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Friday, September 28, 2007
 Two summers ago, before our trip to Ghana, I was at our African partner church and a woman I'd never met before approached me. She began asking me, in her broken English, where we were going on our mission trip. I told her the region we would be visiting, and named the villages to which we would be going. Her face lit up! She exclaimed that one of the villages I had named was where her brother and his wife lived. She told me he was a pastor there, building a small church. She asked for my address, and a few days later I received a letter from her telling me her brother's name, and a picture of him standing next to the frame of the church they were building. I had no idea if I would be able to find him, and if I did, what exactly I was to do with this information, but I tucked the letter and picture into my journal and slid it into my backpack before we left.My team worked in two main villages that week, and between the hectic pace, my son's sickness for part of the time, and the sheer volume of work we were trying to accomplish in such a short time, I didn't get to search out the man whose sister I had met weeks earlier. Our last day in the village, I pulled out that letter from my journal and prayed, "Lord, if you mean for me to meet this person, You will need to orchestrate it. I have no idea how to find him." I put the letter back in my journal and left for the day's work. Later that evening when we were back at the small hotel where we were staying, one of my kids came to me and said there was a woman there, looking for my husband. Thinking she was someone we had met earlier in the week, I went to find her, as he had not made it back to the hotel yet. A lovely woman approached me, with her warm Ghanaian smile, clutching an envelope with my husband's name on it, followed by the word, "missionary." That, in itself was enough to make me get tears in my eyes. It turns out, she was the wife of the man in the picture! She didn't know if we were still in the area, but she had walked about six miles from where they live to this small hotel, where she thought we might possibly be staying. She had no idea that this was our last day there! She had apparently gotten our name from her sister-in-law. We sat under the shade of a hut-like structure and had a wonderful visit. She told of her husband's work trying to start a church in a nearby village. She described what God was doing in their lives, the miraculous provisions He had made, and the daunting work that lay ahead in this particular area dominated by tribal religions. She told me of their goal of starting an orphanage in the area, and told me wonderful stories of babies they had already received. It was an amazing time. She wanted to make contact with us in case we would ever be working in their area again and might be able to help or possible partner with them. I was thoroughly blessed by our conversation. But the blessing was about to be greater. Before she left, I asked her if we might pray together. She exclaimed that yes, she would love that. Immediately she stood up, straightened her posture, and looked up. She paused, turned to me, and said in her wonderful accent, "I always eentah Heez cawts weeth praise!" at which time she began singing, loudly, a magificent song of praise in her own language. I praised right along with her, feeling very much like we were now officially, "in His courts!" We then prayed together, very much in the presence of the Heavenly Father. I don't know when I'd ever felt more "before the throne of grace." It was so, so powerful. That moment changed the way I approach my personal prayer time. Like my Ghanaian sister, I always "enter His courts with praise." Now, that doesn't mean that I sing loudly before each prayer (that's a personal favor to anyone who might be near me at the time!) Our church has a separate bulletin each week with the worship lyrics printed, which I keep in the front of my Bible for my own "personal praise" time. Just looking at the lyrics jogs my memory and I can sing, either out loud or to myself as I begin my prayer time. I have my iPod nearby when I have my quiet times each morning, too. This morning, as I was making pancakes for my kids, I was still singing the wonderful strains of "O Worship the King" from "Hymns: Ancient and Modern" (Chris Tomlin and the Passion band.) So often, after I have entered His courts with praise, I feel like I stay there long after I say "Amen." I encourage you to "enter His courts with praise" as you start your prayer times. That can take whatever form you want it to, from lingering in the psalms, to singing out loud. It will transform your time in prayer! "Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name." Psalm 100:4 "Better is one day in Your courts than a thousand elsewhere;" Psalm 84:10 Labels: Cyndi's Articles, praise Leave a comment... 