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

 

 

Greatest Love of All: Forgiveness

 

Mark 11:25 “And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.”

1 John 1:9  “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Matthew 6:15 “But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

Forgiveness.

Dylann Storm Roof, age 21, walked into a bible study group at a church in Charleston, South Carolina, sat down, listened to Jesus’ name being called up in holy reverence, and then pulled out a gun, and shot nine attendees.

Forgiveness. It’s the hardest thing most of us will ever face.

I sat and listened to the news report. My chest ached and tears flowed. How could this happen? What evil possessed this young man? How could he have sat there and heard the precious words of our Lord and Savior, look out over those beautiful, God-loving faces, and then commit such a dastardly deed?

It is beyond comprehension.

But God has used this evil to His glory. Can this really be possible? Oh yes!

Jesus set the example on the cross when he hurled his weakened voice to heaven, proclaiming, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)

Now we see forgiveness expressed after this atrocious crime.

Marcus Stanley posted on Dylann’s facebook page, “I don’t know you . . . I don’t look at you with the eyes of hatred or judge you by your appearance or race, but I look at you as a human being that made a horrible decision to take the lives of 9 living and breathing people. . . Give your heart to Jesus and confess your sins with the heart of forgiveness. He is the only one that can save your soul and forgive you for the terrible act you have done. I love you Dylann, even in the midst of the darkness and pain you’ve caused, but more importantly because HE loves you. . .”

Marcus began the example of Christ-like forgiveness. He did not know Dylann. He did not know the 9 children of God who lost their lives. But Marcus knew Jesus. He knew what it meant to forgive. And he paved the way.

Standing in a courtroom, the relatives of the Charleston church shooting victims gave emotional statements. Through tears and with broken hearts, they told Dylann that they forgave him for taking the lives of their loved ones.

“Although my grandfather and the other victims died at the hands of hate, this is proof . . . everyone’s plea for your soul is proof they lived in love and their legacies will live in love,” the grandson of 74-year-old Daniel Simmons said. “So hate won't win.”

Charleston Mayor Joseph P. Riley, Jr. told Associated Press, “A hateful person came to this community with some crazy idea he’d be able to divide, but all he did was unite us and make us love each other even more.”

Forgiveness. It’s hard, but we know from Scripture that forgiveness begins the healing of hearts. It’s the power and strength that resides within us—The Power of the Almighty!

“Forgive them for they know not what they do.”

We’ve been given a powerful lesson in forgiveness.

Is there someone you need to forgive? Is there someone who is harboring unforgiveness that you know? Reflect on this post. What would Jesus do?

God bless you,

Angela

How often do you blog?

 

Someone asked me if I would post every day. I asked them if they would read it every day. They said no. That was the best thing news I’ve heard in a long time. Why do I want to wrestle with words and hope to find some meaning for the reader? That’s not joyful for anyone.

I want you to know that I’ve prayed over this blog to use as part of my ministry to talk about issues that are placed on my heart. The biggest thing I’ve noted when I talk to people is their lack of true security. Everything is about image, feelings, and self-doubt. People are lonely. Children are lacking hands-on attention.

To be sure, I will write about these things and more. I am not one dimensional. I love to read, so I’ll share it. Cooking is a passion. Don’t worry I’ll post that, too. Sometimes I get a funny thing on my brain, and I will throw it out there because surely someone besides me needs it! Don’t get complacent. I’m all over the board!!!

Just know when I write, I want it to be real and relevant. If it’s not then I’m rambling, and at that point we all need to get a life!

Blessings! Have a wonderful week!!!

What if God . . .

What if God couldn't take the time to bless us today because we couldn't take the time to thank Him yesterday?

What if God decided to stop leading us tomorrow because we didn't follow Him today?

What if we never saw another flower bloom because we grumbled when God sent the rain?

What if God didn't walk with us today because we failed to recognize it as His day?

What if God took away the Bible tomorrow because we would not read it?

What if God took away His message because we failed to listen to the messenger?

