A Life Lived Well

By Brenda Black

Funerals are not among my top favorite social gatherings. My ability to empathize deeply makes ministry to the grieving emotionally draining personally. Still, we count it an honor to be there for people when they need us most. Together, my pastor husband and I have counseled and comforted, preached and sung our way through a hundred sad gatherings and sorrowful good byes. How wonderful when those farewells can celebrate life more than bemoan death.

Recently, the mourners came in smiling, laughing and honoring a long and lovely life. Though little Ruthella fell shy of 5 foot, she cast a long shadow over her community and left a legacy. She lived life well for nearly 97 years. That's a lot of time. Time to be born and time to die. Time to plant and time to uproot. Time to tear down and time to build. Time to weep and time to laugh. Time to mourn and time to dance. Time to love and time to hate. Time for war and time for peace. Though she racked up decades of opportunities to do it all, she was content to just do what she did best, and bloom right where she was planted.

Her vast extended family remembered a woman who spent most of that time living, planting, building, laughing, dancing and loving on all of them. She chose kindness, forgiveness and gentleness, whether enduring hefty trials or just every day messes. According to those who knew her best, she never lost her temper, never raised her voice. She just took it all in stride with an easy-going demeanor. Perhaps her longevity was due to her passivity. She let a whole lot roll off her near-to-the-ground shoulders that could have weighed the little lady down. She resisted the temptation to retaliate. As a result, she wore grace as her garment instead of rage. Her pattern must be the healthy path to take. It obviously served her well.

It is a fact, that the opposite is true. A person filled with anger destroys himself and his reputation. Hot-tempered fools self-destruct from high blood pressure, heart attacks and ulcers. They poison relationships and create animosity and enemies.

Hate begets hate. Rage embitters and distances. But a quiet and gentle spirit produces peace and praise. Ruthella's example left a big, beautiful wake of grace.

Frankly, I'd like to live more in her tiny boots than walk in big, worldly shoes. I'm tired of the rage and rants in society. Everybody seems to have a bone to pick. At the drop of a hat, we come out with dukes up and fighting mad over any little thing. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). I'd just like to see more of it devoted to good things. Maybe if we lived more like Ruthella and less like rebels, always with a cause, we'd live life well and others would want it to be long.

Shakin' in Our Boots

by Brenda Black

Boot scoot boogie has a whole new meaning in the Missouri boot heel lately. The dirt beneath farmers' boots may seem a bit less steady with earthquakes rumbling below the surface. Sikeston, West Plains and Festus were all rocked this past month.

While Missouri trembles, so does another “M” state at the opposite end of the Missouri River where a 4.8 magnitude quake tickled Bozeman this week. Some will claim that an earthquake in Yellowstone National Park could awaken a volcano that could wipe out the planet. And a teeth-rattling tremor in the Midwest could take out bridges from K.C. to D.C.

Should all this news have us shaking in our boots?

Earthquakes are not rare in Missouri. In the past year, the earth moved 118 times in the Show Me State. I remember feeling my first rolling sensation about a year ago. The New Madrid Seismic Zone (NMSZ) is the culprit, but she hasn't really shifted significantly since the winter of 1811-12, when three earthquakes, estimated at magnitude 7.0 or greater occurred. Though the fault line has slumbered for a couple hundred years, there is no reason to think she could not rouse again. In fact, some predictions say it is bound to happen within the next 50 years.

The NMSZ, located in southeastern Missouri, northeastern Arkansas, western Tennessee, western Kentucky and southern Illinois, is the nation's most active seismic zone east of the Rocky Mountains. Over the entire course, nearly 200 earthquakes occur each year. Most go unnoticed, but should a big one rock the boot heel back on her spur, it could be felt half way across the nation. According to Central United States EarthquakeConsortium, “Earthquakes in the central or eastern United States effect much larger areas than earthquakes of similar magnitude in the western United States. For example, the San Francisco, California, earthquake of 1906 (magnitude 7.8) was felt 350 miles away in the middle of Nevada, whereas the New Madrid earthquake of December 1811 rang church bells in Boston, Massachusetts, 1,000 miles away. Differences in geology east and west of the Rocky Mountains cause this strong contrast.”

Just because we haven't felt the earth move under our feet, doesn't mean we won't. Just because the geysers in Wyoming haven't spewed hot lava, doesn't mean they can't. But just because disaster is always a shake away, doesn't mean we have to live in dread or fear.

"There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. Men will fain from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near (Luke 21:25-28)."

The best advice I've ever received came from a very wise woman and seems most applicable here. “Be prepared for the worst, but hope for the best.” Isn't that the Christian's perfect plan? Know where you're going by knowing the Lord. And know that the destiny is perfectly unshakeable.

"We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved (Romans 8:22-24a)."

Be prepared. Be filled with peace. Be hopeful. "Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our god is a consuming fire (Hebrews 12:28-29)."

