Let's be frank, singleness can take it's toll. Being the age that I am, it's waaaaay too easy to throw myself a pity party. And now that I'm living on my own, seems as though I have a bit more time to me and my tumbling mess of thoughts.

But, I assure you this will not be one of those singleness-is-awful-woe-is-me entries. Being unattached is not awful. Not in the least bit.

[And as an additional disclaimer, I dislike lingering on this subject of singleness, particularly the whole being content to wait aspect. In fact, I'm quite reluctant to even write on it. It's talked about so much...in books, magazine articles, blog posts, spoken about on the radio, etc. But like it or not, what we learn in singleness is very applicable to just about any area of our lives, no matter what stage we find ourselves in.]

So bear with me for a minute. 

I was having one of those days...er, weeks. Really frustrated and felt like at one point, throwing myself on the floor and indulging in a good tantrum. [But then my momma's voice piped up and reminded me that that wouldn't do any good...and of course, Mom is always right.] Anyways, the battle over my mind and heart was raging. I felt like an exhausted warrior. I kept repeating my little mantra "God is in control. He knows what's best." The truth provided mild relief to my aching heart. My attempts to trust didn't seem to be making things easier.  

Then I remembered my one word I had chosen for 2012. Persevere. Recalling that whatever I face as a Christian is gonna eventually take some sweat and tears, and I need to roll up my spiritual sleeves and get to work. Just thinking about it almost sent me over the edge. 

Sounds dramatic, I know. But that's where I was, and I'm ever so thankful my Father takes the good, the bad and the ugly.

Over the span of a couple of days I found myself kneeling before my Lord, pouring out my "woes" and then being completely overwhelmed by the peace and strength He gave in abundance. The Spirit kept taking me back to the basics. God is sovereign, are you going to trust in that? 

As much as my mind was ready to "yes! I choose to trust!" My heart hadn't quite caught up. There was work still to do and the wrestling continued. 

Through devotionals and scripture, and yes, even the radio He was faithfully reminding me that He has the perfect design and plan in place for the story that He is weaving. A story that that crosses time and space and involves all of creation and I graciously get to be a part of it. 

All the pieces of truth that the Lord had been feeding to me came together in one big culmination when I read a particular portion of chapter ten from One God One Message by P.D. Bramsen. It went something like this, "Notice who officiated the first marriage ceremony. It was the LORD. The Scripture says, "He brought her to the man." From the start, the Creator was directly involved in the lives of the people He had created for Himself."

He has got it all in His very capable hands. Start to finish.

It's a simple truth, and in my pride I chided myself for being so immature as to not trust my loving heavenly Father. But the whole process unearthed deeper issues that needed to be addressed. And by His grace, they are being acknowledged and taken to the cross.

So, if you find yourself single right now [or if you're not, but you're waiting on the Lord's direction with a matter], don't lose heart. But find it in your Father's hands. Accept that He indeed can truly satisfy completely.

Oh hey friend, glad you could stop by. Why don' t you come in? 

Drop your bag right there.

Sit a while.

Tea? Coffee?

No need to rush. Mi casa es su casa. 

Can't wait to fill this place up with memories of sweet times with dear ones.

*cough* *cough*...Eww excuse me! Just dusting off this here blog...it's been awhile, huh?

Summer was packed. Packed to the gills. So much has gone down and many a time I've sat here composing a fine blog piece in my mind, but somehow those imaginary drafts could never quite make it the blog screen.

Time to for a revival of sorts. I've missed my blog, and what it did for me.

I find that blogging is a good exercise for my brain, stretching those thoughts-to-paper communication muscles. Plus, I've realized that it provides a certain level of accountability in time management. When I set a goal for myself to blog at least once a week, the positive pressure opens my eyes to potential blog posts through out each day and makes me set aside time to construct them.

{I'm pretty sure I'm giving myself a pep talk right now lol}

Nothing but good can come from being a bit more sensitive to how the world moves around me and the ways the One makes it move.

