and our phones, became our connection to the outside world. Watching the news reports of those events, I noticed a wondrous aspect to the isolation. One that was tucked under the surface of the story being reported.
Families were spending time together; eating together; working together. To ward off boredom, they began finding clever ways to have fun together. They were engaging each other. On the media front, we learned that researchers had begun working together to create vaccines, instead of the status quo of competing against each other. The result was vaccines that would be ready in near-record time.
The miracles I saw were not limited to news articles and stories. All year, I saw delightful changes in some of the most unexpected places. I watched God use this crisis to change hearts all around me.
My husband and his sister have always had a very confrontational relationship. Last year, I witnessed a change – watching them find ways to have pleasant, civil conversations. The triggers which had previously started arguments were, suddenly, being deliberately avoided – even changing the subject completely if those topics came up during their discussion. Their relationship transitioned into a pleasant one where each showed genuine concern for the other.
A friend and I found new ways to stay connected when our bi-weekly lunches were cancelled by closed restaurants. In the process, God drew each of us into deeper relationship with Himself, and revealed a ministry into which He was calling us. He spent the whole, troublesome year preparing us to do that work.
I saw people take the time to check on their neighbors. To touch base with those who are shut-in and alone. More and more often, people expressed their appreciation for those who keep our country moving. Making the best of things seems to be the goal many people have adopted during this crisis.
People are encouraging one another. Listening to one another. Helping each other in any way possible. Children avoid beloved activities if there’s a chance of exposing someone they love to the virus (did I mention that these particular "children" were teenagers?). These are the miracles I have witnessed during the past year. Yes, there has been unrest percolating all around us during these uncertain times. But there have also been other things happening . . .
I am challenging ALL of us, as 2021 begins, to change our focus. Hidden somewhere in all of that darkness are little dots of light. Miracles that show us what kindness can do. We have to dig deeper in order to find them. We must LOOK for them deliberately. Starting with myself, I challenge each and every one of us to do exactly that: dig deeper; and look deliberately.
We have a choice here: Do we focus on how bad this has been? How long it is lasting? Do we continue to count the damage it is doing? OR do we take charge of our emotions and LOOK for the blessings of love, kindness, and wonder nestled somewhere between the lines? Join me in asking God to open your eyes to the goodness around you.
Can you see it?
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
MY JOURNEY OF FAITH
December 1, 2020
I learned about God, and about the story of Jesus, from Mama, and the Sunday school and Bible School classes I attended. Mama never pushed religion, because she felt that was a choice each person should make for themselves. But she taught us faith . . . and I never doubted the stories I’d heard about Christ’s life. What I didn’t learn – probably because I didn’t understand it at the time – was how to have a relationship with God. I had no idea how far faith could take a person.
About a year after high school graduation, I married a boy I had known since 10th grade. He was in the Coast Guard, and we moved to Baltimore, Maryland – 3,000 miles away from home. I found out early that Eric’s anger took the form of violence. Compounding the unpredictable nature of his outbursts was his increasing problem with alcohol. For eight years, I endured Eric’s alcoholism, and his intensifying physical, mental, and emotional abuse. As our two sons grew, his anger would be pointed to them as well. Of course, when I intervened to protect them, he focused it on me.
Things came to a dangerous and frightening head in 1981. I wanted to leave, and had known so for two months. But, Eric’s parents were coming for a visit, and I didn’t want to spoil it for them. So, I kept quiet and chose to wait until after their visit to tell Eric about the divorce. The anxiety of waiting to escape drove me deeper into despair.
My self-esteem was almost totally destroyed from years of abuse. My sense of self had all but completely disappeared. It was in this state of mind that I would await my chance to leave. In late July of 1981, the despair finally got the best of me. The day came that I found myself standing at the top of an 80-foot high granite cliff on the coast of Maine, where we were stationed at the time. Unable to bear the intense feeling of being trapped in a hopeless situation, I realized I wanted to simply fall forward . . . off the top of that cliff, to the rocks below.
For nearly 30 minutes, I fought the physical nature of that urge, as the image of Eric raising my sons danced through my mind. That image, along with the tear-filled plea of a valued friend – that I not give up – made me want to live. In exhausted shock that I was so close to suicide, I finally stepped back from the edge of that cliff. Three weeks later, Eric and I separated. In November, I left him and made the long journey back to Spokane.
In October, 1982, I married the friend who had begged me not to give up. He, too, was in the Coast Guard, and we moved to New York. Once there – at the behest of my oldest son – he began proceedings that would allow him to adopt my boys. Frank was a caring, compassionate partner who believed in teamwork. Each day of our lives, he worked to help me recover from the effects of Eric’s abuse. He also taught me how to have a “fair fight” with your spouse. The biggest change for me was living with a man I wasn’t afraid of. It sounds silly, but that’s hard to adjust to. Once you’ve been abused, you learn to expect the unexpected. When things are chugging along smoothly, you find yourself waiting for someone to pull the rug out from under you. To my surprise, that never happened with Frank. He was, in every aspect that mattered to me, a perfect partner.
Eight months after we got to New York, Frank invited my aging mother to come and live with us. Her extremely low income, and living alone, concerned him. He felt she’d be happier with us, and that would help her live longer. That was important to him, because he liked her, and because he knew she was important to me.
During the summer of 1984, we traveled to Spokane to sell Mama’s house and move her belongings back east. We also bought a house in northeast Pennsylvania, just 3 & ½ hours from the base Frank was stationed at. This would allow him to commute home on weekends.
Nestled on 7 acres in the northern Pocono Mountains, the old farmhouse was a peaceful, safe place to raise our family (which had grown with the birth of another son in October of 1983). Weaving through the middle of our land was thousands of feet of creek frontage. Here, we would spend the next 15 years. In this place . . . beside that creek . . . I learned the one thing I had never known.