That's all we can really do since we are not the center of the universe.

The Multi Tasks of Trust and Release

By Brenda Black

Multitasking used to serve me well. I could conquer seemingly unlimited chores simultaneously with order and ease. Oh, those were the good old days when all the neurons were firing full force. Back then, a half dozen work projects and as many personal thoughts could occupy brain space equally. Now, I'm lucky if I can remember what I'm doing one duty at a time -- while in the middle of it! Forget the little details of life. If I don't write it down, it's history. And when too many tasks are tugging for my attention, sometimes I completely shut down and simply have to reboot.

Since the brain is slowing while awake, it strikes me as most aggravating that it would be alert when I'm trying to sleep. One night this week, I sprang awake at 2:00 in the morning with matters whirring in the gray matter that should have had the courtesy to wait till sunrise at least. Last night, it occurred three times! I think in the quietness my mind races ahead. Additionally, in those still moments worries seem to explode from their hiding place where they've been tucked behind the busyness of the day, conveniently ignored.

My jolt upright was alarming enough to wake my husband the other night, who wondered what had me so keyed up. "I don't know," I lied, fully aware of the fears and worries that had just wrangled my z's and stolen my sleep. "Just breathe. Go back to sleep," I coached myself. "You can't do a thing about any of it right now."

Though I am feeling frazzled and worn from a raft of commitments already conquered, and ones yet to face, it isn't the absence of a sound night's rest that troubles me. It's my lack of trust in the One who holds the days and nights and everything that fills them. Now, not only do I have a running list of deadlines and details clicking through my noggin, but bells and whistles are going off in my head! The alarm is blaring a warning about the pattern of thought I've succumbed to in the past several days. Fretting over too much work, too many bills and too little time gave me a headache. And when I allowed myself to mentally labor over even bigger matters beyond my control, I felt a heaviness of despair start to creep over mind, body and soul.

When the head is too full, it's time to listen to the wisdom of the heart. I know I cannot handle any of this alone. I need to trust the One who knows exactly what is needed and I must release the worries to Him. But that is often easier said than done!

My human struggle is nothing new to God. The book of Psalm, chapter 107 highlights the failings of humanity and proclaims the gracious patience of God who redeems and restores those who wrestle between feelings and faith. “Some wandered in desert wastelands, finding no way...they were hungry and thirsty and their lives ebbed away.” “Some sat in darkness and the deepest gloom...” “Some became fools through their rebellious ways and suffered affliction because of their iniquities.” “Others...in their peril, their courage melted away...”

In every instance God meets the weary and wounded, the faltering and foolish with His great power and love. When they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, “he delivered them from their distress.” “He saved them...” “He sent forth his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave.” “He stilled the storm to a whisper.” “He lifted the needy out of their affliction.”

This particular song ends with “Whoever is wise, let him heed these things and consider the great love of the Lord.” (Ps. 107:43)

 My multi tasks for today: heed and consider, trust and release. Then get some sleep. I pray you'll do the same.

Missing Pieces on the Page

By Brenda Black

I anticipated this year to be challenging for a number of reasons. The catalog of pending events, assignments, appointments and duties burgeoned before I ever turned the calendar page. It was filled with hard stuff like surgeries and a root canal; dotted with fun stuff I enjoy. The blank white boxes day after day, I branded with meetings and deadlines. Welcome work. Volunteer tasks. Important people. Then it was gone. One unexpected computer crash later and I'm piecing my agenda back together.

Some events are recurring, predictable and easily recalled while other dates logged far in advance seem vague. Bit by bit, I remember and quickly jot them down before that recollection fades. How dependent I have become on technology is a sign of these modern times and my aging brain. How full my life has become seems to correlate with the easy access of gadgetry. I'm learning more and more that just because it is deftly entered data, doesn't mean it will be as easily accomplished. BUT, it is achievable, doable, possible, attainable. AND it just might be remarkable to trust God more, depend on His strength and see Him assemble what is necessary and beneficial and eliminate what is of lesser worth.

So as I start my day earlier than usual, after staying up late as normal, I am reminded anew that I'm never completely in control of anything tangible...or digital. I have one task over which I have sovereignty: The choice I make to lean on the Lord and trust His provision and supremacy.

Wise Solomon learned it long before me and challenged everyone to follow such a trustworthy King.

“Obey the king's command, I say, because you took an oath before God. Do not be in a hurry to leave the king's presence. Do not stand up for a bad cause, for he will do whatever he pleases. Since a king's word is supreme, who can say to him, 'What are you doing?'

“Whoever obeys his command will come to no harm, and the wise heart will know the proper time and procedure. For there is a proper time and procedure for every matter, though a man's misery weighs heavily upon him.

“Since no man knows the future, who can tell him what is to come? ” (Ecclesiastes 8:2-7)

Either I look at this word of instruction as gloom and doom or I embrace it as gracious, blissful ignorance. I don't know what waits around the corner. I can't predict the future, I know not how long I have to live and work and love and learn. But I do know the One who has it all under control. The King of Kings!

