Monday, November 29, 2010

Fellowship Song


Let me count others
Better than I —
Judging men only through Christ’s loving eye.
Sharing the Spirit in unity, Lord,
Walking in accord.

Let peace rule our hearts,
Let love be our aim,
In joyful fellowship,
Glorifying Your Name.

Let me count others,
Better than I —
Touching their hands as they pass closely by.
Bringing sweet peace to their heart, Precious Lord,
Living in Your Word.

Let peace rule our hearts,
Let love be our aim,
In joyful fellowship,
Glorifying Your Name.

Let me count others,
Better than I —
Judging men only through Christ’s loving eye.
Sharing the Spirit in unity, Lord,
Walking in accord.

I wrote this poem/song many years ago. It most definitely is not a fancy, heart-bending, heart-rending piece. Very basic. But, when it comes to fellowship, it's true. It's a good one for me to remember... keep the Lord's eyes as my focus on others, and not a critical, cynical, hyper-judgmental approach to life.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


Thought you would enjoy seeing the photos sent last week. A CD with piles of photos will eventually come to us from Make-A-Wish, but these just made me grin like crazy. Seeing Jack so happy was a huge treat. I was told that the crew sang "Happy Birthday" to him and Mark Harmon was especially warm-hearted towards him. I've never been a NCIS fan, but I'm thinking about it seriously at this moment, just because the cast and crew were such a blessing to our family by being such a blessing to Jack.

Hope you like the photos.

Saturday, November 20, 2010


I am buried in Revelation, my latest Scriptural intense focus, which, when the Lord drops a Book onto my plate, usually means reading the book over and over until the He moves me on ... so far it's been about 7 times this month, plus reading one Revelation-oriented commentary book. [Last time it was Luke, which I utilized for a number of posts last Spring.]

In that Revelation commentary book, someone had asked
the author why the judgment for people who died didn't occur immediately upon their arrival to the Lord. [Not going to fuss about all the differences in terminology/theology re: that event.] His answer was that just because the person was now gone from the earth, the continued effects of their life could go on for quite a long time; who they loved, who they blessed, how they served the Lord.... or, in all these options, didn't.

As some of you wou
ld assume, I thought of my husband. [No, he ain't perfect, I guess... but I hardly ever see him as anything but a huge blessing.] He's a quiet man, but servant-hearted and giving-oriented who can remodel homes, refinish floors, fix electric problems, handle plumbing, interior and exterior painting, build and fix computers [and give them away], and, on top of that, he's a wonderful musician. He thoroughly enjoys teaching others [especially piano and computer]. He's done all of these tasks in our homes, neighborhoods, town, other states, and in Uganda and Costa Rica.

When he dies, which I hope won't be any time soon, his effect will linger. The youngest of his present piano students, for instance, is 7 years old. He began with her when she was 5. He has about 16 students, from young to adult, and loves working with them. To have more and more would be a huge blessing to him. [Over the years, he's had many, many students, some who are now worship leaders, on worship teams, or teaching others.] The students love him. He's patient, creative, flexible, and warm; he hasn't scared any of them. Most of them move forward quickly because they want to please him. My assessment: Dave will "ripple" for a long time.

When I think of the ripple effect our lives have, it makes me stop and take a look at where I'm headed, what I'm doing, what my attitude is, and how I need to assess and reassess the questionable points. Doesn't mean I expect the Lord to keep nailing me for errors, but that He'll touch my heart and keep me moving in the right direction.

Just as all of you, I'm sure, I want to ripple, for a long time, in a good way and bring m
ore and more blessing to the Lord.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Make-A-Wish Foundation

My grandson, Jackson, turned 16 today. A week ago, Make-A-Wish contacted his family and said that he could go to L.A. from this Sunday to Wednesday. He and my daughter left Omaha yesterday morning. He's out there now going to Universal Studios, and meeting NCIS actors. The desire to go out there for this reason had been placed with them some years ago, and now, suddenly, it happened.

When Jack was 2-1/2, he was hit with a strange, and supposedly, non-serious kidney/immune system illness. Expected to be free of it by the age of 5 for certain sure -- all the doctors and nurses and specialists were convinced it would go that direction.

Well, over the years it increased and increased. He lived on prednisone and then meds to counteract the steroids. It was so hard. He had been a very extroverted toddler, and then, by the age of 3, was isolated to avoid any illness that would toss his body back into the horrific mix. It was that way for years.

In April, '09, after a number of ups and downs, his kidneys totally crashed. He was on dialysis 3 times a week until last Christmas Eve when he had a transplant... my daughter being the donor. His recovery was amazingly quick, and he's been doing well. He still is on a number of meds, of course, and has lab work done every week, but he's free of that constant frustration and fear that was poured into his heart over those years. [And so are we. I cried -- and screamed at God [sorry, if that seems offensive] -- so much during all that time as I watched what he was going through.]

So, for him to be out in L.A., being treated like a special kid, meeting actors, having his dreams fulfilled... has filled my heart with gratitude towards this organization, the donors, and my dear Lord.

What a treat.
The photo of Jack was taken five days before the transplant.

Monday, November 8, 2010


Last Saturday I walked into the large apartment with my Bhutanese "nephew", Bijay, who is 18, and I met his grandparents.