So over this next week I would like to bring you up to speed on the happenings of my little life. New house, new travels, trials and triumphs galore.

Here's to a renewed resolution to keep a personal (yet online? lol) testimony of God's handiwork. Cheers!

Funny little thing happened on Wednesday.

An elderly gentleman (who is not exactly gentle...but we'll get to that) brought home a lesson God has been speaking to my heart about. 

Not a day has gone by over the past couple of months that I haven't had the prodding whispers (and sometimes  shouts) from the Spirit to "...be still, and know that I am God..." I confess, my life is too hectic. Off the charts busy. It's like I have an aversion to moderation when it comes to managing my time. And I justify every commitment and each new "yes" to the simple fact that it's something worthwhile, good and can't be passed up. When I can't go one step more, and/or tired of fighting the guilty feeling that I'm ignoring concentrated time with the Lord I take a pitiful step back. In attempt to settle my mind and quiet my spirit to just sit at His feet, I quickly find that I'm like a tightly wound top.  It's near impossible to be still.

All the while, my soul craves to be saturated with Him. Saturated by quiet, alone time that can't be satisfied by my multiple Bible studies or daily reading of His word. We're talking a solid couple of hours, or however long it takes.

And yet, I just continue to shamefully let more time to pass. Filling up the days "doing" when I should just "be." It's sad when you have to look at your calendar to schedule solitude time with the Lord...

Thus the burden to be still just increases.

So this elderly gentleman came into the office on Wednesday. He has been in a few times, and has a reputation of sharing some crazy stories, and not exactly the clean versions, so I usually keep my distance from the cranky old man. He has lived a long time and likes doing things his way. After he left, we realized that he had forgot an important document, thus I got the pleasure of calling him. While trying to explain the situation, and I admit he makes me nervous and so I began to ramble (kind of like what I'm doing in the paragraph right now! lol), he cut me off abruptly and commanded me to "stop talking." Way to be put in my place! Haha.

While at church that evening, my conversation with the cranky-old-man came to mind and realized that I had heard his abrupt "stop talking" before, but perhaps in slightly different forms. Just the way his statement got my attention in that instance over the phone, so the Spirit was using it to grab it once again...

Time for me to just be still and listen.

Miracles do happen. Every.single.day.

Do you see them? Besides the obvious big ones, do you count the ones that are small, easy-to-go-unnoticed?

It's the small ones that escape our notice most times. But when seen, they're like a perfectly timed hug from our heavenly Father. When I take in those daily reminders of His care and oversight, it often just leaves me completely in awe that all I can mutter is a feeble "God, You are so good." 

Example...my mom had a PET scan yesterday morning. PET scans can be rather uncomfortable, especially to those that have a difficult time lying down in tight spaces. Besides having an aversion to this necessary evil, my mom has been dealing with a brutal, nagging cough...one that makes in near impossible to lie down without it near choking her when it starts. 

Do you think she coughed once during that scan? Not once.

The usual wave of anxiety came over her, but she pushed through it with prayer. But absolutely no brutal coughing.  

Thank you Lord for that miracle. You are so good, so very good.

In my purse I've been carrying around a tiny rock. Not just any ordinary rock, mind you. A special rock that has unique powers. Every time my fingers run over it as I rummage for my keys, wallet or Burt's Bees lip balm it inevitably brings back a flood of memories.

Time is quickly going by, and even with my journal and pictures that chronicle my time in Haiti, many of the once vivid memories find themselves fading. And so I'm thankful for this little rock that's no bigger than quarter.

I remember very distinctly when I was given this memento. I was walking aimlessly around New Life, listening to the mixture of cries and laughter coming from the kids playing, and the soft chatter in Creole wafting from the kitchen. I stopped abruptly when I noticed a good friend bent over, intently looking at the pebble drive. "What is she doing?" I incredulously wondered. Curiosity got the best of me and I inquired what she was so focused on. "Finding heart shaped rocks," was her reply. Skeptically I asked,"have you found any?" "Here you go," she said as she placed this heart in my palm.

