Sunday Post: Studying God's Word

[Sorry about the video size. I can't figure out how to squish it down.]

I enjoy the traditional hymns best, don’t you?

My memory is getting atrocious. It was someone else’s pearls of wisdom that prompted this post otherwise there would be first a credit for this inspiration.

Paraphrasing, I’m sure, but here goes: “It is better to listen to God first before prayer.”

I know that’s rather simplistic but truth usually is.

In other words, it is better to READ God's Word than to talk excessively AT Him making requests, therefore ignoring His voice. Reading His Word faithfully is one of my many failings. I’m too busy, too tired, too bored, too distracted, too hungry and plethora of other excuses. I am proficient at submitting requests to our tolerant Lord or to pray for others. That’s easy. Make no mistake, though, prayer is key to one of our many wondrous, privileged communications with our loving Saviour. I hope I’m learning that it’s equally, maybe more so, important to listen to Him speak to me first before making my wishes known. Especially since I tend to get the wrong end of the stick in many situations.

So since there are no more burning bushes or pillars of smoke or tablets of stone to guide us, in this “present evil age” [Galatians 1:4] He has chosen to speak to us through His written Word. And the Word was “made flesh” [John 1:14] in our Lord Jesus Christ. Reading His Word is to listen to Jesus talk to us, and therein lays peace. This truth is revealed numerous times in His Holy Word.

Be as the Bereans and “search the Word daily to see if it is so”. [Acts 17:11]

I hope that makes sense. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of reading to do. :)

"Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth."

[II Timothy 2:15] NKJV

Mischievous Country Wickedness

We suffered a mild vandalism last night. Our house sits 350' from the dirt road on almost 7 acres of tranquility. Many years ago, I had an electric gate, lights, etc. installed at the entrance to insure privacy. And because I try to always exhibit community pride, there are pretty decorations and flowers meant to please all who pass by.

It’s my little Corner of Zen and a friendly wave to all.

Last evening someone on a UTV (like a 4 wheeler but can seat 2 or more) tore my husband’s hand painted bird gourd down, flinging it with great force at the gate entrance. Then proceeded to leave 3 beer cans and container. Thank heavens the Carolina Wren's are done nesting or I would have went ballistic in every Irish sense of the word and sought the villains out to do unspeakable things to their body parts. I still was SO ANGRY at first but have pretty much calmed down since. I don't think we were singled out but still feel a little violated. 

I get asked sometimes as to why we're not friends with many of the neighbors. This is why. I dislike saying it, but my impression of the reason many that live in the country are here because they're losers. These fish eyed mental midgets can't cut it in a neighborhood where one must be civil or suffer the consequences. I pick up the leavings of their dull, zero purpose lives almost daily on our walks.

This event has helped me to finally decide to call Mr. B. to install security cameras that has been discussed in days past. I dislike going this route but it looks like this may be our only option. Catch the perp’ on camera. Call the police. Let them handle it. Well, I call them police, in the loosest sense of the word. Just between you, me and the fence post, the local law force is more like the Keystone Cops. Good luck with that, right?!

If we go that route, I'll be sure to share a post that guarantees to be imbued with snarky comments and all. Right now, I pray that the pen is mightier than the sword.

Throw Back Thursday: 1973 Titusville Florida

May 1973

Astronaut High School Junior-Senior Prom

This is a scanned image of an old, worn polaroid of your's truly and my first boyfriend, Bill Anderson, in Titusville, Florida. I don't remember the dance but I'm sure it was enjoyable. The early '70s where still a time of innocence for America. It was also a time of fantastic music that still lives on today. Anyway, I remember Bill as a gentle, kind hearted, jolly, generous fellow. The following year we went our separate ways but I always think fondly of our time together. Time has obscured the reasons for the split. We both went on to marry good, loving people and have productive happy lives.

My step-mom, Myra, made the dress. She made almost all my clothes. Myra was so talented, she could have been a professional seamstress. I learned a lot about sewing from her for which I am eternally grateful.

Hope your day is blessed.

What Dreams May Come

It was in the ethereal world of sensations, ideals and memories when I dreamed about her last night.

I was back in the town where I grew up. In the succession of confused, smokey images, I was running from yard to yard yelling her name, “Maxie! Maaaaxxxxiiiiiiieeeee!” Then mumbling in my snarky way, “Where are you you stupid little dog!” Hunting everywhere for my little girl. Getting more and more frantic. A sudden, overpowering fear. Alas, she was nowhere to be found! I lost her. I awoke teary eyed with the realization that she is gone. Never to return to this Earthly plane.