The creek made an idyllic place to pray and think things through. What I discovered there was that I could hear God’s Voice in the gently whispering water. Here, in this wondrous place, I learned how to have a relationship with God.
In 1999, Frank and I filed bankruptcy, and agreed to surrender the old farmhouse to the bank in that proceeding. We would move our family to South Dakota. An eight-year-long dream was finally coming true. Tony was married and had a family; Mike was 18 and had a girlfriend; so, neither of them would be moving with us.
Mother’s Day that year was wonderful and pleasant. The next day, tragedy struck. Frank collapsed from a heart attack at 6:15 p.m. Kevin and I were not home yet, because he had a track meet after school. Mama found Frank on the kitchen floor and called 9-1-1. Nothing the emergency responders tried seemed to help. The doctor in the ER – 14 miles away – had no better luck and, at 7:19 p.m., he pronounced Frank dead.
Although stunned to the point where my mind said, “Crumple to the floor,” my legs would not follow the thought. The sensation of big, strong arms scooping under me held me erect. It felt as though God Himself were standing there with me, giving my legs the strength I needed. In that single moment of my life, God became a physical reality.
Throughout the week that followed, there were dozens of little things that testified to God’s presence during my family’s darkest hour. It was clear to me that his angels were everywhere. And our children and I drew from each other the strength we needed to get through the ordeal. Not once did I doubt God’s involvement. I knew he was there . . . I could feel Him.
The oddest change came over me during that week, too. Although my faith had – in recent years – become stronger than it had ever been, I had still not become comfortable discussing it openly with others. Only when I knew they were people of faith did I discuss my beliefs. Yet, from the moment Frank died, my faith was right there . . . so close to the surface that it was nearly tangible. In every conversation I had – no matter who it was with – it felt natural to discuss my beliefs. I couldn’t NOT mention them. For the first time in my 45 years, I heard people comment on how strong my faith was.
That faith carried me through all the duties and details of that summer. It was all I had . . . the only thing I felt I could count on in my world. It was as though I were stranded on a raft in a fast-flowing river. Life is the river; the raft is God and the faith you have in Him. The only thing that felt safe was to lie back on my raft (in God’s arms) and let that raft carry me wherever I was supposed to go next. Despite all my sorrow and disbelief over what had happened, I knew I would be okay.
Against the well-meant advice of many people, we left for South Dakota on the exact day that Frank and I had planned – August 6, 1999 – just 3 months after his death. The bankruptcy was finished; the house was cleared out; and our possessions were en route to South Dakota in a moving van. Mama had been flown to my sister’s house in Spokane, until we could get settled in our new home. At 83 years old, and on oxygen for Emphysema, the 1600-mile trip by car would’ve been too hard for her.
So, Kevin and I left on our new adventure . . . just the two of us. It felt so odd to be a family of two after so many years as a family of six. Somehow, though, I felt hopeful and positive. I had begged God, during my long chats with him by the creek, to make SOMETHING good come out of the tragedy of Frank’s death. I think something inside me already knew that His answer to that prayer was a resounding “YES!”
We arrived in Rapid City August 11, 1999, at 11:00 p.m. We had no friends or relatives here; no motel reservation or place to live lined up; and I didn’t have a job waiting for me here. It was the middle of Sturgis Rally week – the busiest time of year in the Black Hills – and there wasn’t a motel room to be had. Still, we did sleep that night – in the car. By our 12th day here, we had a Post Office Box, bank accounts, and an address . . . a lovely rental house in North Rapid . . . and new friends. Our neighbors were wonderful, caring people.
Mama rejoined us September 10. By then, we had the house all set up to welcome her. Our new life began, and I quickly felt the sensation of putting down roots in South Dakota. It was as though I had always been here, the sense of belonging was so great.
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In November, 1999, Mama took ill and had to be hospitalized. She died December 23. Now, both my cheerleaders were gone. The voices I loved most to hear were both silenced. For the first time in all my 46 years, I was on my own . . . I was the one in charge of everything. Still, I knew that God was here with me. He made his Presence known to me in everything I did. His comfort was a constant, almost-physical sensation. However lost and scared and confused I felt, I knew He was walking with me.
I read once that ‘God never asks you to trade for less.’ I believe that with all my being. My life has proven it, over and over again. In our darkest hours, God is there. You have to be observant, and open-minded, to recognize how He manifests Himself. But, make no mistake: You are NEVER alone . . .
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
KEEP SHINING YOUR LIGHT
November 1, 2020
A recent phone call from an old friend reminded me of the undeniable power to be found in Christian fellowship. Tim and I have been friends since 1966. He’s a few months older than I, and grew up with four brothers. As our bond of friendship grew stronger, I became the honorary sister. Over the years, as my faith has grown stronger, I have shared that faith with Tim. Because of that, he has become comfortable asking for prayers when one of his family members needed them. I am grateful that God helped Tim to trust me with those requests. During this recent phone call, I felt more like his sister-in-Christ than ever before . . .
Tim had called to talk about his most recent visit from his youngest brother, Keith. In his mid-50s, Keith’s years of heart issues have taken their toll. While in the hospital recently, his doctor told him to get his affairs in order. There was nothing more they could do, beyond the nine stents already installed, and he only had a few months to live. While sharing all of this with Tim, Keith asked Tim to deliver his eulogy.
“How can I deliver a eulogy for my baby brother, Sis?!” he asked me in tears.
“You’ll speak from the heart, and you’ll do it because he asked you to. God will give you the words – all you have to do is ask.
Despite Tim’s heartbreaking news, there was reason to celebrate in Keith’s visit. You see, Keith had never really had a relationship with God. But, after his doctor left his hospital room that day, he lay there sobbing so hard it shook the bed. He told Tim that, as he lay there crying, he talked to God.