"No way," I thought to myself, "she actually found one among the millions of stones strewn about"...but then she found another, and another (guess there's more than I thought! lol). I slipped my heart-rock into my pocket and continued walking...in many ways, it became a symbol of my trip.

Our time in Haiti was mostly made up of rubbing shoulders with lots of different people. Whether that was at the construction sight, driving through the towns, sight-seeing, or just around New Life with the children and staff. I was so blessed to come in contact with many beautiful hearts. Many of those hearts intent on serving the King and then there were many broken hearts in pain from the effects of sin. My journal entries are constantly retelling how I chatted with so-and-so about this ministry, or that pressing need in the community, how the kids were stealing my heart, or late night worship sessions...or just enjoying a simple game of Dutch Blitz. "Spent the remainder of the day loving on the kids. Paulson, Rosena, Lovelita...and many others. Love these kids....Ate dinner with some of the group from Rhode Island. We had a beautiful time of worship in the chapel, followed by a walk through the girls dorm to say goodnight to the kiddos....It is so refreshing to be in the thick of a predominately unselfish environment. Every person here is working hard to the good of someone else....So awesome meeting new people and learning about the visions God has burdened their hearts with." I could go on and on, but you get the idea.

So many individuals came across my path. Beautiful hearts, every single one of them.

No matter where you are it's very easy to just look at the masses and not see hearts and souls. Especially in Haiti, when the needs seem so glaring. But I never want to loose the reality that each person is unique in God's eyes, special and valuable beyond description to Him. And that's what I want that tiny rock in my purse to remind me of...the lovely people I met while there, and the very individual, beautiful hearts of the people of Haiti that are in desperate need of the gospel preached, and love of Jesus exhibited.

"Give me Your eyes for just one second,

Give me Your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me Your love for humanity

Give me Your arms for the broken hearted

Ones that are far beyond my reach.

Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me Your eyes so I can see."

  - Brandon Heath

Dezyem Jou {Second Day}

January 15, 2012..."God is at work. In my heart, in this team, this orphanage and in Haiti. I can't thank the Lord enough for bringing me here."

That was scribbled after one of the more emotionally intense days spent in Haiti. After breakfast, we all piled in two vehicles and made our way to a local church. Along the way our senses were completely and utterly overwhelmed by the poverty. Of that ride I wrote, "Everywhere we go it's just more and more poverty. Real poverty. Nothing is clean and safe. Survival of the fittest is a rule that is etched on every one's faces." You just couldn't get over it.

Worship at Port-au-Prince Fellowship was simply beautiful. Very real and genuine. We were reminded once again that no matter where a person goes on this earth, God is still the same...and as we worshiped together it was a telling glimpse of what heaven will be like. So wonderfully overwhelming and refreshing.

After church and grabbing a bite to eat, we made our way around Port-au-Prince, getting a snapshot of city. And it's here that I'll let my journal pick up the remainder of the account..."We headed toward downtown, snaking our way long the dusty roads crammed with people, trash and makeshift buildings. My heart broke. I've never seen anything like it in person. So much despair and devastation. People lying on the streets, children running here and there, filthy with swollen bellies...and to think that this is the "normal" to them. This is how they exist. Life just keeps going on with little to no change, and there are very little signs of repair."

You just see need after need pass you by. The enormity of the situation overwhelms, leaving a burden that can quickly lean toward depression. Where do you start? How do you best meet the pressing needs? As we toured, it struck me how "American" my response was. Not a perspective I necessarily thought I would have to deal with as much. I mean, here's a girl that travels, devours missionary biographies, National Geographic and follows countless blogs written by missionaries in destitute places all over the globe. This American ideology shouldn't be so ingrained, should it? I quickly realized my blind spot. Our first world viewpoint shelters us with the thought that everyone must/wants to be like us. I had bought into it to some degree and found that as one takes in the evident plight of the people there is this sense of urgency to respond and alleviate. It seems only natural to desire the "less fortunate" to possess the things/opportunities we do, and in some ways that is still perfectly fine... but, as the week unfolded my preconceived notions (however noble they might be), were upstaged by a slightly different vision, one that indeed addresses pain and suffering, just in a non-mainstream way. One that I pray is more Christ-like and less American.