What if God didn't send His only begotten son because He wanted us to be prepared to pay the price for sin?

What if the door of the church was closed because we did not open the door of our heart?

What if God would not hear us today because we would not listen to Him?

What if God answered our prayers the way we answer His call to service?

What if God met our needs the way we give Him our lives?

What if?

What ifs: Defeat or Empowerment

 

Most of my life what ifs have seized me with an awareness of potential snares, often causing me to stumble down the slippery slope of self-doubt, insecurity, or recrimination. By the time I finished wringing out every possible scenario, I was a fractured mess. Once you travel down this path, it is never ending, branching off into a mind field of detonated thought bombs.

            What if I had been bolder?

            What if I had stood up to her/him?

            What if I hadn’t been so insecure?
            What if I had been more truthful?

These are all barren fields. I can promise you I’ve visited each of them. Why? Because I know the trail so well it has become a pattern. Who am I listening to? Who seeks to keep me wrapped up in my own frustration and remorse?

1Peter 5:8 says, “Be serious! Be alert! Your adversary the Devil is prowling around like a roaring lion, looking for anyone he can devour.

Satan wants me to loose my focus on God. Satan desires to barricade hope. Every time what ifs grip me, dragging me into murky waters, I allow Satan to gain stronger footholds into my life.

Digging through Scripture one day, it dawned on me—— what ifs can also be an awareness of possibilities and potential. Did you hear that? Two words that dredged up defeat can also offer empowerment.

Putting the awe and wonder of God into what ifs creates a new panoramic diversion announcing, “All things are possible with God”. In this new mindset, our God-given creativity begins to explode into positive options. I see clearly that apart from God, I can do nothing but mess things up.

The hardest parts of what ifs is breaking our conditioning. We have to purpose ourselves to turn defeat into optimism. Who needs a zip line to failure? Remember God’s goodness in the past. “The Lord was on our side.” Remember every trial, concern or doubt has an ending. “The snare is broken.” Remember “our help is in the name of the Lord.”

“The lines of purpose in your lives never grow slack, tightly tied as they are to your future in heaven, kept taut by hope.” Colossians 1:5-15 MSG, paraphrased

I’m going to work on those what ifs. They’ve been negative for so long, but I think I have an example to share in the next post. It's the last what if post. It's probably the most profound.

What is your biggest what if? If it is negative, how can you turn it into something positive?

God bless you!

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!

The Least, the Lost, and the Last

 

God has offered me many opportunities in my life. Some I have embraced and others I have felt were a heart-burden. Having been brought up in a neighborhood on the wrong side of the tracks where drinking and abuse were common, I dreamed of fleeing. Running as far away as I could.

We never know what God has in store for us. We never know if the one thing we fight against will be the one thing He’ll draw us back to. But God often does, and I’ve seen it over and over again in my lifetime.

It’s funny how stepping away from anger, abuse, and disorderly conduct and stepping into another life where people value education, ethics, morals can be life changing. I’m proof positive. So when God nudged me to work with the least, the lost, and the last I went, dragging my feet, but I went.

In the process of helping others heal, I healed. The more I squatted down to assist someone too low to rise up or a child too defeated to smile or a woman too hurt to see love . . . I saw Jesus by my side, again and again. I learned to bury my deep hurts. I sought safety under the shadow of the Almighty’s wings. My whole outlook began to change. I had to be on the highway of the hurt—to offer a cup of cold water in the blistering heat of dissatisfaction, betrayal, and loss. And God provided.

A fellow writer asked me if one of the characters in my latest book was me.

I’m still pondering the answer.

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.” Psalm 18: 16-19

All around us are people who desperately need someone who cares. Someone who will show them a different way of life . . . a little hope. Be observant. Step out of your comfort zone. Don’t miss an opportunity to change someone’s life.

Please don’t stand in the whatifs wondering why you didn’t help. I never thought that would happen to me. Then it did. With all my training I failed, and the aftermath has been sorrow.

God be with you always!