Though life is busy and inconvenient at times, God is never too busy to care about every scribble I mark on the calendar of my life. He cares. I know this full well. And that is what keeps me sane in the midst of everyday trials. It keeps it all in perspective and helps me realize that nothing temporary is life or death panic worthy. And even life and death are of no concern when the Lord God Himself knows every day ever written for me.

All too often, God is the missing piece. We've alloted Him no time. We've not sought His wisdom nor asked for His help. And when we hit a crisis or crash, we are incapacitated. Your days do not have to be lived that way. The Lord Jesus Christ is waiting to fill your life with the missing peace.

Six Bucks and Counting

Six Bucks and Counting

From the driver's seat with my cell phone camera. 

By Brenda Black

Some guys pride themselves in being “chick magnets.” Well, I can top that! I attract the bucks. Now either these massive, gorgeous fellas are helplessly drawn by the Jovan Musk scent I'm wearing or they know I'm not packing a gun. Six times in the past week, I've come nearly nose to nose with Missouri's regal rack-bearing cervine. Granted a couple of the golden giants have been in full-tilt flight and 75 yards away, but the ones I've seen so near I could chuck a rock, have caused me to stop and marvel.

Standing at the fence, face to face.
Oh for my good camera that would have reflected
the nearness and beauty of this big buck.

Most die-hard deer hunters this past week got up on gusty and frigid mornings and traipsed through the dark to climb 20 feet into the air, and sit on a metal seat the size of a postage stamp. I, on the other hand, have been enjoying deer scenery during a drive or country jog and while gazing out the window of my heated, ground-level office.

The most recent encounter had me chuckling. There he lay, in plain site, not 40 yards from me. After the double take, I stopped the car and put her in reverse. He never moved. He just lay there chewing his cud and sunning. I rolled down my window and lifted the only proof-maker in my possession – the camera on my cell phone. Since he didn't budge, I thought maybe he was wounded. Curiosity opened the car door and I stepped up a short embankment, barely camouflaged by a scrawny cedar and some straggling brush. I did not creep. I just walked up to the fence line as if to greet a backyard neighbor. He looked me over, kept chewing his cud while a snapped and saved a few more shots. Finally, he decided it was time to stand. We assessed one another for a smattering of seconds before he trotted slowly, and quite without injury, into the timber. Thank You, God! How beautiful and priceless.

His casual exit. I cannot explain his lack of panic,
nor can I explain why my cell phone
made the picture blue.  

Now, I say this with the utmost respect for Missouri's outdoor sportsmen. The contents of my freezer and the trophy mounts from successful hunts by my sons are evidence I believe in the legal harvest of venison. But this time, in radiant daylight, along a gravel road, it was not about a kill, but about life.

Life: it comes and goes. We change and grow. It aches and achieves; grieves and adores. Life as we know it never is certain. And life is filled with blessings and curses. While I've been counting bucks this past week, I've been counting the cost of decisions I make and counting the days as fleeting and fragile. Though I'd like to lie in the sun and feel no threat as Mr. Buck did, I know that life is short and the world is not such a safe place. But there is something to be said for quiet confidence in the midst of uncertain times. And to this buck who acted brave and calm in the height of firearm season, I'd like to say, “Thanks for modeling such a noble attitude.”

“In you, O Lord, I have taken refuge; let me never be put to shame. Rescue me and deliver me in your righteousness; turn your ear to me and save me. Be my rock of refuge, to which I can always go; give the command to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress. Deliver me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked, from the grasp of evil and cruel men. For you have been my hope, O Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth. From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother's womb. I will ever praise you... But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteousness, of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure.” (Psalm 71:1-6, 14-15)

With what days I am given, I hereby profess I will spend as many as possible soaking up the SON and chewing on the Word of God with quiet confidence. I'm counting on the truth that God knows all and God knows best. And sometimes He gives us the most unusual peace so we can lie down and just rest, no matter the circumstances.

Post Election Relief

By Brenda Black

By the time this column is published, we may or may not have elected a new president. Just one day prior to the big day, political pundits predicted corruption and a contested outcome. Frankly, the campaign has made me nauseous. That our country became so dismantled and divided in a few short, but excruciating four years, is hard to imagine. Unfortunately this is not just a fleeting nightmare. It is a reality born, fed and reared on selfishness and ignorance.

“But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God – having a form of godliness but denying its power...” (2 Timothy 3:1-5a)

Wow! Sounds like campaign ads and rude debates. Sounds like platforms and stump speeches. Sounds like people who have wandered far from truth. The proud and abusive have redistributed unearned wealth to themselves and unmerited revenge on everyone else. Blind, willful ignorance, void of godly discernment, has become the new “common” sense. It all sounds like trouble and feels like heartache and it makes me sick!