Beautiful Things Haiti 2012

I've been home for fifteen days now. Fifteen long days. Somehow, after being in Haiti for just one short week, home doesn't quite feel like home anymore. Don't get me wrong, loving on family, catching up with friends, taking hot showers, eating Chick-fil-a and getting some real rest in my comfy bed has been just shy of heavenly. But, something seems to be missing...

Perhaps it's my heart. I mean, I did leave it there. Haiti captured it and is holding it tight and I'm not quite sure what to do about it.

I've wanted to blog about the trip. But, words just haven't been coming easily to me. There was a lot of emotions coming off such a journey, and I tend to be the overly zealous kind about missions, living abroad and especially comforting those in need. I witnessed first-hand a lot of needs, a lot of hurting in Haiti...and a lot of healing too. So you can imagine the the tug-of-war that has ensued in my heart and mind since returning. I long to go back. There isn't a day that goes by that Haiti doesn't come to mind and work it's way into my prayers. But, as my wise mother cautioned me, "Let the dust settle from the trip and then take it to the Lord." And that's what I've set out to do.

Words such as amazing, awesome, memorable, heart-breaking and epic have been suggested to describe the time spent in Haiti. Those words don't quite cut it. It's hard to properly convey just what it's like there. The poverty, hurt, the pain...all of it is glaring evidence of our fallen world. It overwhelms your senses, rocks your world and positively challenges your perspective on humanity and the Lord.

My journal entry from my first day in Haiti..."Made it to the children's home...wow. Haiti is exactly what I thought it was going to be. Poor, desolate and ruined. But not ruined beyond repair. The phrase "There is always hope in Jesus" keeps ringing in my ears."

Victory in Christ. A theme that became overwhelmingly evident to me as the week went on.

Over the next couple of weeks...or even months...I hope to share a little more specifically what I experienced there and what the Lord taught me.

But in the meantime, here's a quick glimpse at of our time in Haiti (compiled by one of the team members!)...

I have to be up at 3:00 am tomorrow. Yep, that's three o'clock in the morning. Didn't even know that time existed.

Why so early? Because I have to catch a flight to here...

A team of 13 from Calvary Baptist, plus Cale and I are heading south for a week to do some construction work in Port-au-Prince and then spend quality time here...

Am I ready for what I'll see and experience there? No, I'm not. In fact, I'm a little nervous about this trip...and that's kind of unusual for me. I have no idea what to expect, other than being pushed way out of my comfort zone. 

In the midst of the nervousness there is a measure of calm and expectant joy to see how the Lord is going to work in and through us.  The prayers that have been uttered over the past couple of months for this team, this trip and the people we'll be serving will begin to bear visible fruit...and it's going to be a beautiful thing to watch.

Even though I'm not completely ready for the sensory overload that Haiti is sure to provide, I am eager to get out of the states, be stretched and humbled. Things get way too easy here, and complacency settles in too quickly.

If you think of it, please lift our little troop up before the Lord. We're going to need it.

T - 18 hours...

I have something I certainly shouldn't have. I mean, I really shouldn't have this in my possession.

{No, I didn't take anything.}

It was given to me, free and clear.

By the world's estimation, I should be down right discouraged. My father has been out of well-paying job for two years, our house is in foreclosure, my mother has been battling breast cancer for four...and the list doesn't end there. Things have been rough, to say the least.

But I have peace. My parents have peace. We have peace.

It doesn't make any sense. It really doesn't.

There is hardly any worry about how the bills will get covered each month, if mom's cancer will get worse, or how our tummies will be filled from week to week. There's just this peace. A peace that completely overwhelms us and leaves little room for anything else.

