Let Me Tell You One Thing

10/26/2018 Psalm Studies Psalm 87 A psalm of the sons of Korah 1.        His foundation is in the holy mountains.                 According to Spurgeon’s Treasury of David ,   God chose to found His earthly temple upon the mountains of Zion.   These were made holy by the fact that God chose them.                 Like the mountains around Jerusalem, God also lends His attributes for the strength of the church.   He founded the church on His own power.                 Surely the writer had long contemplated the mountains and then he starts the passage with a burst of wonder and adoration. The mountains of Zion are there to witness.        2.   The Lord loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob.   ( Psalm 78:67 says He rejected the tent of Jacob).                 dwellings - mishchan (meesh-kahn) a place of residence, a tabernacle, a dwelling place.   This is from the root word shachan which is shekinah, “abiding in the presence and glory” of the L

1. Bow down Your ear, O, Lord, hear me; for I am poor and needy. 2. Preserve my life (soul) for I am holy; You are my god; save Your servant who trusts in You! Preserve: Strong's #8104 guard, keep, protect Shamar ( shah mar) a watchman, shepherd, a guard 3. Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I cry to You all day long. 4. Rejoice the soul of Your servant, for to You , O lord, I lift up my soul! 5. For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant (Hebrew rab (exceedingly) in mercy to all those who call upon You. Psalm 130:7 O Israel, hope in the Lord; for with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is abundant redemption. ' Let me just stop here and say that David had words to write that keep jumping into our hearts.  How strongly he spoke with such transparency! In the beginning of this psalm, he makes it clear that he is appealing to the Lord to hear him, guard his soul, and give salvation and mercy! Redemption flows freely and abundantly to us all.  As we

The photographs I see, when you are looking back at me, rule my heart. The intensity of your eyes, when I know what lay behind the sparkle. The passion for life, and the love you gave to so many. But saved the best for me.  Your words, your actions, your hugs and squeezes. Coffee times, reading together, working together, a part of our daily life. We were so blessed to have what we had. Now, you are in a different location, physically apart from me.  I feel the void each day. You left earth working to fulfill the mission.  A persistent, pursuant man on a mission. I know God could hardly wait to get you back!  They danced and sang your song.  The song of your arrival. Sometimes I hear the song faintly, and I smile.

May 15 2018 The one thing that most people never realizes until it happens to them is that after your husband dies suddenly, it takes awhile to catch up with it all, if you ever do catch up. For instance, my husband, Clyde, whom I married at 15 as a virgin, by the way, he was a virgin also, and the years we had together, 55 married, and two years dating, (since he was 16 and I was 13 when we met, died on November 7, 2016 in my presence and suddenly.  He fell back to the floor and was dead even though a medical team worked with him for 30 minutes or more. All of that takes quite a toll on someone's' psyche, and to compensate, the brain starts feeding itself some nulling drug so you can actually function through the funeral and the coming months.  The drug more than likely is something that is placed there for trauma victims and those survivors of those who face sudden death. It could even be why: Philippians 4:7 and the peace of God, which surpasses all understan

What kind of dance may it be, The one that only brings agony. A twist, a turn, a one, two, three. The pillow that looms close to my head, The one that tells me he is dead. A twist, a turn, a one, two, three. The pillow that lifts my knees high, The one that gives no warmth to my thigh. A twist, a turn, a one, two, three. The pillow that embraces my neck, The one that says my life is a wreck. A twist, a turn, a one, two, three. The pillow that lays close to my side, The one that pretends to be Clyde. A twist, a turn, a one, two, three. Dancing with my pillows, In a waltz of sorrow, Now and forever will feel hollow.

There has never been another piece of my furniture that calls my name; however, my bed has called out my name many times on certain occasions. For instance, when I am very tired, when I am very sick, or when I am very sleepy. I can't imagine my dining table, sofa, dishwasher or any other objects, appliances, decorations or any inanimate mass calling my name, but it seems that beds do call their owners. I began to think about how personal my bed is.   It holds me, comforts me, relaxes me, and wraps me in undisturbed sleep, rest, and tranquility.  Out of all the pieces of things I have, my bed is by far the most giving. I was having a conversation about my bed calling me recently with two other people, and I was talking with them when they also said, "I hear my bed calling my name."   I had a visual of our beds in our homes calling out to us and saying our individual names.  They were a chorus with voices raised high calling through the universe trying to reach us.

There is never a place so low as the one where you know you can not be any lower.  You know it is absolutely the lowest you can ever be and you also know that if you cannot find a way to pull up from the low place you will be in utter despair. This is the place I have found myself since my husband's death.  The absolute reality of never seeing him again this side of heaven has been devastating.  No matter the reason of your low place, there are some things we can actually anchor ourselves upon during times of sorrow and grief, frustrations or disappointments, tragedies or crisis. Recently, there was a movie, War Room, that depicted the a woman who faced all of life's battles in the war room.  It was a place of prayer.  While many women have found that to be a refuge for them, others cannot seem to find that intimate place with God in their heart.  They serve Him but they feel distant and it is difficult to establish a habitual prayer life. Here are a few additional pie

12/31/2017   Paula Day Johns Heaven Walks Away When night falls and the night sounds reach my ears, I listen with all my might anticipating a sound I fear. It is a sound that plucks the strings of my heart, A melody that is dark and foreboding about those that depart. Heaven walks away into the night song, All things bright are absorbed by the dirge. All that is left is the hole; Heaven walks away and I am left alone to purge.