People who take and take, but never contribute will suck the life out of this nation. Leaders who shame us and fail to defend us will destroy America from within and without. Projected results paint a dismal picture as election day comes to an end, yet one thing seems certain. A country that will not acknowledge the supreme authority of God will face judgment no matter who claims the title POTUS.

On the UP side, I also know, regardless the outcome, my God is still sovereign. He is faithful and undisturbed. Now that's relief for the heart burn I've been feeling! Remember, God is in control!

“For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.” (Ephesians 1:15-23)

No human can thwart God's majesty nor undermine His authority. “So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord...But join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God, who has saved us and called us to a holy life – not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” (2 Tim. 1:8-10)

It seems to me most logical to depend more on a God who conquered death than on any mortal man. “...I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.” (2 Tim. 1:12b)

The power of a resurrected Christ and the supreme authority of the Almighty God overshadows everything else. I don't understand it all, but I do believe that we are living in unprecedented times and the Lord is coming soon. His church better be ready and be watching. And it's about time for a REVIVAL in this country, the likes of which I've never seen. It would be nice to see people truly hungry for God and flocking to the Lord's House to worship Him. Having served in ministry for 27 years, I'd certainly like to witness people more desperate for God. If that takes getting uncomfortable with this world, then I think we might have a fighting chance of seeing more souls saved and Christ's glorious return. And that, my friends is truly Good News.

If you need some post election relief, turn to the Savior of the World to find your peace.

Copyright 2012 The Word's Out - Brenda Black

How Peace is Possible

By Brenda Black

While remembering the tragedy and terror of 11 years ago, we are freshly reminded again this week in a new and offensive way just how far we have not come, and how old wounds never heal if they keep being ripped open and salt poured on them. As much as I'd like to lash out at the heinous violence that cut such a deep gash in our American soul and has continued to stab her heart for more than a decade, I'll refrain. As much as I'd like to rebuke the ignorant methods we've employed to secure safety since 2011, I'll keep my mouth shut. As much as I'd like to rant about the political ignorance that whittles away at our worldwide credibility and here on U.S. soil, I won't. Anyone with half a brain and one crossed eye can see hate and ignorance. No need for a spotlight or a commentator.

Neither will hateful acts the world over cease until there is perfect peace. Don't go looking for it as a result of puny, ill-timed and insulting apologies. Don't think it will arrive on the tails of brutal force. Peace may be sought and prayed for, but it will not come in a world that forsakes the true God of Peace – Jehovah God

It has been estimated that out of 3,530 years of recorded history, there were 286 years of peace, 14,351 of war and 3.64 billion people killed. More than 8,000 "peace" treaties were made and broken. That's a pretty lousy platform on which to place the possibility of long-term peace here on earth. For, most certainly, the numbers have increased abundantly on the war and death side since these figures were documented.

Why no peace? People have forgotten Jehovah Shalom “The Lord is Peace.” As Jehovah-jireh, God provides redemption from bondage. As Jehovah-rophe, He heals sicknesses and sorrows. Jehovah-nissi is our banner of victory, but we suffer defeats because we turn our back on Him. When we deny the power and provision of God Almighty, we lose our peace and we lose our liberty.

The One True God alone can heal the broken hearted. He is the God who sees and the God who cares. We cried out to Him when the Twin Towers fell. We pulled together as a grieving nation and professed sweeping faith in Jesus...for a little while. Then we went back to our wicked, self-centered ways. And lately, it seems with an arrogant vengeance, we shout out “NO!” to having God in our lives at all!

Still, He waits, longing to rescue us and deliver peace if only we would trust Him and obey. Ironically Psalm 9:11 begins “Sing praises to the Lord, enthroned in Zion; proclaim among the nations what he has done.” It continues through verse 20: “For he who avenges blood remembers; he does not ignore the cry of the afflicted. O Lord, see how my enemies persecute me! Have mercy and lift me up from the gates of death, that I may declare your praises in the gates of the Daughter of Zion and there rejoice in your salvation. The nations have fallen into the pit they have dug; their feet are caught in the net they have hidden. The Lord is known by his justice; the wicked are ensnared by the work of their hands. The wicked return to the grave, all the nations that forget God. But the needy will not always be forgotten, nor the hope of the afflicted ever perish. Arise, O Lord, let not man triumph; let the nations be judged in your presence. Strike them with terror, O Lord; let the nations know they are but men.”

This passage in Psalm ends with a musical term“Selah,” which means to give pause and think. So think about this: Peace will not come through murderous intolerance. It will not come to one who is indifferent. Peace is not possible apart from the Holy Spirit living in the hearts of men, convicting them of sin.

