Psalm 51:10-12

"Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence
And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
And sustain me with a willing spirit."

(Photo by Ken Kniskern at http://www.k2prostudio.com/ Copyright 2011)

His Voice

A Softer Voice has been absolutely “silent” for the past few weeks. Sometimes life requires that we reprioritize, and that’s exactly what I have had to do. 

I’ve had the privilege of spending valuable time with my family as my three siblings and I have visited with and cared for my mother. She will soon be moving from her home into an assisted living facility. The past couple of weeks we have poured over old photographs and a library of wonderful books that originated with my grandfather’s collection, along with other small treasures from the two previous centuries. 

It’s a bittersweet time for our family. I have to confess that there have been opportunities to seek refuge with the Lord, and that time could have led to meditations to share through this blog. But my spare moments have been spent idly – not wanting to read, think, or even pray. It’s no surprise that, when I did attempt to write something, the well was dry. 

Was God silent? Had he also “reprioritized?” I worked my way through this speechless time with the following: 

    His Voice

    When You are silent, I cannot move 

    I long to hear your voice. 

    Whether to bless or to reprove 

    I surrender to your choice. 

    There are no words unless You speak

    Your silence lingers on

    As restless whispers fill the air

    After day is done. 

    Your Word is life and never sleeps 

    Your Spirit -- abiding near 

    Waits for me to turn my face 

    To Yours so I can hear 

    Your Word, the Light, continues to shine 

    Its glow illumines the way 

    God of wisdom, hope and love 

    Lord, speak to me each day. 

                             Nancy K. Sullivan 

                             March 31, 2011

From The Tip Of My Tongue

I Corinthians 13:1
“If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love,
I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” (NISB)

The written word that comes from within
Speaks ever so softly to souls of the men
Who read and consider, then receive what is said
Into their own lives and, like sheep, they are led.

The warning is sounded as pen becomes tongue
That words not become noise like cymbals when rung
Clanging empty speeches and selfish desires
To those who seek truth that calms and inspires.

A spirit that is cold will reap much the same
From seeds that are planted with hopes of acclaim
Rootless, idle promises sent soaring like dreams
That will surely and quickly fall apart at the seams.

The continuing thread of each word that I write
Must be woven with His love for faith to become sight
And seek only to share what His Word reveals
As, through His Spirit, He speaks and He heals.

May I never forget that this mission of mine
Is a gift of the Father and I must align
My will with His as I write and as I live
May His love be the only hope that I give.

Nancy K. Sullivan
12-20-2010

(Photo by Ken Kniskern at K2ProStudio.com Copyright 2010)

Psalm 90:1

“Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations.”

This morning was one of those times when my Bible seemed to fall to a certain verse, Psalm 90:1. I was reminded yesterday that I am officially in “The Sandwich Generation.”

Within a few hours of the birth of our third (and wonderful) grandson, my mother was being transported from a local rehabilitation center to a skilled care facility to continue recovery from some recent strokes. The emotions from both events run very deep.

Our family is blessed to have been raised with a legacy of faith that has spanned some of those generations. We benefit from that faith, especially now. We are charged to continue this heritage by letting God’s strength manifest itself in our weakness, His peace through our fears, and His assurance through so much uncertainty. And absolute praise for His gift of life.

God’s timing is perfect. Our grandson is mother’s seventeenth great-grandson. This little one, nestled in securely with his mother, has no idea of the healing distraction he offers this week. The newest member of the youngest generation is ministering to the last member of his great-grandmother’s generation. And I am very blessed to be one of the middle ingredients in this precious sandwich.

Words of Praise

“Let my cry come before you, O Lord;
Give me understanding according to Your word.
Let my supplication come before You;
Deliver me according to Your word.
Let my lips utter praise,
For You teach me Your statutes.
Let my tongue sing of Your word,
For all Your commandments are righteousness.”

Psalm 119:169-172

"In everything give thanks..."

One week ago Friday, a day I felt was imminent had arrived. I drove to my 87-year-old mother's home to take her to what should have been a routine doctor's visit. Instead, I found her unable to walk unassisted and offering to take an overnight bag along "just in case."

