Georgetownrose

from glory to glory…

Archive for the month “November, 2014”

Thanksgiving Blessings!

Thanksgiving Blessings art2Remember and thank God for the Puritan pilgrims who brought the Word of God to our shores. They sacrificed their comforts, their friendships, and their livelihoods to protest the deception and corruption of the Word of God in their homelands. They suffered ridicule, betrayal, poverty, illness, and great hardships to live in the Truth of God’s Word, and to pass it on to their children and to the inhabitants of this strange land…

And they were washed up on these rocky and inhospitable shores carrying the Truth of God’s Word with them not only for themselves but also for the generations which were to spring forth from their own lives… They carried the Truth because others for centuries before them carried it, lived it, and died for it… They did all this because the Word of God is the Truth.

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth…And what more shall I say? For the time would fail me to tell of Gideon and Barak and Samson and Jephthah, also of David and Samuel and the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again. Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us.

–Hebrews 11.13,32-40

Being with family at a table brimming with food is a blessing, to be sure; and I do thank God for the abundant mercies poured out on us, when I know others are enduring unspeakable hardships–many without the hope of Messiah to sustain and guide through the waters of affliction…

I am so thankful to God for His grace to pass the Truth on to me through the courage and faith of the saints. I have all of the Older Covenant saintsThe Truth and the New Covenant saints to thank for their record of the Truth. I have their perseverance recorded on the pages of history to encourage my heart in times like these…

This is my feasting and my chief delight on this national day of Thanksgiving…

Jesus is Lord!

Feeling, thinking, thanking God–and not writing…

The Print Shop 3.5 Deluxe

Weeks have passed and my head is full of so many thoughts. It’s like mail–some of it is junk, too–that piles up unopened, unsorted, unanswered, left on a compost heap piling higher and beginning to smolder…

I look at the “head mail” and, just like looking at the stack of postal mail which collects and torments from my desk, I flinch and in my inertia, I whimper at it unable to lay hold of the faculty to sort the thoughts to be of any use to me or anyone else… My brain cells are stuck on feeling and thinking, but my brain-to-expression ability is unplugged for the moment…

Have I prayed? Yes. Indeed, I have, and I continue my conversations with the Lord. Praying is the air I breathe; my Lifeline…

Am I listening for God’s answer on this issue? Yes. Indeed, I am. And in the quietness I am comforted with the assurance that it’s okay to have a season of thought and feeling, inexpressible to anyone but God… After all, I am not at the center of this blog; it’s not all about me, me, me. It’s about Jesus in this life given to me. Apparently, this is going to be one of those aspects of the life God has given me to discover how great He is–how great His EXPRESSION is, when words fail me…So, dear blogging friends, keep writing what God gives you to share. I’m reading. I’m finding words to comment and encourage you while I wait on God to grant me utterance to finish some writing which has been interrupted by life and circumstances and my own limitations…I will keep on reading and encouraging you as God permits each day…

In the meantime, I am giving thanks for all things–including the weaknesses–knowing that His grace is sufficient, and His strength is made perfect in my weakness… and I keep walking with Christ in this wilderness, trusting Him for the words of encouragement, praise, and testimony in due time.

The Rains Had Finally Come: Sven Birkerts on Writing

This post by Cheri Lucas Rowlands is marvelous, and a true encouragement at a time when my own attention is divided and all I have are thoughts which I cannot articulate. This is a “keeper.” The link to Sven Birkerts’ piece, “The unearned gift,” at Aeon changed the way I’m looking at this frantic feeling of not being able to compose and communicate right now. Thank you, God, for these two writers and the unearned blessing they have been to me in this season of multitudes of unutterable thoughts.

The Daily Post

For the writers out there who’ve struggled with writer’s block, or whose wells are currently dry, I invite you to read Sven Birkerts’ Aeon essay on how it feels when the tide comes back in. He captures this moment, while sitting on a bench by a lake in Central Park in New York City:

All of a sudden, I found myself wanting to write sentences again and, when I did, it felt to me like the rains had finally come, stirring up life in the dry land. I don’t know if I even shifted in my place, but whatever it was has since brought something back that had gone missing. The time hasn’t been that long, really, but by what clock? What decides long? The clock of days or the clock of the inside life? How long can a person feel unconnected and not feel that it’s too long? Writing…

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Mud and Mercies

Between October 20 and November 10, I watched daily while the foundation around our home was systematically and aggressively excavated. Water was the offender; seeping, standing water was soaking our foundation, making rooms feel damp, smelling of mildew, and even creeping up the walls to interfere with electrical and phone outlets. A view from my house on October 24, we were surrounded by walls of red clay and an open trench…

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We discovered that our condo unit was built directly on top of a natural water spring, hemmed in by hard, compacted red clay all around our foundation. Surprise, surprise! Amazingly and miraculously, I would say, we never had any flooding incidents, were never subjected to sloshing about in our bedroom slippers in ankle deep water after copious rains or deep winter snow melt. That has to be God’s angels watching over us, because others have suffered the throes of the flows of our water table.

What it looked like before…

azaleas on northern corner patio rose patch2 roses on the west

While we were waiting on the next phase of waterproofing and drain installations, it wasn’t all bad. Even though the prospect of the onslaught of excavation hovered like a pendulum over my head, I managed to rescue my garden plants before the big dig commenced. With some heroic help of friends, my roses and ferns were relocated from the once happy little gardens to be safely bedded down in containers on my patio. They seemed to appreciate their new homes, and began putting forth new leaf.  The miniature rose even gave me a lovely little bloom before the cold weather descended…The patio was the safe place… The little spot of consolation while all was unearthed around us…

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The contractor found our pandora’s box to be an unexpected challenge, but they were here to conquer and subdue. They worked hard and carefully. For all of my feeling stuck in the mud, I was rather enthralled to see their problem solving efforts and watch the process unfold. Yes, I did succumb to the fascination of watching machinery move earth around from one place to another… And then, of course, there were the interesting conversations I had with them as I’d open my window and peek out and have a chat while they wrestled with the intrepid clay and what the foreman said was one of the hardest restoration jobs of this type. And there were the rainy days, too, when the pumps had to be employed to pump water from the trenches…

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All the heavy and difficult labors gave way to the workers’ resilience and determination. Weeks of labor ensued, hauling away clay and hauling in large gravel and porous fill dirt, sealing the foundation walls and fortifying them with an outer coat. Drains were strategically mapped and laid and secured. New concrete was poured to grade a spot which was a water trap. The land was restored to something resembling suburban civilization just before the coldest weather descended…ground regraded, seed sown, protective layer of straw…bedded down to wait for spring landscaping… all is well…

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I miss the chats with workers…nice bunch…Thanking God for His mercies in the mud, in ways we could never know He granted them to us… all is well…

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