“Those who live according to the sinful nature have their minds set on what that nature desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind of sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace...” (Romans 8:5-6)

For years, I've prayed over my sons a blessing that ends “May the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.” And to you who read this column today, I give you a blessing as well: “May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through.” (1 Thessalonians 5:23a)

He's our only chance, our only hope, our only peace in a world defiled by hate.

copyright 2012 - The Word's Out - Brenda Black

Pitter-Pat Perspective

By Brenda Black

Sorry, I can't help but talk about it since the only chance for rain is to bring it up in conversation. It's a disaster – literally. More than 1,000 counties in 26 states are being named natural-disaster areas due to drought; it's the biggest such declaration EVER by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Day by scorching day, more brown grass is ground into powder while ponds evaporate into searing skies. And there's not a thing we can do about it, but wait and pray and try to not go crazy with fear or worry.

And if that's not depressing enough, it's an election year. Great! More hot air! No rain mixed with all the lies and allegations that leave us desperate for someone in whom we can place genuine trust equals a parched and perturbed people. Moods are down, crime is up and hope has blown away with the incessant winds. And here we sit, steaming and stewing and worrying just how bad can it get. Stop! This meltdown needs some perspective.

While I have bemoaned my pitiful green bean crop, my tomatoes have flourished in this gigantic hot house. So I will be thankful. While the pastures have withered to dust, our cattle are holding their own amazingly well. God made them hearty. As we watch the horizon day after day, yearning for wet relief, we still have a chance at recovery. Fall is coming, cooling temps and the possibility of snow this winter are not entirely impossible here in Missouri.

Midwest weather is fickle and the humidity we often curse may well be our rescuer at some point this desperate year. Whereas those who dwell in the arid mountains and windswept plains in the Northwest have already lost everything. I just spoke with a lady in South Dakota this week. The blessed rains they prayed for brought damaging hail to the tune of 700 acres of pasture lost and 300 pairs of cows and calves without grass. And neighbors in Montana experienced the horrors of watching their livestock and land consumed by raging wildfires. I can't imagine the devastation or heartache. It's so much more than property; this marriage to the soil and the forage and the animals who dwell upon it is an extension of our very humanity. Even those in urban communities may finally realize groceries aren't grown on store shelves.

It all could be so horribly depressing, so overwhelming and defeating if it weren't for perspective. When countries are ravaged by war, fierce and hopeful leaders challenge their people to rebuild. When unplanned hardships strangle us, the resilient look in and look up for sustenance.

Look in! “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-7)

Pray for rain. Pray for peace.

Look up! Every day, I find some obscure little cloud, or distant haze and say to my family: “That could have some rain in it.” For the most part, they scoff at me and call me crazy. But it's my way of keeping a sense of humor in the mix and expressing faith in a God who can take a cloud the size of a fist and turn it in to a gully washing! “...whatever is true...whatever is lovely...if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things...And the God of peace will be with you.” (Ph. 4:8-9 selected) Perspective.

If blistering air has chaffed your normally cheerful self, how long will you let it infiltrate every part of your life? What good does it do to gripe and fret, fuss and fume over something we cannot change without the hand of God? There's a better way even if it doesn't get wetter. Get perspective by choosing to dwell on what is good and praiseworthy. Rejoice in the Lord ALWAYS, when it rains and when it doesn't.

May God heal our land and help us to be patient while we wait for the pitter-pat of rain.

A Hand for the Humble

By Brenda Black

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:6-7)

Humility is not only antithetical to arrogance. Humility is the opposite of self-reliance. I'm fairly certain that it is prideful independence which ushers in a whole lot of anxiety in my life. When I try to handle it in my own strength, with my own ideas, I tend to borrow a bushel of cares. Fear is one of the biggies in that basket I haul around on stooped shoulders of dread.

While some would say courage will conquer the fear, I have learned that surrender goes a long way. Letting it go and laying it down for the Lord to pick up is far less frightening. But it sure takes far more faith.

I was filled with apprehension one day last week. I wanted to crawl in a hole or run away and visualized a dozen other cowardly cliches. I wasn't facing a firing squad, just uncertainty and an uncomfortable situation. Suffice it to say, I thought opting for avoidance would be less painful than what I feared I would face that day.

Since I couldn't just quit life, I crawled in my car and drove toward the dreaded unknown. That's when the Lord took over and soothed the anxiety. While I wrestled with doubt and loathed my own weakness, God whispered words of strength and assurance. The radio played song after song that spoke of courage and Christian witness. I was reminded that it is never wrong to do the right thing and that God honors those who take the high road when they've been cut to the core.

By the time I had to face my fear, I was filled with peace. And I'm here to tell you, nothing that I had imagined happened. I fretted and created an entire event in my mind never realized. In fact, just the opposite took place when I surrendered my fear. I humbled myself under God's mighty hand. I did what was right. I trusted Him and He lifted me up in due time. I cast my anxiety on Him and He cared for me in amazing ways. Instead of being injured further, I was praised and encouraged and esteemed.

I knew I had done nothing deserving of mistreatment. But I also have lived long enough and dealt with enough people to know that is no guarantee you won't be harmed. To see the Lord so just in my behalf is overwhelming. He really cares! He really cares! My God is not so big and removed that He doesn't see pitiful worries in my little world. He really cares!