It's true, the peace of God really does "surpass all comprehension" as confidently stated by Paul in his letter to the Philippians. Paul would know first-hand. The guy went through so many trials, it makes anything that I might encounter on this side of heaven seem pretty trivial {review Acts 21}.

But when I run back over the obstacles that my family faces day to day, I just have to shake my head in bewilderment. Such peace defies worldly logic at every turn, the quantity is never lacking and it's readily accessible to those who, in faith in Christ, trust Him.

"Faith leads to joy and peace. Paul has found - and if we only put it to the proof, we shall also find - that the simple exercise of simple faith fills the soul with "all joy and peace." Gladness in all its variety, and in full measure, calm repose in every kind, and abundant in its still depth, will pour into my heart as water does into a vessel on condition of my taking away the barrier and opening my heart through faith. Trust, and thou shalt be calm. In the measure of thy trust shall be the measure of thy joy and peace." - Alexander Maclaren

I simply can't get over it. And nor do I want to.

God is so good.

As Christmas came and went this year, somehow the realization of how marvelous the Prince of Peace's birth is comes into focus a bit more clearly.

Thank you, Lord for the peace You give that never ends. {And for the circumstances that made the supply so much more evident.}

I've got a top-rate annoyance that just won't buzz off. This one is a real doozy. Nails on the chalk board type. Scale of 1 to 10...an 11. Every time I come within ear-shot, it takes just about everything within me to not knock it about in hopes of the racket ceasing. A good shake wouldn't hurt, right? If anything, it would relieve the tension it's causing...or I think it's causing. {But, you'll be glad to know that those years of intense "gentle and quiet spirit" training is paying off and I refrain because I know full well that it won't do any good.} But I digress.

It just won't stop. It's constant. A real irritant.

{You'll laugh when you find out what it is.}

My toilet won't stop drip-dripping. There's obviously some kind of leak going on, and instead of taking the time to figure out the problem and then a solution, I find myself getting increasingly annoyed by it. I've focused on it to such a degree that the noise just rings in my ears and I can hardly brush my teeth from the distraction. Sad, I know.

While sitting in my quiet, peaceful office earlier today all the now-apparent spiritual applications from such pesky thorn flooded my mind. I've had plenty of what the world would call "true crisis" come my way over the past month. Real downers. For example, my mother spending close to two weeks in the hospital with a nasty infection. These "big" issues are handled easily, with grace. Trusting the Lord that He has everything in control. And then there's this leaky toilet. I can hardly keep my temper under wraps...and all due to a silly little annoyance.

In some ways, it's in those silly "little" problems that we find out what we're really made of...our finiteness becomes glaringly real. Oswald Chambers wraps it up perfectly, "It is one thing to go through a crisis grandly, but another thing to go through every day glorifying God when there is no witness, no limelight, no one paying the remotest attention." (and there's certainly no one with me in the bathroom lol) It's the mean, trivial things in this world that mark our character, and to a degree, reveal our walk with Christ.

A healthy evaluation of one's self is often beneficial. Thanks, leaky toilet.  :)

Ireland.

How I will miss thee.

You have charmed me through and through.

Your green is of such a shade that words do not do it justice.

Your people have a knack for making perfect strangers fast friends.

Your love for a good laugh brightens even the dreariest of days.

Your roads are crazy. {Corkscrew Hill road, anyone?!}

Your eggs are awful.

......But your shepherds pie, soups and tea are delightful.



Someday I will return.

{pictures coming soon}

This is a friendly public service announcement to not forget or neglect old books.

They usually date back seventy-five years or so. The pages are yellowed with age, dog-eared and the inside cover is usually lovingly dedicated to so-and-so.

They're well written. Contain wholesome story plots and superb vocabulary. There's an abundance of delightful works of fiction to be found, but the real jewels are those that point you to Christ.

It's safe to say that I have a mild obsession with collecting books that are at least a hundred years older than I...and then reading them.

I've never been disappointed.

Case in point...

{Copyright 1898}

Mr. Moody is taking me through the nitty-gritty of the ten commandments like I've never quite experienced before. :)



Soft, steady rain. Check.