He felt God tell him, “I’ve been waiting for you!”. He said his whole body tingled for nearly 30 minutes . . . and his fear of dying left him. I couldn’t help praising God as Tim shared Keith’s news with me. As hard as it will be for my dear old friend to say good-bye to his baby brother, he has reason to rejoice. Keith made a decision to reach out to God, while he still had time. Tim will get to see his brother again someday – on the streets of glory. Keith will get to see their parents and older brother. The reunion this family will have defies description.
During this season of my life, many of my priorities have changed dramatically. Often, I can think of nothing sadder than an unsaved person missing out on their last chance to find God. Tim’s brother has avoided that harsh reality.
My heart aches for my friend, as he and his family prepare to face this loss. But it felt so good to offer words of Christian comfort and encouragement to him. I will do whatever I can to help him through this difficult season, using what God has taught me.
It is thanks to all of the marvelous people in my church family that I knew what to say to Tim. Knowing about you all from his talks with me, Tim knew I would rejoice with him about Keith’s choice for God. It seemed only natural that I write to all of you about our conversation.
Is there someone whose eternity is of concern to you? Someone who has not yet found God’s Truth for their life? I encourage you to keep hoping. Keep believing. Keep praying. Keep shining the Light of God’s Love into the world around you. You never know when someone will notice it and want to know more. We never know for sure what might turn a person around and lead him to the Lord. Never give up.
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
MOVING ON
October 1, 2020
October 7, 1999, marked the first anniversary I would spend without my second husband, Frank. As that special date drew closer, my dread of it mounted and intensified. By the morning of the seventh, I’d decided there was no way I could stand to stay home. I needed a diversion.
In the morning, I went for a walk and ended up in a nearby park, sitting under a tree. While there, I prayed for comfort and strength. Once I’d finished talking with God, I sat quietly for a while. I also talked to Frank a little bit, telling him how much I missed him and how unfair it was that we’d been robbed of our 17th anniversary. At some point, in the quiet moments between my ramblings, a thought wrote itself on my heart. “Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow, today lies waiting for me to catch up with it.”
As I pondered the words, I began to understand. My task was to do my best to stay firmly planted in the present moment. Finally, feeling refreshed from my time in the park, I headed home. I’d decided I would go for a drive to clear my mind. The Black Hills offered many beautiful places in which to do that.
As I drove, I began thinking about the man I’d been dating. Suddenly, I wondered what Frank thought of it. So, speaking out loud, I asked him. I could actually feel his presence with me in the car as I spoke. When I asked if he minded that I was moving on, his answer was crystal clear – as though there really was someone there with me. The following conversation ensued . . .
“No, I don’t mind, Lovey. Because if you’re moving on, that means I did my job.”
“Job? What job?” I asked, puzzled.
“My job was to prepare you for the greatest love of your life,” came his matter-of-fact answer.
Shocked by what my heart had just heart, I nearly crashed the car into a traffic island. “What’re you talking about?” I cried. “I thought YOU were the greatest love of my life!”
The next response I heard was simple and direct . . . and it left me speechless. “No, Lovey. There’s more.” Moments later, the sense of Frank’s presence was gone. But his words stayed with me . . .
As I share that story, it is over 21 years later. My understanding of all those events has grown tremendously. Three and a half years after Frank’s death, I met a man to whom I was instantly attracted, and we've been together ever since. The year after Rich and I met, we began attending the Little White Church, in Hill City, South Dakota. Both of those relationships are still going strong, and I grow every day because of them.
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Through our church, my relationship with God has grown far beyond anything I ever imagined. The love He’s brought into my life – on every level I can think of – surpasses my ability to express. My love for Rich is different than anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. Through him, I’ve come to understand unconditional love more than ever. That understanding has enhanced my understanding of God’s love for us.
The two relationships feed and enhance one another on a daily basis. Because of that, I feel and express love on a level that is different from anything I’ve ever known before. My surrender to God is total. Even the work I do as a writer is lifted up to Him for His glory and honor. Rich encourages and supports me in all that I do. He loves me just the way I am, with no conditions or demands.
Everything I have in my life now is an extension of something I learned in the past. It is bigger, better, and more wonderful than it ever was. It’s as though everything in my past has PREPARED me for living the life I have now . . . as though this was all part of God’s plan from the very beginning.
I have a growing understanding of the phrase my spirit heard that day: “. . . the greatest love of your life.” The way I love today is bigger – much bigger – than how I used to love. I love God more than I ever thought possible. I love Rich more than I ever believed I could love again. I love my life – everything about my life – more than I’ve ever loved anything. I am happier than I ever believed I could be.
I once asked God to make something good come out of the tragedy of Frank’s death. God has answered that prayer IN SPADES. As I move on through my life, I find “good” in every single corner of it. Thanks to God’s faithfulness, moving on has been an exciting journey of joy, peace, and love.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
FIGHTING THE EVIL
September 14, 2020
As Christians, we often hear mentions of Spiritual battles. Many things happening in our world today are being defined that way: battles of good versus evil – God versus Satan. We see evidence of them everywhere. Sometimes, it even seems like that struggle is happening closer to home than ever before.
In fact, there are times when I feel as though I’ve been plopped down right in the middle of that battlefield. Like the war is raging all around me. I know I’m not alone in that feeling. Many people I’ve talked to seem to feel just as overwhelmed by it all.
Over the course of many years, I have learned that the worst thing I can do at times like that is focus on what is wrong. Looking at what is wrong always seems to make things even worse. “So,” you ask, “what SHOULD I focus on?” That’s a great question!