Without great detail, you may not be able to comprehend the sweeping relief I felt. You can't understand how incredible it feels for righteousness to win a round!

I determined I would return hatefulness with kindness. Proverbs 25:21-22 says, “If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head, and the Lord will reward you.”

Though I didn't wish for pain and suffering on my friend who was acting like an enemy, I did long to be a peacemaker and be counted among the sons of God. And I know that when I choose to live for Him, heavenly rewards are promised. (Matthew 5:9-12) What's super neat is when some little rewards come while we are still here on earth.

The ride home was much less stressful. My heart was free from fear. My mind relieved of worry. But, boy howdy was I thirsty! I pulled into Ruby Tuesdays to acquire one of their fabulous peach teas for the road. A handsome and cheerful young man offered a seat and I countered with my mission. “I just want a peach tea to go.” He returned with beloved beverage in hand and I pulled out my wallet to settle the account. With a big grin and sparkling eyes, that angelic man said to me, “Don't worry about it.” I questioned his intention, then quickly thanked him profusely and said, “God bless you!” exuberantly. “It's only tea,” he said when he turned to leave. But it wasn't just tea to me. I left feeling lighter and feeling loved. A tear rolled down my cheek and I smiled up at God.

Humble yourself that He may lift you up. What a sweet, peachy reward.

A Peace of Christmas

A Peace of Christmas

By Brenda Black

On the night Christ was born angels left shepherds stunned and speechless until they saw the child for themselves. Then they could not help but spread the word. Sheep and donkey and cattle moved over in the stable to make room in their manger. Mary shivered from cold night air and trembled at the thought of the babe she just bore. Joseph shook his head and wondered how he could provide for a king on a carpenter's budget. And the Christ-child, the Messiah Ruler for all ages, rested peacefully.

The greatest gift God sent was His Savior Son who made redemption possible through the sacrifice He offered 33 years later on a cross. Within this package wrapped in miracles and mercy is another blessed treasure. The baby brought peace to those who remain in the center of God's perfect will. A Messiah wrapped in cloth, lying in a manger in the City of David modeled life with the Father, as he slept in perfect peace, even in a dirty barn located in a busy city.

Are you ready for Christmas? Ready or not – it's here! The standard greeting begins about three weeks out and the answers are typically offered with heavy sighs, intense expression and overall dread as days dwindle all too quickly on their race toward the big event. Are you feeling the pressure rather than the peace this Christmas Eve?

How sad that Christmas has become such a chore. Too bad that the simplistic celebrations just won't suffice anymore. We enslave ourselves to hustle and bustle and spend frenzies only to whisk to and through this precious holiday as if it were just another inconvenience. Give me peace for a gift this Christmas. That's all I really need.

Next to headlines that report Christmas bargains and Santa's office hours are those that blare doom and gloom or ugly political turmoil. Crime in the streets, financial nightmares and gross indecency are prime time topics sandwiched between Christmas classics. Horrible assaults on all that is good, holy, righteous and true are common fare in today's society. While sin is glorified and God mocked, give me peace for a gift this Christmas. That's what I really want.

The lights, the lines, the baking, the traffic; the shopping and rushing and headaches are not what the Lord intended. He sent His Son as an infant with basic needs of love and touch and food and warmth. He longed for us to love Him, not lavish him or spoil him. It doesn't take much to give a child what they long for most. Give them peace for a gift this Christmas - your time and tender attention. Read the true story found in Luke 2, as you snuggle for a few moments. That's what they need most.

I love the family gatherings, the church programs, the decorations and cards filled with news from friends far and near. I get weepy and melancholy when I hear of noble acts of Christmas charity. I feel guilty when the gifts I buy seem to fall short of the love I really have for the recipient. The smells and sounds trigger childhood memories even as I attempt to create new traditions for my own legacy. But in all of this, I do not find the one simple element most desired. I cannot find peace wrapped in perfect packages. I will not taste it in sweet delicacies nor hear it in seasonal songs about snow and sleigh bells. I won't see it flashing in bulbs on a tree. The only place where I'll find peace is way down deep inside of me, planted there by the Holy Spirit and longing to be embraced. Give me the gift within – give me peace this Christmas. That's why Jesus came! It's all we really need.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6)

Play Ball

Play Ball
By Brenda Black

Major League Baseball Division Series play is underway! For the faithful fans of America's iconic sport, here's one....two.....three....striking stories to commemorate the finish of our nation's summer addiction.

FAST BALL: The Minnesota Twins had acquired a new pitching coach, Johnny Sain, back in 1966. During spring training he silently watched pitcher Jim Katt perform. Then called him in for a personal chat.

"Jim," said Sain, "I've been watching you pitch. Tell me, what are your four best pitches?"