It’s been almost two years since she succumbed to the ravages of Cushings Disease. Why dream about her now? Perhaps it’s because the family is in turmoil. Or because we daily learn that blameless babies are being chopped up and body parts sold with a sanction by the government. Could be the ear infection I have right now. Or how the food prices keep going up, and our tiny annuity keeps going down. It seems to never end. In my heart I must be searching for that little security blanket wrapped in grey fur that would sit in my lap, to make that caused discomfiture go away. That’s what Maxie did. She had that gift. Whenever I felt unhappy, unloved, frightened, or unsettled, she would make the bad evaporate. Her joyful innocence for life brought contentment that would always affect my countenance positively. She was a ray of sunshine on four legs. I really miss fuzzy britches.

Well, because I know that life is important, I must soldier on.  This is not a single human incident embedded in a sea of souls with perfect lives. Everyone has their sack of rocks to carry. It’s time to pick up the pieces, build new memories with The Boys, and strive to be happy.

And just trust God.

“Make a joyful noise unto the LORD,

all the earth; make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise.”

Psalms 98:4

Wordless Wednesday

Antlion (Glenurus gratus)

From Treehouse To Tiny House

Since the advent of Treehouse Masters (Fridays, 10 pm, Animal Planet) about two or three years ago, I have desired a house high above the ground. Hubby and I know how to construct things. We have put in plumbing, electrical, carpentry, telephones, etc. How hard could it be, right? Famous Last Words. But time has been unkind and taken a toll on the frail shells we walk around in. So, with a heavy heart, that idea was laid aside. Now, thanks to watching Tiny House Nation the plan is to take a different tack. As soon as we’re able, a local distributor will supply the tiny pre-constructed building (8' x 16') with a porch and convert it to an extra bedroom with 1/2 bath. The buildings are surprisingly affordable and the manufacturer will finish them nearly anyway one desires. The new 8,000 BTU unit from the Great Air Conditioner Debacle purchased during the 4th of July weekend will be more than ample for comfort. 

Being a nature girl, I might even order the building with two windows placed together to make a small picture window facing the woods. We also plan to complete all our own electrical, plumbing, flooring, walls. It will save money going this route. 

Ok, I admit it, I’m also a bit of a control freak. *grin*

[click to enlarge]

The concrete block and solids (left) have been purchased to build the footers. This morning we began clearing the area of low limbs (middle & right), and were going to complete it, but the heat and humidity prematurely ran us inside. It is so bad right now I almost succumbed to heat prostration. Good thing there is lots of time.

[click to enlarge]

The inside decorations will be mostly Mason Jars (light fixtures, toothbrush holder, liquid soap holder, etc.) or anything that looks “country”. This is the plan, anyway, but as many know, the best laid plans may go awry.

Then I was racking my brain trying to come with a clever name for the shed. (I have to name everything.) A dear blogging friend came to the rescue! Cattales supplied an appropriate name for the new cabin: The Bird House. Clever, huh?! Why didn’t I think of that.

So that's been our week so far. What have y'all been up to?

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ A Watchman For Israel And The Apostle Of Grace

A Watchman For Israel And The Apostle Of Grace 

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society

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“…I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at My mouth, and warn them from Me” (Ezek. 33:7).

The Prophet Ezekiel was appointed by God as a “watchman” over the house of Israel. He was held responsible to warn the wicked from their way, for while God must deal justly with sin, He had declared: “I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live” (Verse 11).

If Ezekiel failed to warn the wicked they would die in their sins, but their blood would be required at his hand. If he faithfully warned them, however, and they refused to heed the warning, they would die in their sins, but he would be absolved of all responsibility (See Verses 8 and 9).

Would some Christian reader remind us that we are living under another dispensation and that our message is one of grace? True enough, but this does not diminish, it increases our responsibility toward the lost.

“For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle?” (I Cor.14:8).

If we believers carelessly allow the lost to go to Christless graves, are we not morally responsible for their doom? Will we not be held accountable at the Judgment Seat of Christ? (See II Corinthians 5:10,11). This is why we find Paul reminding the Ephesian elders that he had not ceased to “warn” men “night and day with tears” (Acts 20:31).

As the apostle looked back over his ministry among the Ephesians he could say: “I take you to record this day that I am pure from the blood of all men” (Verse 26). And this had been so of his ministry in general. Indeed, it was now his desire that whatever the cost, he “might finish his course with joy, and the ministry which he had received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God” (Verse 24).

May Ezekiel, and the Apostle Paul, that great warrior for the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, be memorials to us — of our great responsibility toward the lost!

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To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.