I have developed a list of favorite Scripture verses, which I have committed to memory. When I’m troubled, and feel like the walls are collapsing around me, I recite those verses out loud. Whenever I do this, I’m amazed at the calming effect it always has on me. By the time I recite the third verse, I’m feeling much more relaxed and at peace.
Then I studied Tony Evans’ “Victory in Spiritual Warfare” with my son and daughter-in-law, and I began to understand. Among all the other concepts this study teaches, there was one I found particularly fascinating. It explained why reciting my favorite Scripture verses quieted me in times of trouble.
The study explained that Satan cannot stay in the presence of God’s Word. When we speak it out loud, he is forced to flee. Many of you have probably heard this concept before, but I had not. I love a mystery, and I REALLY love discovering its solution. So, for me, learning this was like opening a grand treasure!
For those of you who had not heard it before, I am thrilled for this chance to share it with you. Figure out what YOUR favorite Scripture verses are, and memorize some of them (I wrote my list in the front of my Bible). Or, write them down and carry them with you. Whenever you’re troubled, say them out loud. You’ll be astounded at the impact this has on your mood.
Enjoy your search for your favorite words from our Heavenly Father! Here are some of mine:
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1 Corinthians 14:33: For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.
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Romans 8:28: All things work together for good, to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose.
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Matthew 11:28: Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
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Isaiah 40:31: But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.
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Proverbs 3:5-6: Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
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2 Timothy 1:7: For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
All the power and strength we need is waiting for us in the pages of God’s Word. Find those words which speak to YOUR heart, and add them to your “tool belt”. They will be amazingly helpful when you are fighting the evil that creeps into your life. They are the most powerful weapons you can use against it. May the Lord bless and guide your journey of discovery!
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
DOES IT MATTER?
August 1, 2020
Thinking about how you live your everyday life, look at that title again. Read it . . . and digest it for a few moments. How many times have you asked yourself that very question? How many times have each and every one of us wondered, “Does what I’m doing REALLY matter? Does it REALLY make a difference?” I can’t speak for you, but I know
I've asked it more times than I can count!
I remember a particular family situation that caused that question to crop up yet again. In many ways, it was remarkably similar to a family situation that had happened about 4 years prior. Oh, sure: the players were different; but the problems and agonies were frighteningly familiar.
I’m sure you know the type of situation I’m talking about. Someone you love is going through a really rough time. A relationship is in serious trouble. At their wit’s end, they call you or show up at your door. They need to talk. On their lips is a myriad of complaints about some other person – a spouse, perhaps.
You listen attentively as this virtually endless tirade continues. As you do, you discover a frustrating truth. You have absolutely NO idea what to say in response. You love this person with all your heart. More than anything, you want to say something helpful – something that will help them feel better. You’d love to be able to offer some morsel of sound advice . . . some useful suggestion. Try though you might, however, nothing is coming to mind. In fact, you feel completely helpless - like you’re drawing a complete blank.
More than once, I’ve found myself in that very situation. Every time, I find myself frustrated – almost to the point of rage – because I can’t help. All I can do is sit there quietly and listen. It always makes me feel so helpless. So useless.
Other times, it’s a situation in which I’m no where near the person who is struggling. They’re in one state, and I’m here in South Dakota. I cannot physically be with them or even talk to them. Or, it’s a scenario that is totally beyond my ability to help.
A family member is in the path of a major storm thousands of miles away. A faraway friend is facing surgery. A loved one who lives across the country receives bad news. Another loved one is deployed to a war zone. A child’s marriage falls apart and the bitter ex-spouse cuts themselves off from the family, leaving us absolutely no access to the grandchildren. Miles away, someone dies and there’s no way for you to go to their family to offer comfort.
There are hundreds of such situations in our everyday lives. In each and every one of them, there is ONE thing we CAN do: We can pray. At that moment, we’ve all heard someone say (or we’ve said it to ourselves), “All I can do is pray.” Sadly, I am guilty of making that statement, or one like it, more times than I’d care to admit. “All I can do is pray.” “All I can do is listen.” “All I could do was be there.” Like those things are nothing. Like they don’t help. Like they don’t count.
After all, I’m a mom. A grandma. A college graduate, for crying out loud! I should know what to do to help, right? Aren’t I supposed to be able to fix it for them? Shouldn’t I know how to HELP? If “all” I am doing is listening, being there, or praying, does it really make a difference? Does it really matter?
I was pondering this the other day when another question occurred to me. What if, in that ‘helpless’ moment, I’m doing exactly what God wants me to do? What if, in that tirade my loved-one is spinning, the one thing he needs – more than anything else – is a sounding board. Maybe he needs someone with a loving heart who can listen quietly without offering any judgments or criticisms. Maybe, in that moment, he doesn’t even WANT help or advice; just a safe place to put his frustrations. Doesn’t that make listening priceless?
And, what about being there? In that moment, when your frustrations and fears are more than you can bear, is there anything worse than tackling them all alone? Is there anything more devastating than feeling as though you’ve been completely cut off from all human contact or comfort? In that moment, wouldn’t it be unbelievably valuable to have SOMEONE ‘be there” to hold your hand or offer a hug?
So, let’s look at the situation in which the one thing we can offer is our prayers. There’s not much I can say here to improve upon the Truth: prayer is the single most powerful thing we, as humans, can do. The Bible tells us all things work for good (Romans 8:28), and that our prayers can produce great results (James 5:16b).
Believing those statements, I can draw ONLY one conclusion. If I am faced with a situation in which “ALL” I can do is ‘listen’, or ‘be there’, or ‘pray’ . . . and I trust God with ALL things . . . then, in that moment, I must be EXACTLY where God wants me to be. I must conclude that I am doing EXACTLY what He’s asking me to do. In that case, whatever I’m doing – no matter how small and simple it seems to me – really DOES matter! The same is true of you – and whatever you choose to do in those troubling situations. As sure as you’re standing there, it matters!