Kaat responded, "My best pitch is my fastball. Then comes my curve. My slider and changeup are third and fourth."

"What pitch do you spend the most time practicing?" asked Sain.

"My slider and changeup," said Kaat. "If I can improve on those two pitches, I know I'll have a good season."

Sain looked at Kaat, pondered his comments, and then responded, "I see it a little differently, Jim, and want you to take a different approach. Work on your fastball. I know it's your favorite pitch, so go out there in practice, warm-ups, and during games, and concentrate on your fastball. Throw your fastball 80 to 90 percent of the time all year, and you'll win a lot of games."

Kaat left Sain's office stunned. He had expected expert tips for improving his changeup or slider. At least Sain could have provided some advice for smoothing out his second-best pitch, the curve ball! Telling him to do more of what he already did best didn't make much sense.

But he listened. That season Jim Kaat threw fastball after fastball. Kaat said he thought his arm was going to fall off! But, he heeded the advice of his coach-- and thanks to his fastball, Jim Kaat won 26 games that year, and was named pitcher of the year in the American League. ("Speaker's Source-book 2" (Prentice-Hall), pp. 7-8)

FOUL: From a perfected pitcher to a sloppy hitter, the next story documents the messiest foul ball in baseball history. When a pitch was fouled over the Boston grandstand in 1903, no one thought much of it----at first. But the ball bounced onto a neighboring factory and lodged itself in the shutoff mechanism of a steam whistle. When workers at other factories heard the non-stop noise, they assumed there was a fire somewhere and they fled their factories. In a factory that made baked beans, an evacuating worker forgot to shut down the giant vat in which the beans were cooking. Minutes later, the vat exploded, blowing the roof off the factory and showering fans in the ballpark with tons of Boston Baked Beans!

FAN FAIR: Fans may have needed spoons and napkins in 1903 when it rained baked beans, but humble pie was served along with some kleenex during one of Babe Ruth's final professional games. In his career, Babe hit 714 home runs, but toward the end, the aging Babe racked up errors in field play that turned fans into foes. During one of his last games as a pro, he fumbled the ball several times. In one inning alone, his errors were the main reason the opposing team scored five runs. As the Babe walked off the field and headed toward the dugout, a crescendo of derisive yelling and booing reached his ears. It was a humiliating moment for that great athlete who had been the number one idol of baseball fans for so many years.

At his lowest moment, a boy jumped over the railing onto the playing field. With tears streaming down his face, he knelt before his hero and threw his arms around his legs. Ruth took the boy's hand and lifted him up. He hugged him, then set him on his feet, patting him gently on the head.
Suddenly there was no more booing. In fact, a hush fell over the entire ballpark. The Babe and the boy melted the hearts of the crowd. ("The Preacher's Illustration Service," Jan/Feb 1997)

Just like the game of steals and hits, curves and fastballs, life off the field can be unexpected, comical and compassionate. Bring your best, laugh when the baked beans blow up, and offer grace to those who need it most. That's how you play ball like a pro and win in life.

"Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom...the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peace-makers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness." (James 3:13, 17-18)

Alone with the Masses
By Brenda Black


I slumped into the webbed patio chair and faced south. The setting sun warmed my right cheek and a tepid breeze indicated changing weather. With eyes closed, I pictured serenity, then opened them to realize it was before me. Home. Away from the clamor of barking peddlers and whirring carnival rides. Far removed from the cattle fans and generators and incessant PA announcements inviting fair goers to the next scheduled venue. I was free of the pressing crowds and the chaos. Instead I sat quietly with my black lab at my feet. Home.

My bed felt extra soft; my husband's welcome hug engulfing and safe. And the quiet was tangible that first day back at the ranch. I did not realize how stressed my constitution until I merged from State Fair hype to calm refuge surrounded by grass, sky and trees. With an audible sigh and extended push of air over pursed lips, I let the past week of noise, nary any sleep and inconvenient camping in a livestock trailer melt away from my mind and body.

Time alone is healing. Quiet moments, revealing. In this busy world it is challenging to find such solace, especially when it is needed most. At just the moment when you desire solitude, someone will seek your companionship. Mark my words.

After exhausting, hot days of fair duties, it typically bumped 11:00 p.m. before I welcomed the trickling campground shower then my make-shift bed. Ironically, at that same time most evenings, folks would show up at my trailer ready to visit. I stepped out one night to find four teens waiting for my hospitality. Another night, the daughter of an old family friend drove an hour to see us and we crammed in a life-time between 10 and 12 p.m. Night after night, as some got their second wind, mine was going flat.

It didn't change when I arrived home depleted of energy and swamped with dirty laundry and delinquent assignments. People found me – they needed a listening ear or advise. They wanted my attention and had news to share. And I obliged out of love and concern, but mostly because it is what my Lord has done.

When Jesus heard that John the Baptist had been beheaded, “he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

“As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, 'This is a remote place, and it's already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.'