Hot tea. Check.

Cozy corner to curl up in? Not so much.

It's one of those days that I fancy myself tucked away somewhere with the option of reading my Bible, writing in my journal or watching movie (it has to be a movie I've seen a hundred times...pure, mindless entertainment). That somewhere could be a nook at a cafe, my room or even the library. I'm not too picky. Just a place of quiet where the soft, soothing melodies of Adele, Priscilla Ahn and Robert Schumann can work their magic on my tired self.

But, alas! there's no escaping today, nor what it holds. Thus I find myself cleverly fabricating a sense of coziness right here in my dreary little office space. Thankful for my tea, music, rain and a little corner...even if it's not quite the real thing. 

I've heard Ireland boasts cozy little spots.

{I don't look too happy in this picture...but that's probably due to lack of sleep and a nagging cough.}

Soon I'll be leaving in one of these...

For this country...

Two crazy American girls + teeny rental car + 8 days = adventures galore!

We'll be zig-zagging all over Ireland in hopes of experiencing as much of the sights and sounds that Dublin, Galway, Kilkenny, and Kilarney (and who knows what else in between) will afford us.

And the beautiful thing about this trip is that we're going simply because we can. It doesn't get much better than that.

Just twenty-five more days.

Scenario: it's another church pot-luck with the usual display of food, and young and old are eager to get in line and dig in. Ooh! Is that Mrs. Thomas' famous three-cheese lasagna?! Score! And I'll take another one of those Hawaiian rolls, please and thank you.

Situated behind the buffet counter is Rachel. She's just doing her thing. Servin' up food and chatting with each person that makes their way down the table. Rachel is quick to ask if she can get you anything else. Perhaps a drink? or a few extra napkins?

Her heart is pulled to just serve with her hands. Christ has done quite a work in her, just as He looks to do in each of us, and she is very content serving you. Not the least bit worried if there will be enough eats when everyone has made it through, or if she'll get to have that purposeful conversation with so and so. Nor is she mindful of her throbbing lower back. Meeting immediate needs is her thing.

While Rachel generously portions out food, did one of the believers turn and quietly thank her for being like Christ? My fictional character tries very hard to not desire gratitude. Pride has tripped her up one too many times and so she desires to accomplish whatever comes her way for Christ alone. Did it strike anyone that Rachel's behavior and actions exhibited the Savior?

What if we acknowledge the choices, reactions, words, and behavior that clearly reflected Christ's work in another believer's life? A little positive re-enforcement never hurt anyone. In fact, studies have clearly documented that.

Sometimes it's hard to see just how someone else might be exhibiting Christ. Let's face it, there are those in the body of believers that can be down right difficult to work with, or even be around for that matter.  Green and seasoned Christians alike. 

I was listening to a sermon earlier this week and a pastor commented that whenever one of his kids exemplifies Christ, his wife calls him and he then gets a chance reinforce that right behavior with a simple, "Heard you did this or that today. Do you know who that reminds me of?" The child always responds with, "Who, Dad?" "Christ! Good job, keep it up."

I had to stop and ask myself if I look to be such an encouragement. Do I seek out opportunities to acknowledge that Christ is shining through another believer?

Hmmm. What a concept.

Expect a report!

A new perspective, "new" gems found in the Bible, two new dresses, a spunky new yellow purse, and new travel plans. But that's not all this week was punctuated by...

BIKING. Nerf guns! Kayaking. SORE MUSCLES. new ministry. rEnEwEd resolution. DIET changes. twitter. Bible study. late night conversations on all things serious.

hysterical laughter. new friends.

My bike ride last Friday evening. Perfect way to start the weekend.

The perfect kayaking buddy!

What made this past week memorable for you?

{I'm off to enjoy a three-day weekend with the family! Yep, Labor day is pretty much my favorite holiday right now.}



It's just one of those sundress-red-shoe-wearin' kinda days! (I even spiced things up with a little blue nail polish!)  #enjoyingthelittlethingsinlife

"Hey Angel, how were the holidays for you?" I inquired of a sturdy fifth grader just stepping into the classroom after the Christmas/New Year's break.