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
DO THE MATH
July 1, 2020
At some point during the quiet solitude of the COVID-19 crisis, I found myself reflecting. As I did, I made an amazing discovery: “Nothing is wrong!” Yes, there are many assorted things going wrong in the world around me. But this thought wasn’t about that; it was about my own personal life.
My husband and I are happy and healthy. Our kids and their families are healthy and doing well. We have a safe place to live, vehicles to take us where we need to go, and we are financially provided for. We belong to a wonderful church with an amazing body of loving believers. We have a great relationship and we laugh often. Life is good.
As I sat there, digesting the idea that nothing was wrong, I found it to be a difficult concept to accept. It seemed as though there had been SOMETHING to be concerned about for most of my life. That the sense of “all is well” was relatively new. Suddenly, I wondered: was there REALLY something wrong most of those years. Are you sure?
So, I got out a piece of paper and started ‘doing the math’. How much time did we live with my abusive stepfather? How long did my marriage to an abusive alcoholic actually last? Down the list I went, documenting every painful experience I could remember. Then, I added them all up.
What I found was eye-opening. Despite my perception that most of my life had been filled with problems, the actual trouble/trauma only accounted for 14 years. Since I am currently 66, that means that only one fifth (1/5; 20%) of my life was filled with problems. The other 4/5 (80%) were happy, peaceful years filled with love, wonder, and safety.
Psalm 27:12 warns of ‘false witnesses’ rising up against us. The misconception regarding how much of my life was traumatic is definitely a false witness. It is a lie I bought into, discoloring the very fabric of my memories. By focusing so much mental energy on that lie, I was giving a majority of the power in my mind to a memory that occupies a small minority of the time. Newsflash: we ALL do this!
One small, isolated incident becomes a dominant memory, drowning out the good ones. “One bad apple spoils the whole barrel,” right? No! Not at first, anyway. But, over time, the rot spreads to more and more of the apples if you don't remove the bad one right away. The same is true of that one bad memory. Over time, it becomes all we can remember. We can’t remember the good things, even though there are more of them!
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I share this with you in order to encourage you to examine your own life. Take a good look at the memories and perceptions you’re holding onto. Do the math on your own “bad memories”, as compared to the years when nothing was actually wrong. Then, take back your power. Realize that you have a choice: “Do I hang onto the bad memories, or cherish the good ones?”
Do the math. Then, choose wisely.
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD
June 1, 2020
As September 11 dawned last year, I was in my usual place for morning prayers. Sitting in the quiet, I found myself reflecting on the heart-wrenching images of that awful day. In those moments, I was totally unprepared for the message that the Lord planted in my heart: Pray for the terrorists.
Stunned, I didn’t respond at all at first. Then, the command came again: Pray for the terrorists. With tears streaming down my face, I protested, “I can’t! I’m sorry, Father, I just can’t. I cannot bring myself to ask You to forgive them.”
I know: the men who overtook those planes are long-since dead. Their immortal souls have already been dealt with. Still, I sat quietly and continued to listen for God’s guidance. The words from Matthew 5:44 came to mind:
“. . . Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.”
Sobbing as I pondered those words, I suddenly found myself wondering what the afterlife must look like for those who hate God and preach hatred all of their lives. ‘Eternal darkness’; ‘eternal separation from God’ . . . and more tears fell. Although it is difficult to imagine feeling any compassion for such people, I began to understand what God was asking of me.
He was asking me to pray for those who hate. To pray that they will find a path to the Truth and turn their lives over to God. If THEY would come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, the hate would stop.
We have all prayed for the victims of the 9-11 attacks for over 18 years. We’ve prayed for their families, their coworkers, their neighbors. We’ve prayed for first responders. We’ve prayed for everyone left behind. And we have prayed for our country.
In short, we have prayed over the results of hatred for nearly two decades. Meanwhile, the disease that caused the damage marches tenaciously onward. It is time to change our strategy, and add a new prayer to the list . . . an END to hatred. How? By praying for the souls of those who perpetrate hatred. It won’t be easy. It may feel odd. It might not be popular. But it IS right. Scripture tells us to overcome evil with good (Romans 12:21).
Consider this: our anger and hatred for them doesn’t affect THEM at all. It is damaging OUR souls. It is hurting US. We cannot practice the fruits of the Spirit when we are bound up by the kind of hate that existed on 9-11. We must rise above it and pray for all evil-doers and hate-dealers.
God is Love – that’s what His Word tells us. That every person on this planet is HIS child. No matter how far away from Him they have wandered, they are STILL His children. Can you imagine how His heart must break over those who have chosen hate? He is calling us to change it . . . by praying for all of those who do evil.
I’m not suggesting we condone their actions or embrace their culture or beliefs. I AM suggesting that we HOLD FAST to OUR beliefs; that we pray hard for those who are lost in a sea of hatred - that they find their way to Him.
Yes, the men who hijacked those planes are gone, but there are others. Those who are still lost and still preaching hate every day. Hating them goes against everything God has asked of us. In fact, it adds more fuel to the enemy’s fire – it feeds the demon. END the hate. Take up your Sword – the Word of God – and use it to end the hate.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
GIVE IT YOUR BEST
May 1, 2020
As a writer, I frequently think about the men who wrote the Bible. They were not known as scribes among their people – they weren’t professional writers of any kind. They were simple men who probably lived seemingly ordinary lives. But they were given a job to do.
In each case, God called upon that man to write down what He said to him. No embellishments. Nothing fancy. Just, “Write this down.” What he wrote became a book of the Bible – books we still read and study every day . . . in the 21st century. Think about that for a minute.