“Jesus replied, 'They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.'” (Matthew 14:13-16)

In the midst of terrible grief, when Christ wanted most to be left alone to deal with the shocking news of John's heinous execution, he is called to have compassion on the masses. My heart goes out to Jesus in this circumstance. He lays aside his anguish and weariness to meet the needs of others when he needed rest himself.

After feeding 5,000 with two fish and five loaves, “immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd.” (vs. 22) He had clean up duty, bid adieu to the guests and sought once again refuge and rest. “After he had dismissed them, he went up into the hills by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.” (vs. 23-24)

I wonder how long Jesus got. Was it five minutes or an hour? Had he just found the perfect stump to be alone and spotted from atop the mountain the sea-tossed dingy filled with his friends in jeopardy. In the middle of the night, between 3 and 6 a.m., he trekked down that mountain and walked on water to help people again.

My Lord is hospitable. He is accommodating and kind. Christ is compassionate while grieving, a servant while weary and always a Savior, even when we call upon Him in the darkest span of night.

Sure, I like some quiet time for myself. I grow tired and sometimes the last thing I feel is compassion or patience for those who demand my time and energy. But then I look at my Jesus and I see the significance of service in spite of self. God will supply the energy. He will impart the wisdom or tenderness necessary to minister to those who need hospitality even when you think you don't have it to give. And when you get the opportunity to steal away with the Lord again, he'll whisper in your ear, “If you've done it unto the least of these, you've done it unto me.”

Peace comes in many forms. A gentle breeze, a tree frog serenade, a pet curled at your feet. And it also arrives in mysterious ways, such as serving others when you must depend fully on the Lord to provide the strength.

The Perfect Baby

The Perfect Baby
By Brenda Black

“The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes...” Oh the bliss. Mary was indeed highly esteemed. For the rest of us, baby days are full of wonder in different ways. We are favored with little bundles of tears and tummy aches, yet still count ourselves blessed for the privilege of motherhood.

No child is the same. One baby builds confidence, the next brings challenges. If one tries your nerves, another will be your stabilizer. No matter their temperaments, each child delivers his or her own delightful presence in this world.

My first was colicky and cranky for about twelve months! I did not sleep and was irritable myself. I cried nearly as much as the baby and rocked both of us for comfort. At about a year, that little stinker turned into the most peaceful, loving, easy-going little boy I've ever known. To this day, he is dependable and kind. He is loving and friendly. And he can sleep without any trouble!

My second seemed like a breeze when it came to sleep. For all the times I rocked the first, the second insisted I leave him be. However, baby number two capitalized on being well rested. He moved continuously in his waking hours! Running, leaping, rolling and twisting didn't begin after walking – he started before he was born!

Somehow the second seemed easier in spite of his boundless energy, mostly because I had my little helper. Big brother was my second set of hands, eyes and ears. One year of colic was worth every proud moment our first-born has since brought to our lives. And every minute of exhaustion brought us a high-energy, talented, delightful second child.

With the honor of motherhood comes happiness as well as heartache. The moaning of a herd of cows just outside my window illustrates some of the anguish. They loudly announce weaning season with their desperate bellows. In the guttural chorus are songs of separation anxiety that all mothers experience when calves or kids begin to grow and go their own way.

The instinct to protect never ends. A desire to catch them before they fall or kiss all hurt away is protocol for Moms as vividly depicted in “The Passion” during a scene where Mary labors between helping her child and avoiding the horror. As the Christ falls under the burden of a bloodied cross, Mary recalls running to her son when he tumbled as a child on a similar dusty road. She goes to her Son and lifts him once again.

That's what Moms do. We carry the burdens like they were our own. We live through every pain as if afflicted ourselves. We rejoice in their victories, soaking up the success.

It would be nice if babies came with a guarantee of no colic, no tears, no toddler crashes, no teenage tragedies. It would be comforting to not have to worry over mean bosses or deceitful friends. We'd like to think our child's life a bed of roses. But in the end, such a child is spoiled and weak. For all of life's experiences shape them into men and women we'll respect and upon which we may even depend.

Jesus may have begun life with no tears, but he grew to become “a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.” (Isaiah 53:3) Though any mother would have wished for anything but the steps he took, had he not walked them, we would be without hope. As his own mother depended on her son's redemption, we likewise need a Savior.

Whether your child is easy or challenging is a minor point. That his mother is forgiven and godly will chart the course for that child's life. Ask King Lemuel:

“The sayings of King Lemuel – an oracle his mother taught him: 'O my son, O son of my womb, O son of my vows, do not spend your strength on women, your vigor on those who ruin kings.

“'It is not for kings, O Lemuel – not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer, lest they drink and forget what the law decrees, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights...

“'Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.'” (Proverbs 31:1-5, 8-9)

Wise counsel from a mom who knew it's not how they start out in life. It's where they end up in eternity. Show them true peace by the way of the cross this Mother's Day and always.