7 Comments Links to this post  Last weekend my daughter and I made peach cobbler together. No not an exciting detail to mention yet it was extraordinary in my life. You see, I serve the King of “Do Over.” Some of you may be aware I worked in the corporate world of finance for 23 years. I began as a teller, I retired three years ago after working in many capacities as commercial lender and manager. Five years ago, while absorbed in my corporate persona, had you told me I would be making peach cobbler, from peaches grown in my back yard, I would have said you were crazy. I told everyone I knew back then I did not have a domestic bone in my body. --Ask my mother, she can attest to this statement. Every time I made this pompus remark my Great King looked down upon my life. He knew I needed a “do over.” Boy, did I ever get one. (It’s all good!) I went from Nine West to Payless, from designer suits to Wal-Mart sweats. My power lunches morphed into a McDonald’s break after school with my tuckered out little girl. I left the fast-paced world of finance and discovered a new pace. I discovered an entirely new life. I am a stay-at-home mom and having the time of my life! God in His infinite wisdom gave me the opportunity to live a different life. He knew I was missing some of the greatest gifts this life offers. He wanted me to experience facets of life on earth I didn't know were possible. I began to take an active part in my daughter’s day and school. I began to write and to read more. I grew tomatoes and canned them all by myself. I learned to cook and I love it. I clean my own house. I am good at it too. I can pick peaches, blanch them and make homemade cobbler from scratch, okay Bisquick, close enough! Last weekend as I sat in the kitchen pealing the skin from the juicy, rip peaches, I looked up and smiled. My heart was overflowing with gratitude and wonder. With peach juice dripping from my elbow and splashing on the floor, I thanked God for His wisdom. I am a new woman. A woman with more than a domestic bone in her body, I have a new heart and a new life. I am humbled to my knees when I meet others whose lives were also changed by a God sized do over. God meets our deepest needs even when we are blind and unable to recognize them ourselves. We serve a brilliant, magnificent, holy, God! Now it’s your turn. My daughter and I invite you to make peach cobbler. The recipe follows. When you are peeling your peaches sometime this week, remember to raise a smile and a prayer of thanks to the God of fantastic do-overs. Peach Cobbler:  1 c. brown sugar 1 tbsp. cinnamon 4 tsp. cornstarch 6 c. sliced fresh peaches 12 c. milk 2 tbsp. sugar 2 c. Bisquick 1. tsp lemon rind Combine brown sugar, cinnamon, and cornstarch in saucepan. Add peaches and toss to coat. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until boiling and thick. Reduce heat and cook 2 minutes longer. Set aside. Combine Bisquick, sugar, lemon rind. Add milk. Stir with fork until moistened. Return peaches to a boil. Pour into 2-quart oblong baking dish. Drop batter of top. Bake at 400 degrees fro 20-25 minutes. Serve with sauce. Lemon Sauce: Mix ½ cup sugar, 2 tablespoons cornstarch, 1 ¼ cup milk in saucepan. Cook, stirring constantly, until it comes to a boil and thickens. Reduce heat and cook 2 minutes longer. Stir in 2 tablespoons butter, t teaspoon lemon rind, 2 tablespoons lemon juice. Serve warm over cobbler. I am a do over. Are you? I would love to hear your story.  Please stop in for a visit at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage. Labels: Lynn's Articles, praise Leave a comment... 11 Comments Links to this post "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness; come before His presence with singing. Know ye that the Lord He is God; it is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are His people, the sheep of His pasture." Psalm 100:1-2 There are many things about my life as a Preacher's wife I consider atypical, however my Sunday morning seat on the 2nd pew, piano-side is about as predictable as it gets. What is unusual, however, is the motley crew of fellow worshipers who surround me. Along with my own children, my area has attracted many other young'uns - mostly boys. This past Sunday, there were thirteen of them. Yes, you read correctly. Thirteen boys on the front two pews. Thank the Lord for Children's Church! There is one boy I particularly enjoy sitting with because of his love for worship. When the song director announces the page number in the hymnal, he immediately hands me a book to find the correct song for him. No one sitting near this fifteen-year-old during the song service can help but feel they are in the presence of angels. The reason? Michael is deaf and mute. Now obviously Michael is unable to form the words to the worship songs, but what he vocalizes instead is a, 'Woo, Woo, Woo' to the vibrations he feels from the speakers. This past Sunday, the congregational hymn was, 'The Star Spangled Banner'. As we neared the end, I thought to myself, "This is the part where we should all jump out of our seats and cheer. After all, we throw our hands in the air at a ballgame..Why not the Baptist Church?" Michael must have sensed what I was thinking because at the end of that song he YELLED, 'Woo, Woo, WOOOOOOO!" That's all it took. I cried. Then I patted him on the back which is my way of letting him know he is special and I love him dearly. He just grinned