A call to her doctor resulted in being rerouted to the ER. The initial exam and preliminary lab work failed to offer a diagnosis; however, the MRI would finally tell the story: Mom had suffered two mild strokes, one at some earlier time.

Thankful? For a stroke? Not at all. Thankful for the "lab work of a twenty-year-old." Thankful that Mom's mind is equally young. The strokes affected her balance and her ability to stand.

The following Sunday evening, her doctor noticed her condition had weakened. A second MRI confirmed another "tiny stroke." Another opportunity to be thankful. Mom was already in the hospital so her care was immediate and the addition of a couple of medications appear to have stopped that progression. Her mind and remaining motor skills are still strong.

Today she was transported to Jim Thorpe Rehabilitation center where, we've been told, Mom should regain her balance and strength enough to manage a walker. She has beaten the best guesses for recovery from serious illness before and, barring any more complications, will probably do so again.

Just a few more words of gratitude for a wonderful husband, two sisters, a brother and their spouses. Each one willing to do whatever we can to care for and support a sweetheart of a mom. She taught us well. Did I mention how thankful we are for her?

ELECTION DAY PRAYER

Well, Lord,

The big day is finally here. After today, your atmosphere will be free of inflated claims and false promises, at least, for now. Hopefully, the prayers of the faithful candidates who profess You as Lord will rise above the noise of the power hungry and the ego-driven.

Fortunes have been given, spent, and risked on the outcome. Some for self-promotion, some for agendas known only to the contributors and candidates, and even some for people who are seeking Your Face for the healing and restoration of the nation You called us to be.

We humbly ask for Your protection at each polling place. That any and all attempts to electronically or otherwise alter the outcome of our precious right to vote will fail.

Help us to remember the one and only, true Source for our nation. We are at Your mercy, and we pray for that mercy today. Regardless of the winners, You will do Your bidding for this country.

We often sing "God Bless America". Maybe it's time to sing "God, Have Mercy on America." We are not a nation worthy of Your blessings today.

Whatever the outcome of the election, our hope and faith are in You. We ask that You protect our nation and our leaders. We pray for our President, Vice-President and each one in power - all the way down the ladder to local school boards.

It's not easy to pray for those we do not respect, but that's our guideline, not Yours. Forgive us for not being more diligent in obeying Your call to "pray for one another" because "The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much." James 5:16. And, we acknowledge that our "righteousness" is through You, alone.

We pray these things in Your holy and matchless Name. Amen.

II Chronicles 7:14 "...(if) my people who are called by My name, humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin and will heal their land."

A Journey of Faith

Listen to the choir of angels
Singing and surrounding
The resting place of animals
Transformed into a Cradle of Royalty
For the King of Kings

See the Face of Heaven
Plunge beneath the river and
Thrust upward through the clear water
Hear His Heavenly Father’s voice
Reveal His pleasure

Feel the hunger of the Saviour
As He refuses the bread of deception
Feel the swish of angels’ wings
Sweeping Satan out of their way
As they rush to minister to their Jesus

Observe the celebration
As two lives become one
And Jesus respects His mother’s wishes
Waterpots filled with water
Astonish guests with His first miracle.

Watch a miracle unfold
Inside a boy’s woven basket
Count the hungry souls
Fed to satisfaction
Then count the leftovers

Face the wind and the tempest
As the vessel heaves to and fro
Fear sweeps over the sailors
And they rush to their Protector
Who speaks “Peace” and the waves obey

Look into the eyes of the betrayer
As he drinks the wine, eats the bread
Picture the broken body
And spilled blood
Of Jesus.

Listen as Jesus prays in a garden,
“Not My will but Thine”
And drops of blood fall at His feet
While His best friends
Sleep on

Follow Simon of Cyrene
As he carries the tree of death
Up the mountain of Golgotha
And the sound of hammer upon nail
Echoes throughout the land

See His blood streaming down the cross
As hearts of stone shout and spit
At the one and only Son of God
The Father turns His face
The sin of mankind melts away

Stretch to see the faces of those
Whose steps thunder towards
The empty tomb - He is risen!
Look over their shoulders as they stare
In unbelief.