Here we are, over 2,000 years after the days in which Christ walked the Earth in human form. The men who wrote of His life walked the Earth with Him – two thousand years ago! The men who wrote the books of the Old Testament lived between that time and 4,000 years before that! And, today, we are STILL reading what they wrote!
Perhaps we should follow their example and pay more careful attention to the work we are given to do. After all, if we’re doing work we feel led or called to do, aren't we following the SAME God that THEY did? What if we all thought of our work in that way? What impact might it have? We have no way of know for sure. Neither did they. I’m certain none of them ever thought – as he was writing down what God said – that those words would be read and studied for millennia.
These ramblings have caused me to take pause and really think about the work I do. Even when I’m writing a letter to my friend in Georgia, I try to give thought to the words. Yes, I know I’m not writing anything nearly as important as the Bible . . . but how do I know that? Do you think Paul knew how crucial his letters would become? That billions of people would study them for the rest of time?
Forgive my babbling, but there IS a point. Each of us does work that we have felt led to do, or called to do; or work that we have a particular talent for doing. That isn’t an accident. Those talents, abilities, and callings did not just happen. They are a gift from God. How we use that gift is how we say, “Thank you”. What better way to show God how grateful we are than to do good work? To give our very best effort in every single thing we do?
God has a purpose for everything. In the grand scheme of things, He has a reason for the work you do – for the work I do. We cannot possibly know His reasons or His plans. But we can trust that those plans exist. With that thought in mind, I offer each of us a challenge. In everything you do – in every task you undertake – remember Who is writing your story. Remember Who has assigned that task to you. Put a 100% effort into every single thing you do. Trust that God has a plan for it, whatever it is . . . and give it your best!
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
IN HIS HANDS
March 28, 2020
There are so many wondrous things I have learned during my walk with God. I am sometimes frustrated that I cannot write them all at once. Since I can’t, I strive to write each one as it percolates to the surface of my consciousness.
One day, I found myself reflecting on a conversation I had recently had with some women at church. Those reflections led me to gaze in awe at the way God does things. At the way He fits together the pieces of our lives. Those thoughts brought me to a vital truth. In God’s hands, everything is used. Nothing goes to waste. All that was or has been enhances what IS at this moment, and prepares us for what will be or what is to come.
No where do I see this truth more clearly than in the life of a widow. And THAT is how I got to this train of thought from Sunday’s visit with the two women at church. All three of us are widows. We shared a few giggles over some of the similarities in our current lives and habits. A short time after that visit, I spoke at length with one of them about our lives as widows.
Among other things, we discussed how I ended up in South Dakota. I mentioned the fact that she & I would have never met if my husband had survived his heart attack. Suddenly, we were sharing all the things we’ve done that we “never would have guessed” we would do. The things we would never have expected to happen.
“If someone had told me ___________, I would have laughed at them!” was a thought each of us had in regard to something. This led me to ask her a question.
“How many of those things do you regret?”
With an almost surprised expression, she whispered, “Not a single one!” I could see the awe in her eyes as she spoke.
I didn’t have to explore her answer any further, because I feel exactly the same way. I wouldn’t change a single thing! That is an amazing thought. Some people might credit it to the strength of the human spirit. We, who count ourselves as daughters of the King, know otherwise. Our Father has taken everything – gathered up ALL of those shattered pieces – and created a breathtaking mosaic. From our anguish, He has formed magnificent artwork. As a result we are, indeed, new creations (ref. 2 Corinthians 5:17).
Everything we loved – and all that we learned – in our former lives is now being used to help us live this life well. God took each little detail and found a use for it here and now. We’re doing things we never dreamed we could. Our lives are filled with joy.
The next day, a conversation with my daughter-in-law revealed that my son had recently experienced something similar. During a ride-along for a potential new job, many things from his past sparked easy connections with new customers. Those connections build trust and relationships that may not have been made without those past experiences. My son recognized the value of that.
No human force could ever have hoped to achieve this wondrous feat by its own power. Never, by our own strength or ability, could we have the slightest chance of building such extraordinary beauty from broken pieces. Only our loving God could have accomplished such wonder in the wake of such sorrow. This much good could ONLY have happened in HIS Hands.
Knowing that, I offer us all a valuable reminder. As our world endures this current health crisis – which has us battling an unseen enemy – let us remember that God walks this path with us. He goes before us, and He has our backs. Nothing will happen to us that He doesn’t know about. And, as He always has, He will find a way to use this terrible, frightening experience for good. Trust that! Trust HIM!!!
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
GOD'S WILL
February 7, 2020
There are SO many things in life that don’t turn out as we expected. So many events that leave us wondering what God is up to. Being turned down for that job you wanted. A foiled plan to make the trip to visit a dear friend. The list goes on and on – things we really wanted that didn’t happen.
As we plan for these things, we feel such excited anticipation, we are sure God will help them come to pass. Surely, He will want us to have something that makes us so happy just thinking about it . . . right? Still, we worry and fret as we plan.
Our minds begin running a seemingly endless list of ‘what-ifs’. ‘What if I can’t get the time off?’ ‘. . . if I don’t have enough money?’ ‘. . . if they don’t like me, or hire someone else?’ ‘Will the house/yard/pet/plants be alright while I’m gone?’ ‘Will I be able to keep up with everything if I DO get the job?’ If there’s some aspect to worry about, we will find it.
Then, if the plan does fall apart, we’re certain it is our fault. Or that the ‘universe’ has stacked the cards against us. That we, somehow, caused this wondrous thing NOT to happen. Over-estimating our own power, we are convinced it would have happened ‘if only ____’.
Really? Think about the sheer audacity of those thoughts! Do we really believe that God has no say-so in our plans? That we alone are powerful enough to thwart HIS plans for us? The sad truth is, we act like it. However, Scripture reveals a very different reality.
