So, I am trying to see if I can transfer my videos from fb over to my blog.
I am so grateful for a hubs that enjoys driving so I can enjoy the journey.
This video is from our trip back in June with stops in Davis, CA, Bend, Eugene, Salem, Dayton, and Dallas.
I am still learning a lot about putting videos together and all the options afforded to me.
Our previous months devotional from the book of Ruth laid the backdrop to this dramatic narrative. The drama unfolds to reveal a family faced with life events, marriage, moving home, bereavement,care giving, and family relationships. It is an account of love and a beautiful commitment of to Naomi on the part of Ruth, who was willing to sacrifice her life as a care giver and provider. She was willing to forgo her own comfort.
As dramatic as these events of life are, we were reminded that God uses his people to work out His purposes for His glory.
We catch glimmers of hope no matter how desperate our circumstances. We catch glimmers of God’s lavish redeeming mercy and grace. We catch glimmers of God’s character, His provision and compassion for the needy.
What seemed like random choices was God’s hand of guidance.
Naomi and Ruth just HAPPENED to arrive at barley harvest. Ruth just HAPPENED to choose Boaz’s field, who just HAPPENED to be a bachelor and a Godly man. Ruth just HAPPENED to find favor in Boaz’s eyes and she HAPPENED to be working at the time Boaz shows up.
We catch glimmers of Boaz reflecting those character qualities of God.
With an incredible move, he is in position to bring Ruth out of her circumstances and provided abundantly.
He anticipated and met her needs by quenching her thirst, made sure she had access to water, he fed her, he made sure her baskets went home full.
A pastor summed it in these words, “We see how God providentially guides and provides in what may outwardly appear to be inconsequential moments. God does some of His most extraordinary work through ordinary events and people.”
Boaz demonstrated God’s character of God by graciously and lovingly making a widow, a foreigner a part of his family.
“All our lives are tributes to the providence of God.”
This story so far reveals how BIG the need is and designed to reveal how BIG our God is.
Whatever chaotic circumstances one finds himself in we can trust that God has, is, and will be at work.
When we care for a loved one, how do we go above and beyond in our care?
FEELINGS OF DESPAIR
PREVIOUS DEVOTIONAL SUMMARY FROM RUTH
P.D. Eastman’s book “Are You My
Mother” is a tale of a newly hatched bird attempting to figure out who his mother is. Not knowing what she looks like makes his adventure a challenge as he
is determined to find her.
I have often ask myself the same thing as my earlier years were spent at boarding school with haphazardly chosen house parents, often causing lengthy separation from both my parents and siblings.
In the 40’s young couples set out with lofty ambitions, boarding trains, ships, and planes to distant places, often devoid of the comforts and ease accustomed to fulfill the Great Commission.
It required a pioneer spirit and a willingness to endure physical and other hardships. The lengthy separations were just accepted as part of the price. Communication was painfully slow and often unreliable. One of the heaviest burdens to bear was saying goodbye, always a transient place where someone was always leaving or arriving.
I became emotionally disconnected from my parents at age six when I was sent away to begin my education. I still loved and respected them, however, the emotional dependence was severed.
Don’t get me wrong, my parents did some miraculous things but I lost the chance to have a close relationship with them, when sent away.
The pressure to be good for the sake of our parents ministry was strong, lifelong strain in relationships with family members became common.
Deep connection to the country in which I spent my childhood, and the local people who were a part of my young years remains.
I have warm memories of the food, the culture, the climate and vegetation.
My accent remains strong.
In truth, none of us were ever handed a perfect heritage. Because our parents learning by doing and limited by their weaknesses did not always offer what was needed. In light of those thoughts I do not want to be consumed with harboring negative thoughts or focusing on what could have been. Missionary life is not what it used to be.
For the accounts of my first days of school click on link below.
Everybody has a Story, My Journey Part 2
Each Thanksgiving day I am reminded of one 45 years ago. One that launched me into the darkest days of my life.
I was feeling at the top of my life. I was in my last year of Bible college and would be graduating that year and making plans for the future as newly engaged. (Later on I learned I did not have all the credits I needed so would have to continue on another year.)
The day before had been a pleasant drive from Portland to Redding. Although we shared the drive with another classmate, conversation led to many topics. The mood was festive.
The next day, a fog settled in as preparations for Thanksgiving dinner were made at the home of my fiancees parents. As I prepared for the day, I sensed a somewhat distant coldness that I had not felt before as I was greeted later that morning. Before the dinner commenced, I was told that the engagement was off and accused of not being saved and being unfit.
I was left stunned and blindsided.
It took all to hold my despair at that moment.
I felt a swift-painful betrayal. I slowly made my way back to the bedroom with tear-filled eyes.
I felt pulled and ripped apart attempting to make sense out of the words I had just heard.
I felt like everything was being taken away from me even my salvation.
I somehow forced myself to integrate my thoughts by this disturbing event and stoically went back out to join the family and proceed with much silence through out the day just wishing to get it over.