Look up!
The blare of Gabriel’s trumpet calling
The ransomed home.
And, finally, the New Jerusalem
Gleaming and descending from the sky
Nancy K. Sullivan
October, 2010

The Journey of Faith is an amazing life-changing trip.

Check the link "I Want To Know Jesus" for travel arrangements.

Words of Praise

"The earth is the Lord's, and all it contains,
The world, and those who dwell in it,
For He has founded it upon the seas,
And established it upon the rivers."
Psalm 24:1,2

An Awareness of God

This poem was born in a quiet encounter with

God and an amazing sense of His Presence and

the way He reaches out to His Children.

An Awareness of God

An awareness of God
I'm beginning to see
The depth of His love
That reaches to me.

Though I am unworthy
Of His mercy and grace,
He looks upon me
As I seek His face.

He speaks softly to me
Then, to Him, I respond
And I know He is seeking
An everlasting bond.

The Creator of heaven
Of earth and of sea
Wants to be my Father
And spend time with me.

Nancy K. Sullivan
1989

Words of Praise

A Joyful Heart and a Broken Spirit

"A joyful heart makes a cheerful face...

James sat quietly in his rocking chair, cherishing the cooler morning. The peaceful tapping of the raindrops persuaded his eyes to close and his face to relax. The book he was reading lay silently on his lap as he followed his thoughts to earlier days of sunshine and laughter. He smiled.

In the quietness of his room, James loved spending time with his memories. His sweet Opal had been gone for years, but her memory never left. The rhythm of his creaky rocker added to the rain’s gentle rhythm and set the pace for the snapshots as they passed in single file across his eyelids. His smile sunk deeper.

The rain continued and protected the serenity of the moment for James. He could read another day. His walk through the neighborhood could wait for the sunshine to return. For now, he was transformed back to a house filled with his Opal and their eight children. He would just hang out with them for a spell.

******

Downstairs James’ granddaughter, Addie, sat quietly on the worn cushion of the window seat and watched rain drops slide down the streaked panes. With hands locked around the outside of her bent knees, she dug her heels into the cushion’s edge to secure their position. Her half-eaten lunch rested on the window sill.

The watery trails on the windows mirrored the tears that fell down the backs of her eyes. Addie had long since refused to share her grief publicly. Another long, dreary day. Too quiet. Too empty.

The silent phone sat stubbornly on the corner table. No amount of coaxing would cause it to ring.

Music wouldn’t help. Listening to others’ joy just magnified her sorrow. And she didn’t need to shoulder the loneliness that wailed from songs born deep within the hearts of those who shared her dark, dank world. She had written enough of those.

The tick, tick, tick of the mantle clock seemed to slow with each minute that passed. Would this dreary day ever end? Probably. But it would be followed by another day just like this one. A few hours’ sleep would be her only reprieve.

She released her hands from around her knees and her numb feet fell to the floor. She slowly rolled up and stood, careful to let the feeling return to her tingling legs before trudging to the door.

Once outside, she stepped from beneath the striped awning and lifted her face to catch the quickening drops. Maybe they would wash away the despair. But the heavy clouds just added to the weight of her aching heart.

...but when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.” Proverbs 15:13 (Holman)

Learning to Live

Learning to live a life that is free
Is learning to pray and wait patiently
Learning to live a life full of hope
Is yielding to God when we cannot cope
Learning to live a life that is strong
Is trusting while healing – when days seem so long.
Learning to live a life we can’t see
Is reaching our hand through eternity . . .

To the God who knows our needs and our cares
And lovingly, thoughtfully answers our prayers
To the God who is waiting for us to release
The things that deny us our comfort and peace.
To the God who created and made us His own
Who reaches to heal us from His mighty throne.

A Heavenly Voice

The sight of the cell phone sitting silently on the small night stand brought tears to my eyes. That tiny phone was a constant companion to Mom over the past several months. The lengths of her visits were always determined by her measure of strength for that day, but even the short, “Hello’s” were a bright spot in her small world. Mom’s cheery “How wonderful to hear from you!” surely added equal amounts of sunshine to the caller’s day.