and said, "Memen". His word for 'Amen'. Amen, praise the Lord, Hallelujah, indeed! As I thought about Michael's joyful noise, Psalm 100 immediately came to mind. I looked up the phrase 'a joyful noise' in my trusty Lexicon and discovered these meanings: "to split the ears with sound, to sound a trumpet, to shout with joy or for joy." And then Michael's worship made more sense than ever. A joyful noise is not a word but a shout! There are times when no words can fully express the joy in our spirit, the depth of our grief, the praise of our graciously redeemed souls. There are occasions when the song of our heart is comprised of only one prolonged syllable, exhaled to the Only One who can translate. Just as the Spirit knows how to pray for us when we can not voice His will, I believe He sings the song to the Father we can not. And what a beautiful song it is. Until that child can say the name Jesus, I believe 'woo hoo' will do.  Please visit my personal blog, The Preacher's Wife. Labels: Lisa's Articles, praise Leave a comment... 7 Comments Links to this post Bologna is the most innovative food there is. It can be used to stuff cheeks at a picnic, win friends and influence people, and promote dance among the canine population. I fondly remember my bologna days during those quirky moments when my mind travels back to my childhood… When he's inclined to do so, my dad plays a mean fiddle. I popped the weasel in “the day” more often than I can count; yet each time, I danced with my sisters like it was the first time the tune tickled the drum of our ears. Lisa was our toy poodle--not to be confused with Preacher’s Wife, who’s clearly not a toy poodle. Although Lisa suffered a traffic accident the day she slam danced with the tire of a moving car, she could dance. Lisa didn't need Fantasia Barino to teach her the “Bobo,” she relied on nothing more than a wiggling slice of bung bologna. After removing the fiddle from it's felt lined case, my dad always made a trip to the kitchen with his bow in tow, before sitting down to play. There he would carefully hook a piece of meat to the end of that bow so Lisa could join in the fun. I know that Lisa danced because she was eager to get that meat in her mouth, but I sometimes wonder if perhaps part of that little dog just wanted to dance with her sisters--I know that I did. Little Lisa was raised by two hand raising, tongue speaking, spirit shaking, Pentecostals--my parents. Little pleased them more than to say, "Praise the Lord!" in front of church friends, only to see our dog hop off of the couch and raise her paws in the air. Lisa was a special little thing who I enjoyed immensely, but was created for a reason, and that reason was to please God. Sure, I know that Lisa was only doing a trick to please her owner when she lifted her paws in the air, but I do marvel about the spiritual aspect of creation that my mind still can’t wrap its way around. Luke 19:40 says, ‘But He answered and said to them, “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out.”’ And my sister, who’s planting her garden, tells her flowers in no uncertain terms, that they were created to please the Lord, and so she’s cheering them on as they bloom. Ok, my family is odd, but you should see her beautiful garden… The Psalmist often wrote about creation praising God. Each time I hear those words, "Let every living, breathing creature praise GOD! Hallelujah!" I'm reminded of Lisa with her arms in the air, and I sense the pleasure she brings to the Lord. I sometimes wonder if perhaps part of that little dog just wanted to dance before the Lord--I know that I do. Just like it was the first time His voice has tickled the drum of my ears.  Labels: Darlene's Articles, praise Leave a comment... 7 Comments Links to this post “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” ~ Hebrews 12:1-2 (ESV – emphasis mine)I guess endurance/perseverance is my motto for this week. Last weekend was so busy with  getting things done around the house that my Sweetheart and I didn’t have time to relax. I was hoping for a little R&R, but we had to catch-up on stuff that didn’t get done during the week. I wanted to be fresh for a very busy week at work—long hours were scheduled since we have year-end-close in April/May.We were all under a lot of pressure in my department. How to do you cope with pressure/stress? As for me I look to Him for strength; I put on my headphones and listen to praise music. Others just walk off the job…I am serious—we had one leave work on Wednesday because the stress was too high (no worries—the person returned on Thursday). That got me thinking about our Lord. What if He would have said ‘No’ to the pressure He was under? He could have just refused to be the sacrifice for all of us. He could have said ‘No’ to the cross. What would have happened to us? I know that I could not save myself. I could never fulfill all the commandments God has set before me. But our Lord said YES to the cross—despite the pain that came with it. His love for us was much greater than the shame He would have to endure… I am glad that He poured hope into my heart when He took my sins and nailed them to the cross. With His strength I can make it through year-end-closing at work or through busy weekends…How about you? Will you travel the road of life with a smile on your face and a song of praise on your lips because of the hope He has given you? I pray you do… “More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” ~ Romans 5:3-5 (ESV)Lord of Heaven and Earth. Thank you for saying YES to the cross. Thank you for enduring the pain and the shame. Lord, help me to travel the road of life with a smile on my face and a song of praise on my lips. In the precious name of Jesus ~ Amen.  