Silence ruled the trip back to school as our classmate slept in the back seat of that cramped VW bug. The atmosphere was suffocating. I felt like a dish rag that had just been thrown away.
For a year black days sent me into an emotional tail spin. My health was affected. My faith was tested. All that I had hoped for and dreamed of was gone.
Amidst this sudden and dramatic event that filled me with overwhelming sadness, I was aware of God’s strength. God’s word anchored me and continually guided me.
Even though there was still hurt, and pain, just knowing that God’s love and presence were available provided comfort.
Just knowing that God held me in the midst of this storm and was sharing my journey strengthened me.
During this tough time it was difficult to grasp the fact that God knew what was going on and had OTHER plans for me.
Forging-my-way-through-1971 CLICK HERE
The day I became a mother to an incredibly, spirited active toddler son ,was the beginning of some of the most insane days of my life.
It was then, I realized how much I had enjoyed the more peaceful, quiet times I had with my two year old daughter.
It all began with the conflicting feelings and happiness that come after having lost the previous pregnancy and expecting a colorful and bright future with this one.
Beautiful and bright rainbows follow storms, giving hope that it would be better, and bring on extraordinary amount of blessings. He was one of my rainbow babies.
One incredible March afternoon, the mid wife arrived to our single-story, boxy, brick front, and ordinary functional house, in a van. She was a petite, slightly older lady with excellent skills in delivery.
As she was pulling herself together and gathering up the needed articles for the work at hand, it was discovered that her bag of essentials was buried at the bottom of a stack of doors she had salvaged. Our neighbor graciously assisted her by taking out the stack of doors to retrieve her bag.
Our big, 9 lbs.11 oz bundle of creative trouble found his world extremely exhilarating from the start, finding many ways to excite me.
At nine months he was walking and running around, being intently curious and was everywhere attempting to enjoy exploring on his own.
He was inexplicably drawn to his daddy’s tool box. Nothing was safe. The refrigerator was the only place he had not learned to climb. He was very busy, however, all this physical activity eventually faded and gravitated in favor of worthwhile pursuits.
Even when he was three, he felt the thrill of excitement, oblivious to the fact that he was contributing to a mothers worst nightmare, he set out on his own while on a camping trip and was no where to be found for one of those gone too long times.
My mind was racing with all sorts of scenarios but God was gracious and allowed him back to us after he had hiked to the other side of the camp ground.
There are many nights, I am left with wonder and thankfulness for this extraordinary gift, my first rainbow baby.
The day began as any other except for the fact that I was due to fly back home after an extended stay after caring for my father in Auburn.
I was unusually quiet as the Jeep Cherokee pulled up to the airport drop off. I gave my son a quick hug as he pulled out my luggage and then drove away.
I continued my walk toward the terminal to check in. The smell of jet fuel permeated the air as I made my way into the building to join a long line at the security check point.
I was randomly selected for a more thorough search of my bag and pulled aside. The excitement and anticipation of my flight home was dampened a tad by that small event as I heard the whir of wheels on the long concourse by all the others making their way to their flights.
Making my way to the waiting area, a glance out the windows informed me that the skies were beginning to darken. It was obvious it was about to rain.
I made my way to a seat facing the large window to await my flight. I watched as the planes came in and were then prepared for their next flight.
As I ate a snack I continued to watch the activity down below on the tarmac until our flight was called and joined the line to board.
As we were boarding, torrents of rain ran down the sides of the windows.
As I searched for my close to window seat, the skies grew even darker. It never came to mind that perhaps it was an unsafe time to fly.
The others seemed not to really care or perhaps had been to busy trying to situate themselves in their seats and search for empty spots in the over head luggage compartments that they perhaps had not taken notice of the outside conditions. Upon settling into their seats they appeared to be lost in thought.
As I looked out the small window, we began to taxi out to the runway. The flight attendant gave her standard pre flight procedure lecture to which most appear to be bored, perhaps with the familiarity of many previous flights.
The seat next to me remained empty and the young girl in the next seat engrossed in a book.
In a few minutes we found ourselves at the end of the runway prepared for take off.
The skies continued to darken and the rain was pummeling the plane.
As the plane took off it propelled us further into that storm. A few minutes in the air and before cruising altitude an extraordinary thing happened.
As I was intently looking out the window to my right and over the wing, I watched a bolt of lightening shoot straight at me across the wing. I sat there, motionless just as
the zig of the bolt zagged striking the wing just before it reached me. Bang! The plane shuttered. I was awe-struck at seeing that bolt of lightening diverted, striking the wing, leaving a large blackened mark where it had struck.
Surprisingly I was not frightened, I, thought at that moment that I would be in Heaven in the next few seconds, and the comfort it gave me was surreal, as the feeling of morphine kicking in for the first time ever.
A few minutes later, the pilot calmly confirmed that we had been struck by lightening and had been advised to continue on to Burbank.
That day I was reminded of God's loving protection over me during that storm and through all storms of life.