Long days and nights of pain that became increasingly difficult to manage were over. The peace that filled her room when Mom quietly slipped into Heaven was now just a strange quietness and felt too empty for words. How I longed for just one more, “love you” to end our day.

Mom had been my confidant. She was such a good listener and had acquired so much wisdom for someone whose world was encompassed in just a tiny speck on the globe. Her brown eyes held soft responses to my news of the day – whether happy or discouraging. When Mom spoke, her words were well thought out and delivered gently, and her hands held mine with a strength that had developed through many years of hard work.

I forced myself to scan Mom’s room for the medical equipment that needed to be returned. The clothing ministry would surely welcome the sharp ensembles she enjoyed wearing before her waning health required a complete wardrobe change to soft gowns and slippers.

I made a mental note to pick up an appropriate box to hold the countless cards and well wishes. Mom re-read them often. It was then that I noticed a plain white envelope with my name in Mom’s handwriting. A soft sob stuck in my throat and my hand shook as I reached for what must have been her final word to me. Was it a personal note? Did it hold instructions that had not been included in finalizing her personal affairs?

Carefully, I slipped my finger under the flap of the envelope and unfolded the paper inside.

“My Dear Marcie,” it began. “I’m sorry I left you with so many details and loose ends, but I have only one more request beyond what we have already covered.

“You know that my cell phone has been one of my best friends these past few months. Just the sound of a friend’s voice or of one of my grandchildren’s has brought so much joy.

“I’ve spend many hours wondering how I could leave something special behind that would somehow brighten the days of my loved ones long after I’m gone, and when the idea came to me, I could have jumped right out of this hospital bed!”

When I had finished reading her letter and cried once again at her final request, I completed the assignment. By the next morning, Mom’s wishes had been realized. The note she left behind came straight from her heart:

“To my amazing family and friends. Thank you so much for filling my days with words of love and encouragement. Your calls made my days sweeter than I can express. A terrific invention, the cell phone. Who knew a device so small could hold hearts to big?

“Very soon we will have face-to-face conversations as you join me in the presence of our Heavenly Father. Until that time comes, my last wish is to return the kindness of your phone calls with a message of my own. My cell phone number will be available, along with my recorded message. At the end of that message, and ‘at the beep’ (smile), leave a good word for me. True, it will be a one-way conversation, but a response to an invitation given in love and gratitude for your faithfulness in my greatest time of need. God Bless.”

I slowly dialed the familiar number, then listened to Mom’s heavenly voice: “How wonderful to hear from you! How was your day? Remember, I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

Do you long for assurance that you, too, will see loved ones in Heaven?
Check the Sidebar for the Link, "I Want To Know Jesus."

From a Gold Ring to a Scarlet Cord

He was accustomed to seeing men come and go from his daughter’s home during the night. These two looked different. They were not shuffling and stumbling up the stairs like so many of her late-night callers. They were moving more like cats, darting in and out of the shadows and watching over their shoulders. Even their clothing seemed unfamiliar. He quietly stepped outside to get a closer look at the men near his daughter’s back door.

The people behind the massive walls of the city were indifferent in their immoral culture. But the old man had never been able to accept that his daughter was a major attraction to residents and visitors alike. She had been such a beautiful young girl with eyes that sparkled at the sound of his voice and a spirit that saw each morning as a new adventure waiting to unfold.

The decline of morals in their secluded community changed all of them. Rahab’s beauty was her downfall. She had been drawn in to a world of depravity and accepted her “status” in the the most public part of town. A father who had once dreamed of grandchildren could only watch his little girl become hardened and aged beyond her years.

“A beautiful woman who rejects good sense is like a gold ring in a pig’s snout.” Proverbs 11:22 (Holman)

Sudden activity in the streets drew him back to the present. The King’s messengers headed straight for Rahab’s house. He inched closer and craned his ear to the voices. “Spies? They must be Israelites!” The hearts of the Jericho residents melted inside their chests at the news of the God of Israel and how He performed indescribable miracles at the Red Sea and dealt with the two kings of the Amorites.

