Bayleaf Ladies!

 

Proverbs 3:1-2 My son, do not forget my teaching,

but let your heart keep my commandments,

for length of days and years of life

and peace they will add to you.

 Over the past year, I have had the awesome opportunity to be in Bible study and fellowship with the women at Bayleaf Plantation, plus a few extra women who drive over to join us. Sometimes we are twenty strong, and other times there are only five of us who gather to hear God’s Word and message. Over the past year, two of our members have died, and we had to come together to say farewell to good friends who had gone home to be with Jesus.

Today we are celebrating the last day on our study “Jesus: From the Cradle to the Cross”. We’ve been tackling Jesus’ life for nine months. The exploration has led us into moments of sheer joy and intense sorrow. Each of us has grown in our knowledge of our Lord and Savior.

We’ve seen the importance of gathering together to examine God’s Word. Every book, chapter, and verse we studied offered us a course in problem solving and speculation. Jesus asked lots of questions. He told stories and spun them around real-life circumstances. There were times when we had to just sit and ponder some of His teachings. I think Jesus did it on purpose to get us to settle down, stop, and consider. He drove the “ifs” into our brain. And He managed to woo us with words of love and encouragement.

Over the course of our study, we had lots of questions. Some had answers. Others were hard questions that didn’t seem to have answers at all. Then there were questions we had to leave alone because we realized God’s wisdom needed to pour over us before we could understand. A lot of questions seem to ask us to wait or be still. Waiting is like silence. It’s hard. We also talked about how it seemed God never answered our questions or our prayers. But in the process of studying, we discovered He always answered our prayers, but maybe not like we wanted or thought. That brought up more questions. I’m sure Jesus smiles at us a lot.

God’s Word is powerful. If you are not in a Bible study group, please search one out. It is powerful to worship, praise, and study with believers.

Here’s a picture of my Bayleaf Ladies!!! Aren’t they precious?

May God bless you abundantly through His Word,

Angela

 

 

Questions Are Stabbing Heartaches

 

What ifs can be the point of an arrow, slicing through skin and marrow.

Last April my husband and I decided to travel from Eastern North Carolina to San Ramon, California via the southern route. Our destination was to visit our daughter and her family. Along the route we had friends to visit, vistas to explore and foods to tantalize our taste buds. We had few plans, less agendas, no maps (don’t count GPS), a book for pet hotels, lots of snacks, water, and, of course, our Boston terrier, Miss Lillie.

We set a routine. Get up, do our Bible Study, have coffee, walk Miss Lillie and be out the hotel/motel by 9:00am. Every day, no later than 4:00pm, we would stop, walk Miss Lillie, and head somewhere to eat. I would often spend the last few minutes before we stopped to search for local diners with specialty foods.

One afternoon, we stopped at a rest stop near Henrietta, Oklahoma. It was a beautiful area. We all set out on a walk to stretch our legs and encourage Miss. Lillie to relieve herself. In the distance, I heard a screech. As we continued walking, the screech became a tormenting sound, horrifying. My husband and I turned round and round looking upward, thinking it was a hawk attacking some innocent or ailing animal. The skies were empty. The sound erupted again, piercing and fearful.

We immediately zeroed in on the center of the sound. Below us in the parking lot were two people standing next to a motorcycle. A feeling of wrong permeated the area. The high pitched cries continued as we moved closer. The only other time we had ever heard this kind of penetrating sound was when we attended a hawk exhibition at The Greenbriar in West Virginia. Hawks soared releasing attack cries as they lunged at smaller birds.

Fear escaladed. We finally made out the two figures as a man and young girl. The man was tall, dressed in jeans, a long sleeve white shirt, and had a red-white-and-blue bandanna tied across his head. The girl was slight. Her hair was in a fountain of corkscrews, flying around her face each time she moved. The man grabbed and shook her. When she threw her head back, the deafening noise filled the wind, hitting us painfully in the face.

“It’s coming from that child.” Words flew from me in anguish. “What can we do?”

Before Dallas could respond, the man grabbed the girl, slamming his hand over her face and screaming words we could not understand, but knew were not English. She responded by dropping to the ground, trying to fold herself into a ball as he plummeted her back, legs, arms—anything he could find to hit.

Dallas, Miss Lillie and I rushed down to the parking lot, edging far enough from the scene not to be noticed. That’s when we spied another observer, a Chinese man. Dallas told me to stay put, and he ran towards a utility truck that had just pulled up into the area. My eyes went between watching him run from one person to another in the rest area for help, and the blatant abuse of the child in front of me.

Even now I cannot quell my fear or tears. The images are too real and frightening.

For two years I had been reading about human trafficking. I had a flyer on my desk to check into a new chapter opening near my home when I returned. How could I be standing here watching? Why were my feet immobile? What if I didn’t respond? What if I was the last one to see this child alive?