They are 85 years old. "Grandpa" is a bit taller and burlier than other refugees I have met. "Grandma" has limited hearing and is very short and very, very thin. They arrived in Omaha around midnight October 31st. A couple days earlier they left the refugee camp and made it to Kathmandu. They flew from Kathmandu to New Delhi to Brussels to Newark to Chicago to Omaha. They hadn't seen TVs before and don't understand what a computer is. [Yes, the young folks over there have that info, but not all the older ones... it's just beyond them.] They, like the others, lived with very basic housing, no internal appliances, no running water, limited, if any, electric power, outhouses, of course... and on and on. And NOW? An old "mansion-style" home reformed into apartments --with ceilings at least 10 feet high, water [hot and cold and baths and showers], a gas stove, a refrigerator, nice furnishings donated to their family,
a TV, and a computer -- a total of 9 family members living in this large 2-story place with 4 nice-sized bedrooms, something they could never have imagined -- and on and on. Leaving a camp they'd lived in for 18 years after being kicked out of Bhutan and placed in Nepal, in a very hot and tropical area -- and now here while we are headed for a normal Great Plains winter; ain't warm.

When I left the apartment and started towards home, the title is what came through my head. Can you imagine? Can I imagine it? What it would be like to be at that elderly age, never having gone anywhere -- ever, ever -- except as absolutely necessary, no trains, few roads. Now traveling all the way across the world... in a plane, over oceans, passing through enormous, over-flowing airports, given food they've never seen before, weather they could hardly imagine -- a whole different life.

What a blessing to be able to contribute in small ways to help them adjust... warm clothing, toiletries, familiar foods [a lot of theirs is similar to the Hispanic choices and we have large grocery stores with those products], and simply being welcoming and friendly. [Of course, churches, immigrant organizations, and other groups are providing 99.9999% of their needs -- but Dave and I are able to pop some small bits into the mix -- Saturday, Dave gave them the computer; yesterday, I, the anti-bug person took some BUG KILLER products-- yes!]

And MY blessings? Every time I'm in one of the several apartments I'm connected to, "my" Bhutanese bless me with juice or sweet Nepali spiced tea, and sweet rolls. And the biggest blessing? They laugh and laugh "at" me while I'm trying to explain English words and phrases to them in an animated manner -- my usual hand-active way -- or taking a shoe off and chasing down a roach to kill it. I'm so welcome around them. For the first time since I lived in Uganda I really feel "at home" -- welcome, loved for my facial expressions, appreciated for the smallest possible contributions to their lives.

However, even I, a fairly adventurous lady, when I'm 85, IF I'm ever 85, I sure don't think I could take the amazingly brave and challenging steps that were forced on "Grandma" and "Grandpa".

I can hardly imagine.

Monday, November 1, 2010

My Testimony

When I lived in the world in my sin and my shame,
You came to me often, You whispered my name.
You said, "You're a princess, not the orphan you feel".
I didn't believe You; the shame was too real.

So You sent some to tell me, "Life's more than this pain."
And my heart filled with longing to break those strong chains.
A teacher, a friend, a man on the street,
Passed by just to tell me life could be complete.

How I wished to believe them, I sought to be free,
For the freedom I'd found didn't satisfy me.
I lived in the '60's, a child of rebellion
Churning forward and back in a black, fire-hot caldron.

But You wove the web tighter, this Love-web You'd spun,
And You tightened Your grip so that I couldn't run.
And I couldn't resist You--I had to be saved.
From the curses of Sin, Death, Hell and the Grave.

I still wasn't happy although You'd received me.
The patterns of sin and abuse had deceived me.
For You were a Father, and Fathers are cruel,
With promises broken and strong hands to rule.

I learned to obey You, to yield to Your Way,
But lived in deep heart-pain, as day followed day.
As month followed month, and year followed year.
With no hope that the sunshine would ever appear.

And when a dear friend died, I mourned and I wept,
But You chose then to touch me; a promise You kept.
In the night hours of sorrow, You said, "You'll be free.
You learned to trust this man; You'll learn to trust me."

And in time that's what happened, and I'll never know how.
But I learned to walk with You like a small, trusting child.
My life wasn't easy; day by day chaos reigned.
But I knew that You loved me, so endured life's sharp pain.

Through more years of darkness, oppression and sorrow,
I grew to trust for today, and to hope for tomorrow,
For I knew since You loved me it brought You no joy
To watch as I suffered, while I saw sin employed.

And one day it happened. My bonds dropped away.
And grateful and joy-filled, I faced a Bright day.
But – without the constraints of life's darkness and pain,
In freedom, I stumbled, tripped up by those chains.

And the torment endured was new every day.
I thought Your mercies had fled, so I withered away.
Winter's ice-blasted fingers encircled our town
And, my soul, like the grasses, turned lifeless and brown.

I forgot there's a truth, in the soul and the earth:
Winter is fleeting; with Spring comes rebirth.
And You said, "Child, Watch! As Spring comes to your door,
Like the robins and lilacs, your soul I'll restore.”

You spoke the word "Queenly" to my heart every day
And reminded this waif of a much nobler Way,
And gently restoring your Fatherhood cover,
Enhanced it, with grace, as my Soul's Holy Lover.

Now with Savior and Father and Lover and Friend,
My soul knows no darkness when shadows descend.
In Your love and Your kindness my heart safely rests,
And I am, among women, most wonderfully blest.
I wrote this some time ago, based on Song of Solomon, but even today, I know that without His faithful and forceful and never-ending reconciliation, there would be no hope, no true life. I'm one grateful God-child.