Jesus Slept on My Floor

By Brenda Black

“He who loves a pure heart and whose speech is gracious will have the king for his friend.” (Proverbs 22:11)

My house is not a palace. Oh, the man of the non-mansion is certainly the master and I am often treated like a queen with his love and kindness. But as for dimensions, our little home is cozy, quaint and suitable for two more than it is for twenty. But, fourteen of us played and prayed; dined and slept; showered and shaved; laughed and wept for nearly 48 hours straight! At times as many as twenty-three stood, sat or laid across every square inch of living space. And it worked! We were family, friends and strangers on Friday night. We were brothers and sisters in Christ by Sunday's end.

Pure hearts and gracious speech made the weekend delightful, even if one had to sleep with feet in their face or wait in line for the shower. Kind, respectful, flexible guests filled my home with joy worth all the clutter and crowdedness.

I lost count of the paper plates. I'm pretty sure they put away nearly a quarter of a beef, not to mention two gallons of ice cream, three pans of brownies, three gallons of milk and five pounds of tators! And with every bite, each satisfied grin, every sincere compliment, my heart was filled as my pantry emptied. I'd do it again in a heart beat!

There's something about the energy and joy in these young men and women that fuels my spirit. Their pure hearts, their gracious speech is evidence that they are friends of the King and that they love Jesus! Truly, to be in their midst is like being surrounded by Christ. I heard His laughter in Caroline's giggle. I saw His smile on Makena's face. I witnessed His compassion through hugs from Jordan. I saw His patience in Zach and His love for all creation in Janelle. I heard God's witty sense of humor in Caleb and saw His ability to turn strangers into friends through Laura. I took to heart Christ's faithfulness I saw in J.J. and fed on Christ's boundless joy through Luke. I watched my Lord practice forgiveness and sportsmanship in Cooper and Tyler and heard Him sing alto with the voice of Austin.

Jesus stayed at my house last weekend. He ate at my table. He slept on my floor. He hugged me and showed me love and appreciation and respect over and over. And I am blessed! Short nights, long days, dirty dishes galore and more wet towels than I thought I owned could not taint the pleasure of His company.

And just when I thought it couldn't be more perfect, I heard them sing and preach and watched these beautiful people worship. A praise band and collegiate preachers brought together for this one moment made our Sunday an offering fit for the King.

Luke pumped God's people when he proclaimed the powerful and supernatural love of God out of 1 John. Caleb took us back to Leviticus and into the Holy of Holies, then led us straight to the cross, revealing Christ in Old and New Testaments and His great sacrifice. Cooper shared from obvious sincerity, recounting the many ways this year God proved His sufficiency and grace. He challenged the congregation to live out 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Their willingness to serve, to speak out for Christ, and to worship joyfully sets a tremendous example for all ages.

My house is quiet, the furniture is back in place and the steady flow of cooking and cleaning has ceased. It looks as it did before they came, but something has definitely changed. I still hear the laughter and my home feels warm and wonderful. I am certain it is the lingering presence of the King.

Finding Grace in Cow Tracks and College Kids

By Brenda Black

I guess tender green sprouts and a brand-spanking new bale of hay aren't enough to stop cows from knocking down a gate and partying the night away. The evidence was prolific all around the house from fresh cow patties to deep tracks through a very soft yard. I even found cow hair on the mailbox! In the pre-dawn hours of discovery, it was comforting to know they felt right at home outside my office window where they bedded down contently. I was also extremely glad it was too early in the season to have had the garden up and growing. It would have been history!

The funniest part of my investigative discoveries were the hoof prints that traipsed right beneath our bedroom window. I had to laugh out loud when I imagined a herd of cows tip toeing quietly past, signaling to one another some kind of cow cue that clarified this was a “No Bawling Zone.” Yes, the cows had a heyday as we slept the night away. I'll never know what I missed.

I do know, however, that being able to laugh the next day at the mess was good medicine for my morning. And a chuckle out loud is hands down a great exercise. I guess I was already in a good mood and able to handle the unexpected yard invasion with a little more grace since I'd just come off a weekend of hilarity and energy in a house full of young adults where sleep was in short supply, but laughter came in plenty. Their visit also came with wit and endless ideas for how to have fun and get muddy.

