From The Sheep Pen

“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters.” Isaiah 55:1

July has been a hot month even here in the mountains. Temperatures are hovering in the mid to high eighties. While mornings are pleasantly cooler, the heat ratchets upwards by late afternoon. My veggies in the garden thrive in this blessing of heat. Eggplant, peppers, even a few small tomatoes are putting on a show and the green beans which are notorious for freezing out too early have a good chance of producing more than leaves.

I am delighted to see what God brings forth in the gardens, but part of my job is to make sure everything is well watered every morning and sometimes again in the afternoon. Without plenty of water, plants would quickly wilt and die. Life, especially human life, needs water. I found that out the hard way last week when I got badly dehydrated. Now, I am not one who naturally drinks a lot of water. I could blame my German father who was of the opinion that water is for bathing in, not for drinking – and would grimace when offered anything “that wet. “ Water is boringly tasteless so I will ignore my need for it – until I become seriously thirsty, especially at night. By that time I have to gulp the sink dry – and afterwards feel bloated, cramped and – still thirsty.

When I became dehydrated last week, no amount of liquid seemed to help because I was physically out of balance. My body needed a total reset. Thankfully, I felt better the next day. Note to self: water is good for you!

In the Bible water is an integral l life force for a desert people whose existence depended on clear, “living” water resources. It is also a powerful metaphor for mankind’s spiritual thirst for God in the midst of a nation needing the Spirit’s rain.

I spread out my hands to you; I thirst for you like a parched land. Psalm 143:6

David often writes of thirsting for God. In times of stress he cries out to the Lord,

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs after You, O God. 2My soul thirsts for God, the living God. Psalm 42:1-2

The graphic image of a deer panting for water is of desperate need and survival. David thirsts for God’s Spirit to quench and sustain him, like a parched animal with its tongue out, lapping up water in a stream. It’s an apt picture of how we can become dangerously physically and spiritually dehydrated.

Prophets and psalms point toward Jesus who became our Living Water; who offered Himself to the Samaritan woman so she would thirst no more; who invites us to come freely to drink of the waters of life as Isaiah prophesied; from Whom fountains and rivers and streams of eternal life flow; who died, saying “I thirst” on the cross to be our righteousness; and who is the Promise in Revelation that every natural and spiritual thirst will be satisfied in Him.

On the great Feast of Tabernacles Jesus offered Himself as libation, not as a good man nor as a prophet, but as the source of life.

On the last day, the climax of the festival, Jesus stood and shouted to the crowds, “Anyone who is thirsty may come to me! Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, ‘Rivers of living water will flow from his heart.’ John 7: 37-39

How thirsty are you today? How parched is your body and soul for the real deal to quench that longing that will not be satisfied? Have you been downing artificial sports drinks or energy concoctions or even cases of bottled water trying to find relief? How dehydrated apart from the Word of God have you allowed yourself to become?

It’s not complicated. Open your Bible. Read Isaiah and pray the Psalms. Spend time in the Gospel of John. Respond to Jesus’ invitation to come and drink from Him. His water is good, quenching every thirsting soul.

God bless America, land that I love

Today is July Fourth, Independence Day, the birthday of this beautiful country called the United States of America. Today I remember all the blessings which God has bestowed on us as Americans. How thankful I am for the life I’ve been allowed to have here. Today I absolutely refuse to be an ingrate or politically disgruntled grumpy pants. Today I write and pray because I am free to do so, because I’m the recipient of constitutionally guaranteed rights and privileges unheard of in any other historical epoch and because God who is the authority over this nation’s historical and spiritual destiny deserves to be praised.

Once upon a time a hundred years ago in 1918, Irving Berlin, a Jewish immigrant, wrote the iconic song called “God Bless America.” It became very popular during the second world war and it was sung on Armistice Day in 1938 by Kate Smith. No one could sing it like the amazing Kate . Her rendition still gives goose bumps. Check it out on You tube.

With that same spirit of recognizing God’s blessings toward us, today I offer this prayer:
God bless America. Land that I love.

Heavenly Father, we thank you for every blessing you have poured out on this land and nation. We thank you for America which shines from sea to shining sea. We thank you for the crashing waves upon the oceans, for jagged coastlines, for grain-rich prairies and for mountains’ grandeur. Only You, God, could have displayed such majesty in America. We thank you, Gracious Lord, for protection from all past and present enemies. Our liberty reflects your loving kindness, your grace and your benevolent hand upon us. We thank you for the Christian faith and foundations of our forefathers, which shaped our governing principles. Father, please bless this nation for the times are very troubled. We believe that it is You God who raises up leaders to govern wisely but brings down those who oppose you . Father, bless America, not with material wealth but with the infinite richness of knowing Jesus as our Pilgrim ancestors knew Him. Return us to Yourself, O Lord.