Labels: Iris's Articles, praise, thankfulness Leave a comment... 12 Comments Links to this post In college I became a voracious note-taker. I've seen college classrooms today with students furiously clicking away on their laptops during the professor's lecture. But that's not how it was "in my day." In my day, I feverishly wrote, trying to capture what was written on the board before the next board was pulled down in front of the previous one and subsequently filled up as well. (Whew! It makes me tired just thinking about it!) It's a skill that has served me well, even into my adult years. It's almost how I listen now. In church, at seminars, and sometimes even as I listen to podcasts, there I am... scribbling in my notebook. One tactic I learned to employ in some of my science or French classes in college, when the lecture was sometimes given by an international student or teaching assistant from another country, was to write what I thought they said and just make sense of it later. Many times, due to the difference in his or her accent, I would write one thing, and then later figure out it meant something completely different! (Sort of like making a game of Mad Gab out of my study notes!) A few months ago at a women's conference, I found myself copiously taking notes using this particular method as a precious woman from Zambia was speaking quite fast and with a heavy accent. What I heard her repeat several times was, "I will praise Him at odd times." As she repeated it, my brain heard it that way again. So, I wrote it. Just like that. I will praise Him at odd times. I thought to myself, "I suppose it is good to praise God at odd times," wondering where she was going with her point. I later figured out that what she said was, "I will praise Him at ALL times," which makes total sense! But so did what I thought she said. You see, if we praise Him at all times, then inevitably we are going to praise Him at some odd times, too. There are certain moments that just don't seem to call for praise: Being stuck in traffic. Sitting with a sick child. Being bedridden. Receiving devastating news. In the midst of financial uncertainty. Facing a giant disappointment. Letting go of a dream. But, those are precisely the moments when we most need to praise God. Praise ushers us into "His courts" where we can lay all of it at His feet, and helps to put our circumstance into the proper perspective. It doesn't mean that we are to act like we've got the "holy jollies" in the midst of our grief and pain, but we can honestly praise Him through it. In one of my favorite resources, 31 Days of Praise, Ruth Myers says of David and the other psalmists: "They did not deny their feelings or simply ignore them. Nor did they wallow in them until they'd all but drowned. And it doesn't seem that they postponed their praise until they had worked through their emotions and felt better. Instead, they mingled an honest pouring-out of their feelings with sincere, God-honoring praise." Myers also says: "I find that sooner or later (often sooner) the Lord releases me from being a slave to my distressing emotions. He unties the tight knots within me and settles my feelings, though He may not answer my questions about how He's handling my affairs. And when at times praise does not quickly bring inner feedom and joy, I can say, 'Lord, I can't praise You in the same way I did last week (or last year). I can't seem to respond to You with the same sense of delight and celebration. But I do choose to lift You high, praising You for what You are and what You mean to me.' " Since the day I wrote that mis-heard sentence in my notebook (I didn't change it!) I have thought about, and even looked for, odd times to praise Him. When I have, I have seen a difference in how I cope in those moments, and my relationship with Him has grown so much deeper. I praised God two summers ago while I held my sick child in a foreign country. I praised Him during a health issue I recently experienced. I praised Him yesterday when I was grieving the news of the death of a dear friend. I don't always do this, and I do revert to "panic mode" way more often than I should, but by His grace and through His precious Holy Spirit, He's teaching me. Have you praised Him at some odd times? Would you share it with us in the comments? God is good, all the time. May we praise Him at all times. Even the odd ones. I will bless the LORD at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. Psalm 34:1  Labels: Cyndi's Articles, praise Leave a comment... 11 Comments Links to this post
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