They fished in the rain, tromped through the lots, and repelled down a zip line, sliding to a stop on a muddy creek bank. They played soccer and full contact football on slick, sticky and now-bared spots in the backyard. And then they came inside. Still, they left more tracks on my heart than they did the kitchen floor. They burned off the stress of college classes and small dorm rooms and I was delighted to extend a little grace and let them make themselves at home.

Laughter and grace go a long way to level or clean the muddy tracks that trample our well-laid plans and structured little worlds. And making every effort to see the up side in life and perpetuate joy reaps blessed benefits worth getting a little dirty. Hebrews 12:15a beckons us to “See to it that no one misses the grace of God...” In my country world that includes cows and college kids! The surprising reward is when I give grace, I get grace tenfold returned. Not just grace alone, but joy and peace and good memories to muddy boot!

There are many in this world that just need a soft place to traipse. They need someone to extend a little grace; someone who will get a little muddied with their messes and stresses and welcome them into a home that loves them with the love of Jesus. It may be a neighbor or stranger. It makes no difference. God's grace is sufficient. In the family of God, the tracks of camaraderie run deep and the welcome mat is always marred with precious feet.

“With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them. There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need.” (Acts 4:33-35)

I heed this lesson from the first century Christians: If home is where the heart is, then those who visit will take a piece of my heart with them when they enter and when they depart. And I'll keep the welcome mat rolled out til the cows or the college kids come home again.

Front Porch Hospitality

Front Porch Hospitality
By Brenda Black

Once upon a time, folks used to sit outside on a spring evening and talk. Neighbors knew one another and the front porch was public domain whether you lived in its attached house or two doors down. A swing, a chair, a rail and steps fashioned a gathering place. Often, those who assembled would sing or pick guitars and each one would find their part – on the porch and in the music. That's where harmony was born and that's where harmony flourished.

I was reminded of those Andy Griffith days as I pulled up another chair to join a throng of college kids all sitting serenely in front of my home and postponing their departure back to campus and studies. The social circle concluded a busy and fun weekend filled with sunshine, horseback rides, Easter egg hunts and wonderful worship. I loved their chatter as well as their silent company. Just having them in my home for a couple of days brought life and laughter and loads of singing from this group of co-eds who'd just returned from a choir tour in Washington, D.C. and New York City.

Little sleep, rich family recipes and plenty of sweets rendered me sluggish in body. But my soul was at peace, content with the final quiet moments of reflection and camaraderie. There's something melodious in witnessing a group of friends so comfortable with one another. Their friendship seemed as harmonious as their voices I'd heard blended together when they blessed our family with tidbits of their choir's repertoire. There was a sweet, sweet spirit on my porch. And I know it was the presence of the Lord in each of these delightful young adults.

How quickly the Lord has meshed their hearts and lives together along with their voices. They've come from all over the U.S. and ended up in a huddle where they feel safe enough to be themselves. What a blessing to observe their love and respect for one another and to watch them appreciate their differences. Harmony of hearts. Harmony of happiness. Harmony of hilarity. Harmony of back scratches and hugs and hopes and dreams. Their song of friendship was beautiful to hear and see.

Spending a few hours with them sent my mind back to a time when I brought home a Christian band from college. My mom welcomed the troop and made room for each in her heart and home. I'm glad I learned the importance of hospitality or I would have missed most recently one of the sweetest Easter weekends I've ever experienced.

As I pondered the Christ of Easter who died with outstretched hands on a cross, then rose from the grave to extend his loving grace, it dawned on me that He did all that in order to one day welcome me home. I have no doubt there will be a porch on my mansion and there will certainly be singing – perfect pitch and harmony – all waiting for me because of God's amazing hospitality.

In Romans 12:9-13, the Apostle Paul talks about such open-arm sentiment that we are to emulate while still here on earth.

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”

Like the folks in Mayberry who positioned themselves available on a front porch, we are fortunate to have quality companionship when we open our lives to others and welcome them in. After an extended winter of repetitive cycles of isolation, it's time to get back out there and invite people to come visit. Make your home a haven. Sit on the porch and talk and laugh and sing. Listen to the silent comfort of togetherness between friends. Most importantly, share your faith and the love of Christ with any who grace your threshold or step onto your porch.

The song of life is so much sweeter when we merge our voices and venture our affections with one another. A bunch of college kids taught me that this Easter.

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.