Stand beside her and guide her,
Through the night with the Light from above.

O, God, if a young Jewish immigrant can praise You like this in a song, can we do any less? Please be present to us today and in the next months as our country moves through times of great challenges. Lord, as Americans we need restoration with one another. Guide us to love freely and to forgive, especially our enemies. You are the same, yesterday, today and tomorrow and do not change. Your Word will not fail if we listen to Your Voice and humble ourselves. Guide us in repentance for our transgressions toward you. Forgive us for disrespecting the godly heritage we’ve been given. I ask that the Light of Jesus shines forth in every Christian, in every church and assembly to be light and salt to our nation. Empower us by the Holy Spirit to stand fast in faith and to rely on You alone for the future of America.

God, please bless America, still our home sweet home on earth.

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you. Exodus 20:12

Today on Father’s Day I think about my own father. Today I honor his memory and his life and consider the legacies which he left to me. He passed away five years ago in 2013 at the amazing age of 104 after a minor illness which sent him to the hospital. There his aged body simply gave out – and he left earth quietly on an April morning to be in heaven with my mother and my older brother Joe.

His name was Anton, the second son in his family to be called by that name, after a brother who died as an infant. Friends and family simply called him “Toni.” When I was very young, I remember calling him Datti or Daddy, but then one time my brother Joe called him “Pop” and the name stuck. He was my Pop thereafter. I’ve come to understand that Datti was just too intimate and personal for my very proud father who was neither.

Pop came from a very different world and time. Most of the town where he was born in 1909 had neither electricity nor indoor plumbing. Families were German, Catholic with eight to ten children running around the small farms and businesses. They were poor and hard working. Education was by nuns and up to the sixth grade only. My father left home at 14 to apprentice as a woodworker/cabinet maker. It was the trade he mastered and loved his entire life. He went to war for Germany in WWII and in the aftermath had to put our shattered lives back together by emigrating. His story is long, complicated and a spiritual testimony to God’s watching over us..

I was not close to my Pop. He was proud, distant and closed off, especially to his children. Early on he was often moody, angry and explosive. As the only girl in the family, I could never figure out how to get his approval. Most of the time, I felt as if he simply tolerated me and didn’t really care who I was. I studied hard in school and became an educated, confrontational pain in the neck daughter. We argued about anything and everything, especially history, politics and religion and everything in between. Our relationship was always uneasy. It was as if one of us wanted to receive something from the other – and wasn’t getting it. I wanted Pop’s affirmation, approval and love. I really wanted his blessing. Truthfully, I don’t know what he wanted because his pride wouldn’t let him ask. As years went by, our relationship grew closer. We forgave one another, accepted each other and with God’s grace I learned what my father’s love was.

While my father did not or could not give me what I wanted from him, he left me a large legacy of different, precious gifts. He gave me life during difficult war times when having a child must have been very questionable. His courage to survive horrific memories and begin life all over brought me to this country. He was innovative, creative and intelligent and sometimes I find similar gifts when I write or quilt. My father was never perfect, but he had great integrity. He believed in the Ten Commandments – and obeyed them. He is the only person I know who kept Sunday as the Sabbath. I’ve never met another man as morally pure in the old fashioned sense of the world. Although he could swear in three different languages, I never heard my father make a dirty remark or tell a smutty joke. He taught me the value of seeking out the truth, even as I challenged his hard held beliefs. And while he never would admit to it, I know Pop was proud of all three of his children’s accomplishments, his sons in professions, his daughter in education.

When the grandchildren came along, my father finally showed his softer side. Seeing him with the children, I saw my father’s heart being unabashedly poured out. With his grandchildren, he was like a child himself. Mostly, my father had great faith. Even into his 90’s, he’d attend church every Sunday. I know he prayed for me and my loved ones for decades. My father’s spirit often wrestled with God about his past. Sometimes he’d doubt the efficacy of prayer, but that never stopped him from praying and getting on his knees. This is my legacy. I had a praying father!

Happy Father’s Day, Pop. Ich liebe dich.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! 1. John 3:1

Some blogs are easy to write. Ideas come easily, words flow readily and random thoughts become coherent. At the end of a good Sheep Pen day , the day is very good.