Isaiah 46:10b says, “. . . my purpose will stand . . .”
Isaiah 46:11b says, “. . .What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned, that will I do.”
These are just two of the many references in Scripture that speak to God’s infinite power to have His will prevail in our lives. I stumbled across this Truth during my prayer time recently. I was praying for a dear friend who lives in Georgia. I haven’t seen her since 1997, and Rich and I are planning a trip to go there next year. But I haven’t heard from Zela in months. Since she’s in her late 80s, I began to wonder – and fret.
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Then, it hit me. If God intends for me to see Zela again, I WILL get the chance to do so. If I do not get the opportunity to see her while she still lives on this Earth, then I can safely assume that it wasn’t in God’s plan for us. No power in all the world can stop Him from having His will prevail. Things will turn out just the way He wants them to. We cannot stop Him. This is something all of us need to remember . . . every day.
Our choices, our actions, our decisions may change the path – or alter events along the way. But the final outcome of ANY thing we do is in the Hands of the One Who created us. Things will turn out according to His plan and purpose, no matter what.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
HE GETS IT
December 20, 2019
(God blessed me with sons to raise, so this article is written from that perspective. Make no mistake, however: these thoughts apply to daughters just as easily. ~ BJ)
You know how it feels when your child lets go of the couch or coffee table, and takes his first tentative steps across the floor? When he says his first word, or puts together his first sentence? How it feels in that wondrous moment when your child finally “gets it”? When he knows something you’ve been waiting for him to learn?
There are so many of those ‘first moments’ when you’re raising a child. When he rolls over. When he sits up by himself. When he crawls across the floor. When he pulls himself up on the furniture and stands. Walking, talking, understanding. Buttoning his shirt, tying his shoes, dressing himself. All of those glorious firsts bring a gleeful smile to a parent’s face.
Every step your child takes toward adulthood brings its own unique sense of joy with it. Each new accomplishment assures us that he is getting closer to being able to navigate the world on his own. And, every time, your heart fairly bursts with joy, pride, and gratitude.
The joy and pride come because you’re tickled pink that he’s done whatever-it-is. The gratitude is because you’ve been given the distinct privilege of witnessing his progress. God chose YOU to raise this child and watch him grow. First dates. School dances. Prom. Graduation. College. Marriage. Grandbabies. The list goes on and on. In fact, the causes for joy, as you observe your child’s life, seem almost endless. Yes, there are moments of heartache, but they are displaced by the joyful moments.
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As wonderful – and abundant – as those precious moments are, there is one which stands alone. One ‘accomplishment’ that outshines all others that have occurred in your child’s life. One discovery he makes that brings you, as a parent, to your knees – with more joy than you ever thought humanly possible.
Nothing on Earth can possibly compare to how you feel when your child surrenders his life to God. When he finally learns to leave everything in God’s hands. To trust God’s decisions for his life, no matter what. The peace you hear in his voice, at that moment, is almost palpable.
As his parent, the joy this brings you is virtually indescribable. There are not enough words in all of language to adequately express how you feel. You witness his transformation with tears streaming down your face. This beautiful, precious person whom you raised, loved, cared for, and prayed for has arrived. “He gets it!” Just speaking those words takes your breath away.
You lift up a prayer of deep, abiding gratitude . . . not only because your child has found the Secret. But also because God has allowed you a front row seat from which to witness this glorious transformation. The future looks brighter than you ever dared to hope was possible.
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You find yourself almost speechless with wonder and awe. You have witnessed the greatest gift God could bestow upon any parent . . . the day when your child “gets it”. In that moment, you know for sure: he will be just fine.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
LISTEN HARDER
October 5, 2019
Recent rains have much of the ground in our area fully saturated. Any new rain that falls is seeking some place to go – some path along which it can travel. For many families, that path has led the water right into their basements. Our home has been no exception. After 17 years of staying dry in every rain storm, we had water in our basement three times in six days.
Discouraged and overwhelmed, I sat down during my prayer time to talk to God about it. Truth be told, I intended to indulge in a major pity party – self pity, to be exact. But God is good, and knows what we need far better than we do.
First, I opened my devotional and read the day’s entry. It referenced the story in Matthew 8:23-27, when the disciples feared the storm that was tossing their ship. I felt stunned at the timely relevance of that particular Bible reference.
Then, I began making a journal entry – just as I had planned – documenting the overwhelming mess in my basement. From there, I had intended to list ALL the other things I am supposed to do on a daily basis. I planned to whine and complain about “how am I supposed to keep up with it all?” With God guiding my thoughts, however, that is not what I wrote . . .
Read along with me now, as I share that actual journal entry with you. See the words that I ended up writing after I had described the mess. See what God had me write in place of the complaining I had planned.
“I bring my anxiety over it to God . . . where my strength can be renewed. He alone will make it possible for me to keep up with everything I need to do. Today, more than ever before, I need to remember the promise in Isaiah 40:31:
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not grow weary; they shall walk, and not faint.”
. . . Looking at where the Lord guided the words I actually wrote, I sense an immediate suggestion from Him. A guide for how to cope with it all and not be worn down by it all . . .
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Don’t focus your energy on how much there is to do. That causes your mind to try and do it all at once. Pick one thing – that’s right in front of you – and do that. Do each thing as it comes, and you’ll have the strength you
need. And, you’ll be at peace.
By the time I had finished, my fatigue was lifting away. I no longer felt overwhelmed. In fact, I was at peace and felt hopeful – ready to start my day with enthusiasm.
As I said, God is good . . . and knows what we need, far better than we do. I offer you this suggestion. Whenever life gets loud and bothersome, carry your troubles to the Lord. When you do, be sure to slow down and REALLY listen for His response.