"It was pretty good," was the cryptic answer.

Steadying my gaze on this disheveled young man, I prodded, "Do anything special?"

"Not really. Just watched my friends get drunk," he honestly replied.

"Get drunk? Were these older friends of yours?" Remembering that he had an older brother that was in and out of the juvenile correction system.

"Naw, just these eight, nine, ten and eleven year olds. They were drinking to get drunk, " he confessed as his eyes dropped their gaze from mine. "But, I didn't drink with them. I told them that it was stupid, " he quickly clarified.

As Angel caught sight of a friend and walked off I was left standing there, trying to process what I had  just heard. Eight, nine, ten and eleven year olds drinking to get drunk?! I knew kids in this neighborhood had to grow up fast...but really? A wave of sadness swept over me as I scanned the classroom, wondering what these children, all 35-40 of them were going home to that day.

Whether we acknowledge it or not this is the grim reality for many children in our communities. In the midst of the hurt there are people reaching out to bring the message of hope and truth to these young lives.

Child Evangelism Fellowship is one such group that is endeavoring to impact kids with the gospel. Thankfully, they are allowed to provide an after-school program called Good News Club to schools throughout the county. Run by volunteers on a weekly basis, they reach out to kids in your backyard through songs, games and poignant Bible lessons. {See pictures from the club I volunteered with this past school year.}

Unfortunately, these efforts often are hindered by the lack of volunteers. The club that Angel attended this past school year is waiting to begin again but can't because it doesn't have enough volunteers... yet. Would you prayerfully consider lending a hand? These Good News Clubs throughout Pinellas county are seeking people willing to invest in these children's lives for the gospel. Teaching a Bible lesson or a memory verse is not mandatory. Getting to know the kids and share the love of Christ with them is priority.

It makes a difference. An eternal difference.

Contact me for information on where you can find a club in your immediate area.

The Book of Life

A devotional from Music for the Soul by Alexander Maclaren...

"A book of remembrance was written before Him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon His name." Mal. 3:16

"The "Book of Life," it is called in the New Testament. Its designation in the Old might as well be translated "the book of living" as the "book of life." It is a register of the men who are truly alive.

Now, that is but an imaginative way of putting the common place of the New Testament, that anything which is worth calling life comes to us, not by creation or physical generation, but by being born again through faith in Jesus Christ, and by receiving into our else dead spirits the life which He bestows upon all them that trust Him. In the New Testament "life" is far more than "being"; far more than physical existence; removed by a whole world from these lower conceptions, and finding its complete explanation only in the fact that the soul which is knit to God by conscious surrender, love, aspiration, and obedience, is the only soul that really lives. All else is death - death! He "that liveth in pleasure is dead while he liveth" [1 Tim. 5:6]...In spite of all the feverish activities, the manifold vitalities, of practical and intellectual life in the world, the deepest, truest life of every man who is parted from God by alienation of will, by indifference, and neglect of love, lies sheeted and sepulchered in the depths of his own heart. Brother, there is no life worth calling life, none to which that august name can without degradation be applied except the complete life of body, soul, and spirit in lowly obedience to God in Christ. The deepest meaning of the work of the Savior is that He comes into a dead world, and breathes into the bones - very many and very dry - the breath of His own life. Christ has died for us; Christ will live in us if we will; and, unless He does, we are twice dead.

Do not put away that thought as if it were a mere pulpit metaphor. It is a metaphor, but yet in the metaphor there lies this deepest truth, which concerns us all, that only he is truly himself, and lives the highest, best, and noblest life that is possible for him who is united to Jesus Christ, and drawing from Christ his own life. "He that hath the Son hath life: he that hath not the Son hath not life" [1John 5:12]. Either my name and yours are written in the Book of Life, or they are written in the register of a cemetery. We have to make our choice which."

Is your name written in the Book of Life?