Today is harder. Although my life is going quite well, I’m unsettled. In the past, any 24 hours without drama and chaos would have been priceless so I’m very grateful for the absence of problems. However, why then this lingering malaise and discontent? Why when my personal life is quiet is my spirit not at ease? I take comfort that King David who was much wiser and more spiritually mature than I also lamented:
Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. Psalm 45:5

Whenever I’m dejected, have the blues, or am down in the dumps I need not look far for the cause. In my case it originates from past rejection, insecurity and feeling worthless. Childhood “father issues”, ancient and more recent family history and awkward, frustrating relationships top the list. Pick a number. Personal conflicts can cause a tailspin of rejection. Life on planet earth constantly buffeted by the devil ain’t for the feeble.

I can’t afford indulging in self pity so I took it before the Lord. “Heavenly Father, I feel like a big fat zero lately. What am I worth anyway? What are any of us worth? I can’t seem to grasp it. Help me to see differently. Show me what I am worth in Your eyes.” Of course the answer came even before my prayer was finished. In my spirit I heard, “purchased by God, at the highest price.” That is who you are.

Our value is not who we think we are, what we do or what we dream about. It isn’t relationships either going well or stinkingly sour. t isn’t trying to fit in by performing for someone else. It isn’t living up to others expectations or what I believe are their expectations of me. My self worth isn’t being spiritual or serving in ministry. I dare to say it isn’t even worshiping God on Sundays either in majestic cathedrals or in sound and stage mega churches. The Spirit of God says:

God so loved the World that He gave His only begotten Son. John 3:16

My worth – and yours – is that God paid the highest price for us. He gave His beloved Son Jesus and there is no higher price possible for our redemption. Jesus also paid the highest price – his precious life on the cross. Greater love, a greater cost than this, no man has. Dare we even consider ask what the highest price of the Holy Spirit is?

Our worth is not one jot in ourselves, but in God. Psalm 103 reminds us that humans are like flowers and grass. The wind passes by and we’re no more. But God knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. He pities us, loves us, forgives us and has mercy toward us – and sent Jesus to redeem us. Therein is our intrinsic value. No one can take away our worth in Christ Jesus or separate us from the love of God we have in Him. When Jesus said, “It is finished,” the price was paid in full. He set the bar for what we’re worth in heaven with God, His Father. Nothing can be less. Nothing can be greater. It is finished and I am/you are worth something because Jesus paid everything.

I think of slaves on the auction block. Slave buyers haggle a price based on what is offered and what can be gotten out of the poor wretch. The slave’s worth lasts only as long as he can provide much more than the slave price. Too often I’ve acted like a slave – to what I don’t even know. I feel compelled to Work it out even to death, to prove the impossible to everyone – or else. It is a demonic whip lashing by a furious Satan.

To put our real God- given worth into perspective, consider this. The highest price paid for any art work was for a painting by Leonardo Da Vinci. A year ago it went at Sotheby’s auction for 450 million dollars, despite doubts as to its authenticity. An unidentified buyer was willing to pay a very big price to own Da Vinci’s masterpiece. The painting is of Christ, “Salvator Mundi” (Savior of the World). How interesting! Someone was willing to spend half a billion dollars for an image of the Messiah. We receive the real Savior of the world who paid the highest price for us. We receive Him just by asking not by paying. God’s way reverses the world!

Our loving Father is not a slave trader, slave seller or slave buyer. He purchased us at the penultimate price off the auction block of sin and slavery and then He made us children and heirs. His reborn children are worth more than silver, gold, art masterpieces or any created thing because God’s love has been poured out on us. I need to burn this onto my heart especially when the devil tells me I’m not worth a rotten fig. How dare I believe I’m worthless! I’ve been purchased of God at great cost. There is nothing greater than Jesus’ price paid in full.

Today, if you hear the sound of His Voice, believe it is finished. My worth is set by Jesus forever. It’s a promise to cling to. Might it also be for you?

The LORD had said to Abram, “Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father’s family, and go to the land that I will show you. Genesis 12:1

It’s been a good week. Along with birthdays – mine and some friends’ – I celebrated a special, private anniversary this week. It is the day my family and I arrived in the United States which my father always called “Amerika” (probably because in German die Vereinigten Staaten is really a mouthful!)

It was May 22, 1950. My mother and father, my older brother Joe and I, along with my cousin Rosi who was 20, had crossed the Atlantic on the British ocean liner, the “Queen Mary. ” We’d left Europe from Bremerhaven in Germany about seven days prior to make the long voyage from war torn Europe to the Promised Land of America. I was a skinny, painfully shy six year old. Truthfully, I have few memories of that time of my life. I know the Atlantic seas were very cold and rough in May because we were seasick in our cabin and on deck. People on the ship were kind to my family. I vaguely remember having an orange to eat. A fellow passenger had to show my mother how to peel the orange because we’d never eaten one before. Much of the voyage is lost to me but I have a photograph of us standing on the deck of the Queen Mary, being blown by the wind, with the Statue of Liberty in the background. It is a precious picture. The day after we landed I had my seventh birthday.