In my heart, I knew what was happening. I could not believe it. I thought the world and everything in it had crashed into a million ugly pieces. I cannot tell you the horror I saw in that child’s bruised face or his guttural language that left no need for interpretation. The threat was clear and menacing.

Wide-eyed I searched for my husband. Silent screams hung in my throat. Bitter gall rose in open defiance. Then I heard the motorcycle roar. Swinging around, I saw the man pick up the girl, slam a helmet on her head, thrust her onto the motorcycle, and tie her hands to the seat back. She struggled with every ounce of her being. He paid no attention as she kicked at him. He just took off. He left. No one was running after him. No siren was blaring. Only the Chinese man and I stood with frozen looks of horror on our faces.

No one did a thing.

What if I had run forward? What if I had screamed? What if? What if? What if?

I have nightmares. I see young girls and boys in the hands of perpetrators being taken from their homes. People stare. Then they walk away. Uncaring.

My heart died a little that day. And every day since, I see her face, and I go through the same horror. Asking myself the same heart wrenching questions, over and over again.

In November, seven months after that incident, I went to the Women of Faith Conference in Charlotte, North Carolina. One of the speakers was Christine Caine. Her talk? Human Trafficking.

Folks, it’s real. It’s a threat to everyone in big cities and small towns.

Defeat? NO!

Empowerment? Yes. God shared one of his greatest heartbreaks with me. I pray for that child daily. I pray for anyone taken hostage. I’m on the lookout. I will never stand frozen in horror again. Evil is not a figment of my imagination. It is real. I saw it. I have the nightmares to prove it. I am on a quest to learn all I can to be prepared to respond in the future.

In my book, Cries of Innocence, there is a scene similar to the one I witnessed. The ones taken into hostage are called Desmios, the captive ones.

What do you know about human trafficking?

Has it touched your life yet?

Check out Christine Caine’s website and A21.

http://www.christinecaine.com/content/about/gjegfk

Blessings!

Even the Strongest Believers Question at Times

 

Hard questions.

“My daughter just blurted out that she was questioning if God really exists.”

“My son just told me that he was a nonbeliever.”

“My teacher said that God wasn’t real.”

When someone presents these kind of questions to you, how do you respond? Do you have scripture on the tip of your tongue? Do you react by refuting the idea? Do you sit in silence not knowing what to say?

Elisabeth Elliot said, “Faith does not eliminate questions. But faith knows where to take them.”

Elisabeth implies, or so I assume, that we know where to find answers to life’s questions. We go directly to the source, God’s Word. And that’s certainly valid. However, if you’re not a student of scripture or familiar with the varying themes, this answer might seem daunting.

As Christ followers, we want to be able to validate the One whom we love. But how?

“Christ has no body on Earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion for the world is to look out. Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good, and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now.” (St. Teresa of Avila)

Of all the things we could do or say, I believe our lives speak volumes about where our faith lies and who the cornerstone of our faith is. We do this by living intentionally for Christ and trying to be like Him.

 “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to My Father.” (John 14:12)

Now, let me clarify something. We are not saved by our works, but we are saved for works. Our works are a manifestation of our love for Jesus. We do because we love Him. It’s as natural a response as drinking the water God provides to quench our thirst.

“For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto but to minister and to give life a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45) Throughout the scripture, Jesus showed us example after example on how to live. The word “follow” and “serve” become a way of life.

Okay, I apologize. In the middle of writing this post, my fifteen-year-old granddaughter texted me, asking me to listen to Eric Church’s song, “Like Jesus Does”. Maybe this is the very example Jesus wanted me to use for this post. There’s no doubt that people in our culture are starving for affection and validation. The very thing Jesus did so well is the very thing that will lead more people to believe in Him. Pouring out my love on others to show the passion in my heart for the Father might be the most powerful way to demonstrate that our God lives! God’s love is our template. The fruit of the Spirit is our behavior modifiers.

This song is a little crude, but the world is crude, unloving and questioning. Love them like Jesus does. He’d probably be at dinner with this man. You know that’s true!

"Like Jesus Does" by Eric Church

I'm a long-gone Waylon song on vinyl,

I'm a back row sinner at a tent revival,
But she believes in me like she believes her Bible,
And loves me like Jesus does.

 

I'm a lead foot leaning on a souped-up Chevy,

I'm a good old boy, drinking whiskey and rye on the levee,
But she carries me when my sins make me heavy,
And loves me like Jesus does.

 

All the crazy in my dreams,

Both my broken wings,
Every single piece of everything I am,
Yeah, she knows the man I ain't,
She forgives me when I can't,
The devil, man, no, he don't stand a chance,
'Cause she loves me like Jesus does.

 I always thought she'd give up on me one day,

Wash her hands of me, leave me staring down some runway,
But I thank God each night, and twice on Sunday,
That she loves me like Jesus does.

 

Yes, she knows the man I ain't,

She forgives me when I can't,
That devil, man, he don't stand a chance
She loves me like Jesus does.