And now the king’s messengers were at his daughter’s house demanding that she turn the intruders over. But why did they insist on searching her house? Then he remembered the two suspicious callers. His heart sank. “What was Rahab thinking when she let those men in?”

He heaved a sigh of relief when the messengers rushed away from her house and toward the King’s palace. Moments later Rahab was at his door. “Papa, let me in quick,” she whispered.

“The Israelites are coming to destroy Jericho, and you want me to believe that they are going to spare us, the family of a prostitute? How can you place your faith in something so bizarre? A God you have never seen, never prayed to, never included in your idol worship is going to save you, your father and mother, even your brothers? Our best chance to survive this is to stay inside these walls. Armies have never been able to get through them. This isn’t water we’re talking about, Rahab. It’s solid rock. Not even the God of Israel can knock these walls down!”

Rahab ignored her father’s protests and hurried to explain their rescue: The two men would hide in the hills for three days, and return to Jericho. She had hidden them from the king, and they promised to spare her and her family. They would see the scarlet chord hanging from her window and take them out of the city before they destroyed Jericho and everyone inside the walls. She had their word.

Somehow Rahab knew in her heart that the God of the Israelites would be her God, too. The gods of Jericho were fashioned from gold and silver. Lifeless and powerless. She had heard of the God Who could not be fashioned by anyone’s hand. He demonstrated unbelievable power protecting His beloved Israelites. She wanted to serve that God, regardless of the danger.

“They burned up the city and everything in it…but Joshua spared Rahab the prostitute, her father’s household, and all who belonged to her, because she hid the men Joshua had sent to spy on Jericho, and she lives in Israel to this day.” Joshua 6:24,25 (Holman)

* * * * *

Months later, the old man watched as Rahab embraced her daily chores. He marveled at how young his daughter looked. Her eyes regained their sparkle, and she began each day with expectancy of wonderful things that would come their way. “I wonder if that smile has anything to do with the young man, Salmon, who visits in our home. Maybe, someday, I’ll have those grandchildren after all.” (Matthew 1:5)

Do you long to know the God of the Israelites and His perfect plan of redemption through His Son, Jesus? Check the Sidebar for the link "I Want To Know Jesus."

Faceless Acquaintances

Editors are uniquely introduced to writers through their shared passion for the written word. From the beginning, they enjoy a freeing experience that bypasses the normal first impressions of face-to-face encounters. Very quickly, this new relationship can develop into something very endearing or, in an outcome that may fall short of the writer’s search for validation, self-preserving.

In our micro wave society of the likes of e-mailing and texting, the electronic age has reduced our communication skills to abbreviated words and symbols. But when a writer pours his soul into a piece, whether an essay or a novel, the communication reaches depths that are quickly disappearing from most walks of life.

Instantly, the author shows his vulnerability, yet trust to a complete stranger. In turn, an editor who faced the blue ink himself can show empathy toward the faceless acquaintance. Empathy that may not be found in any other encounter the writer has experienced.

This new relationship in many cases is a paradox: Deep, but short-lived. The results of this encounter can last a lifetime.

There is another unique relationship that is introduced through the written Word, a Word that also leads to a freeing experience that bypasses superficial encounters and focuses on the heart and soul. One searching for validation from the Editor of this Word will find unconditional love.

His ancient words can neither be taken lightly nor rushed through on a high-speed keyboard and are eternal. They are convicting, encouraging, and demanding of our time and respect. The very soul of the original Author is the standard. Each submission to this Author/Editor is measured by, and held accountable to, His Truth. Vulnerability is handled with agape love and blessed assurance.

This two-way communication and relationship is possible only through the shed blood of the Author and Editor’s Son, Jesus Christ. And, unlike the relationship previously mentioned, is eternal rather than short-lived.

In the soon and coming presence of this Acquaintance, we will surely experience unmeasured joy at our Face-to-face encounter with the Author and Finisher of our faith.

Do you want to see Jesus "Face-to-Face?" Check the Sidebar for the Link, "I Want To Know Jesus."