My family came to the U.S. as immigrants. Their former lives had been totally destroyed during the war. It’s a story much too complicated for a 500 word blog but I’d love to tell you about it some time. Post- War Germany was economically, socially and spiritually ruined. There was no opportunity or future. More importantly, there was no hope for families to survive let alone thrive, especially for refugees like us. The decision to leave must have been excruciatingly difficult for my parents because a remnant of the family was left behind. Some followed later; others remained in Germany. At that time travel across the Atlantic was difficult and arduous, so saying “farewell “ was sadly permanent. My Keller Oma (maternal) saw my mother again only twice in the eight years before she died.

I think about my parents’ courage and devotion. I think about how much they loved Joe and me to make such huge sacrifices for us to have a better life, especially through education. Mostly, I reflect on the countless blessings I’ve received since our arrival so long ago in this country, the undeniable blessings of life, liberty and happiness under God. Faith sustained my parents especially in the difficult years of acclimating to a new language, a new country, new customs, new fellow travelers and new ways of thinking. God has always been in the equation, sometimes visibly but often invisibly. Looking into the rear view mirror of my life, I can testify that His protection, love and mercy are undeniably real.

That day when we disembarked from the Queen Mary to step onto American soil, everything changed. A new life unfolded. The future held hope and promise. War’s death heads were ending. Eventually, traumatic memories faded. We found healing, peace, freedom and security. We became citizens in a new land.

Is this not what God intends for us all along? Is this not the blessed invitation Jesus gives when He steps onto the path before us and calls us to Himself? Come. Leave the old country, the old ways, the old demolished life. Come follow Me and I will make you… Jesus offers a life in Him so filled with promise it seems impossible, but the promises are from a loving Father who does the impossible.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

God had a definite plan for me and my family. His Word promises the same for all through faith in Christ. Jesus is our salvation greater than any ship, however, powerfully it tries to tame the sea. He can and will take you through contrary tempests to the shore of His love. He offers the eternal kingdom of God which is never confined to any country on earth. Believe. Respond to His Voice. Be reborn.

For the choir director. A Psalm of the sons of Korah, set to Alamoth. A Song. God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.

This week at McCall Rehab and Care Center we held our bi-monthly Wednesday Prayer Service. What a sweet, blessed time it was! Two of our musical members played guitars while their wives sang harmony alongside. We never know how many of the residents will show up for the service, but it is always the perfect number, the ones the Lord brings. I am certain that even those who can’t leave their rooms – or are not sure about what’s going on – can hear praise filling the care center, down the hallways, into closed doors. That makes me want to sing.

I’d been meditating on Psalm 46, the beautiful one which reminds us that God is our refuge and strength. Martin Luther was so inspired by it that he penned the glorious hymn “ A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” Most of us are more than familiar with verse 10: “Be still and know that I am God.” It’s preached from the pulpit and offered as spiritual salve to those in distress. We’ve probably quoted it countless times. In fact it is so commonplace it‘s crept out of the Bible into the secular culture. Often it means little more than “settle down” or “pay attention to your inner self.” That self-centered introspection is not biblical stillness which fully trusts in God’s strength during stormy upheavals.

We read Psalm 46 to the residents on Wednesday, encouraging quietness of the soul and spirit, but as I looked around at people confined to wheelchairs or bent over in arm chairs or lost in their private, unresponsive worlds, reminding them to “be still” seemed both foolish and contrary. Physically, most of them have no other option. Many are dependent on someone else for their mobility. Psalm 46’s “stillness” has to be something greater than physical inactivity or “being settled down.”

Be still and know that I am God is not a casual suggestion. It is a command which should have an imperative exclamation point after it. ! ! Actually, it is two commands from the Lord. Because we are fidgety, unfocused children paying attention to every pretty butterfly or worrisome wasp flitting by, God says to (a) stop and (b) look to Him instead. It is God who is our help in every human disaster, whether seemingly ceaseless war or natural desolations. Why?

