There comes a time in life when we seek to find an inkling of a message, perhaps a tiny bit of hopeful inspiration. Some search the stars, some search scripture. There are a few answers, though, so blatant you have to laugh. I look no further than my lovely bride. She searched for thirty-two years to find me again. Pardon the pun, but God only knows why. But my point is some search forever to find what they want in life. In reviewing my past and its missing parts, there are things I wish happened differently, but God had His reasons. He wants us to experience the storms. They strengthen us and draw us closer to Him. Every now and again, messages become billboards, so self-explanatory of His signs. Like this ……
A little boy sat in the corner with his nose against the wall. He never realized how disruptive he was to other students. The class frowned at him, but he still didn’t understand his misbehavior during the lesson. A bell loudly rang, and kids jumped up from their desks to run to the cafeteria. Yet, a little boy deprived of lunch sat in his confusion of tears.
A speck of the blue sky reminds us of hope. Sometimes, life looks bleak and gray. We may struggle to walk to the mailbox or to replenish the empty kitchen cupboards, but one thing is for sure – God knows your pain and struggles. It is my philosophy that deep within everyone, God purposefully created a void in our soul. We may not realize it but by design, biologically, this micro-creation is an endless hole meant to be filled with hope. It drives our faith, nurtures love, and develops compassion.
A true story of God fulfilling His promises….
I sat in the pew and asked God how much faith must one believe in? The choir sang so beautiful as they echoed through the sanctuary but the prayers of a promise kept an empty seat next to me. I’m riddled by the sermon’s unanswered questions and haunted by God’s promises for my life. I meandered from the service, hoping next Sunday would be different.
Some say there’s no God, but stand beside me on this glorious night and tell me there isn’t a God in heaven above. Searching the sherbet ambiance where the waters meet the sky, we anxiously await and pray on the first star at night, however minute. In humbled reverence, we ask God to help us as we try to make a difference in the world. We set out on a journey, like a star shimmering in the heavens, knowing only God can lead us to perfection. Doing our best is all He asks, so we travel onward in His strength and righteousness.
In honor of my hometown of Annapolis, Maryland
The effervescence of ships lies waiting as dawn’s early light tells the story. The masts are still sleeping, and flags unfurl in dead silence. God’s grace patiently calls this place home. A quiet, tiny town bellows the names of victims as the unexpected has turned into reality. How many more lives must suffer as the story unfolds? Flags at half-mast fly in honor of the fallen.
On this day, may I ask, too, that we honor our innocent, fallen friends (not those in uniform on Taylor Avenue) but rather the ones greeted each morning on their way to work at the Capital-Gazette Newspaper in Annapolis, Maryland. It’s my hometown too. God bless their legacies!
My thoughts wander back to the Mondays of my younger years when I fought so hard to get up and go to work. During my school years, I always hoped a cold, and rainy Monday meant a cancellation. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life and wasted a lot of those precious days, but now I thank God for the ability to face my world of dreams. Today, the first day of the week brings me joy and positive electrons I never felt before now.
Lightning from afar signals a war is going on, but not here on earth. A disgruntled God commands His angels to disburse, for Satan’s reign is about to end. Days of drought plague our hearts as souls need water to flourish spirits. Only God knows the day and hour Satan’s reign will come to an end and the heavens will order the change of command. And in the early morning light, some speak to God our Creator telling Him; please let it rain!
I reached for a recipe in the early morning light of the holiday. My family came from far and wide to join in the festivities. We joined together to celebrate life and to thank God for one another. It was an awesome time to make memories. For generations, our family’s tradition included the ever so sweet Currant pie. But as this metaphor unfolds, it makes me wonder if some people can relate.