It will probably be something you didn’t expect. It may even be something you really don’t want to hear. But one thing is absolutely for certain: He WILL answer you! Just listen a little harder.
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
AND THE HEAVENS DANCED, Part 2
August 11, 2019
Through the next two songs, I kept watch. Each time a new song began, the pattern of the flashes seemed to change so it could keep time with the music. After three songs, my son spoke up.
“The lightning matches the music – like it’s keeping time.”
“I thought so, too,” I said, “but I didn’t want to sound crazy.”
“No. I saw it, too, Mom.”
So, we kept watching. For over an hour more, we listened to wonderful music and watched God’s spectacular light show in the dark sky in front of us. With each tempo change, there would be some fluctuation in the pattern of the lightning flashes. It was mesmerizing. In fact, the memory of those images is so strong, I can’t even tell you if it was raining that night. All I remember is the show. And then . . . the Grand Finale.
Just a few miles outside of Rapid City, the radio began playing Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” – one of my late husband’s favorite songs. This song has several intricate layers of musical patterns in it, each with a unique tempo and mood. My son and I gasped as we saw what the light show did next.
The lightning seemed to divide itself into sections. Each section kept time with a different layer of the music in the song. The timing was perfectly matched to the various rhythms and melodies we were hearing. It was absolutely breathtaking. That son – and that marvelous, climactic light show – heralded our official arrival into Rapid City. We entered the city limits just as the song ended.
Every time I tell that story, I get goose bumps. I’m also aware of how fanciful it sounds. But that night, to my son and I, it was as real as it could be. After a long, emotionally-charged road trip – one that had followed the darkest summer of our lives – we had completed our mission. The two of us had successfully finished a dream that six of us had begun eight years earlier.
God had found a way to make absolutely certain that we knew He had been watching throughout our trip. Celebrating our success, He found a way to congratulate us that both of us would recognize. As our long journey came to an end, God threw us a spectacular party. It came complete with the most breathtaking light show ever produced – and the heavens danced.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
AND THE HEAVENS DANCED, Part 1​
July 20, 2019
Twenty years ago, I arrived in Rapid City. That move was the culmination of over eight years of dreaming and planning for our family of six. What joy we felt when we finally entered the city limits! But, this great accomplishment had come on the heels of a terrible price.
When the dream to relocate from Pennsylvania to South Dakota first began, my boys were eight, 11, and 15. As the year 1999 dawned, they were 15, 18, and 23. Two of them were already living out on their own. We finally saw our chance to fulfill our dream and, in late April of that year, we selected a moving date. Two weeks later, my husband died unexpectedly.
I had no clue why he wasn’t to make the long-awaited move with me, but I knew I was supposed to go. The two older boys had chosen to stay in Pennsylvania. My mother flew to my sister’s, where she would stay until we were settled. Only two of us would make the actual journey.
And so it was that, on schedule, my youngest son and I began the road trip to South Dakota. I chose to make the trip as relaxed as possible by fitting in lots of tourist attractions along the way. Still reeling from his father’s death, we had our ups and downs along the way. Overall, however, we had a wonderful adventure together.
The final leg of our journey found us traveling across the open spaces of central South Dakota in the dark. We were still about two hours out when the car radio picked up a Rapid City Rock ‘n’ Roll station. Enjoying the diversion of the upbeat music, we excitedly moved ever closer to our destination. Then, we noticed the weather. In the distance in front of us, we saw the tell-tale signs of a summer electrical storm. The entire horizon lit up with frequent flashes of lightning.
“Looks like it’s storming in the Black Hills,” I said.
As we watched, a different song began playing on the radio. Still focused on the distant lightning flashes, I thought I was imagining things. It seemed as though the pattern of the flashes had changed. They appeared to be keeping time to the rhythm of the music. Certain I was crazy, I kept the thought to myself.
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(Be sure to come back August 11, to read the rest of this true story.)
To His Glory . . . BJ
SAY IT NOW​
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I recently attended the funeral of a woman I did not know. Her name was Carole. I know her son and his wonderful family, and I attended out of respect for them. As I listened to the comments made, and the memories shared, I was moved by what I heard. People obviously thought very highly of Carole.
In the days that followed, I found myself thinking about my own life. “What will people remember about me?” I wondered. “What will they say when I am gone?” Naturally, I hoped their words would be kind and loving.
With all my heart, I pray that I am living the kind of life that will evoke fond, loving memories when I’m gone. That my life will have honored and glorified God as much as Carole’s life did.
As I sat praying about these things one morning, a glaring truth hit me. Yes, it is nice to think that I will be fondly remembered after I am gone. It is good to hope – and pray – that I live a life that honors and glorifies God. That's all well and good. But the time to BE that person is NOW.
If I am to make that kind of a lasting impression on people, I must start NOW.
If I am to be remembered as kind, or compassionate - or whatever – I must display those characteristics NOW.
If I want to leave behind a legacy of encouraging words, I must speak them NOW.
If I want to be known for having a strong work ethic, I must display that NOW.
If I want people to know how much I care about them, I must tell them NOW.
Let’s face it: we all want to be remembered. We want to know that, while we were here, we made a difference. That we mattered. The question is, are we spending more time THINKING about that than we are DOING something about it? I’m quite certain that I’ve been guilty of that.
So, today, I offer you a challenge. Figure out how you want to be remembered. Once you’ve identified those traits, make a deliberate effort to BE that person. Right now. Today. And every day of your life from here on.
Likewise, if there is something you admire or respect in the people you know, don’t wait. Don’t waste the precious time you have. Tell them. It only takes a moment . . . and tomorrow may be too late. Say it NOW.
To His Glory . . . BJ