Consider the verses which follow:

I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth! The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our stronghold. Psalm 46: 10-11

We’re told to be still for a specific reason – to exalt God. Despite the craziness and disasters of the world, exalt Him among the nations and on the earth. Be still in your fears – and exalt Him for His loving refuge. Be still in your weakness – and exalt Him as Lord of hosts whose mighty strength overcomes every enemy. Be still in temptations to worry, doubt, fret and stress – and exalt Him at all times, in every possible circumstance. Whether you are able to stand up or whether you’re confined to a bed, Be Still! Know Who is near you.

Come and see the works of God, Who is awesome in His deeds toward the sons of men. Psalm 66:5

…For behold, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone. The flowers have already appeared in the land; The time has arrived for pruning the vines, And the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land. Song of Songs 2:11-12

Ah, spring in the mountains! It is finally here. Daffodils, purple hyacinths and occasional tulips have poked through winter to gladden my heart. Robins awaken me in the morning and later at dusk bid me to quiet down. The hummingbirds arrived in chilly April and bravely hang around waiting for flower heads to appear. By mid morning the sky’s painted cerulean blue until clouds form patterns of light and shadow. Hillsides around our home are carpeted with yellow balsam root and wild lupines. Some spring mornings it’s so lovely, I can hardly breathe.

Spring is the shortest season in our area. It comes late, almost reluctantly and doesn’t hang around very long. In a few weeks, the summer season will arrive and while I love summer “when the living is easy” and carefree, especially in this beautiful recreational area, it is in spring that I’m most grateful for God’s blessings. I pay closer attention to small and large changes occurring outside, whether it is the aspen suddenly leafing out or the chipmunks coming back to harass the dog. Spring makes me restless to dream dreams and have visions for what is ahead, to move out of winter doldrums and into new life.

As in natural seasons so in spiritual new beginnings. When Nicodemus, a Pharisee and lawyer , questioned Jesus about the impossibility of being born again, Jesus answered,

“Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. John 3:5-6

When we are born again, the old man dies and we receive the new life of Christ in us. The former debris piles choking life are discarded, just like winter slash. Jesus “the Sun of righteousness with healing in His wings” comes into the heart to shine light, brighter than earth’s sun on a new May morning. In Jesus’ healing light, love and holiness given through the Holy Spirit, fleshly concerns die; the spiritual life is transformed. New seeds begin to grow in our hearts to bear fruit in later seasons. In the springtime when we’re born again, the Lord invites us to awaken out of sleep and to follow Him.

Rise up, my love, my fair one. And come away! Song. 2:13

This new life in Christ is the most wondrous of my life’s season. Not for me is either lush summer or autumn’s glory. Certainly it isn’t cold, cold winter. For me it is unquestionably spring. Every day of being reborn is a new day that the Lord has made in which to rejoice and be glad. Every morning winter is past; the rain is over and gone. God’s love and mercy continually renews surrendered hearts with living water so that day by day a longing restlessness comes over us. In his “Confessions” St Augustine described it thus:

“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”

Augustine’s eloquent description of the reborn soul is simply “spring fever”, when we’ve fallen in love with Jesus and are hopelessly smitten.

… and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving. Psalm 28:7

Yesterday afternoon my husband and I were driving home from Boise and as we headed up Horseshoe Bend Hill from the south, there on the side of the road tucked up against the hillside was a guy playing the drums. Now I am not talking about a New Agey little tribal drum, but a full set of percussions . As in rock band. Or modern worship team. The guy was pounding away at full speed all by himself on that hillside. What in the world was that? And what is the back story that led to him being there? My imagination ran wild.

Now granted driving at 60 miles per hour, we were past him in a flash, but the moment was so humorous, we got the giggles. Dan is blessed with a big infectious laugh that won’t quit as we imagined all kinds of scenarios. I’m not sure what was funnier, Drummer or husband, but It was better than most things posted on You Tube!

God created our hearts for joy. We’re created in His image and likeness and therefore if we have joy it is because God is joyful. One of the components of joy is a sense of humor. He gave us a funny bone to be tickled at unexpected moments, like yesterday’s incident. And who could doubt that God has a sense of humor? As some wag has pointed out, just look at the platypus. (Or perhaps yourself when no one else is looking on and you’re singing a cappella).

English has lots of lovely words for what is humorous: funny, droll, ironic, amusing, mirth, witty, comical, quirky, absurd, ludicrous, We can add hysterical, weird, bizarre and the ever handy superlatives “so” and “too”. “That was too funny. He’s so amusing!” And of course, we laugh. We’re meant to laugh at circumstances and at ourselves. It lightens the burdens we carry and gives us a healthy dose of humility so we don’t take ourselves so seriously all the time. If we can find healthy humor in our lives, I think we loosen the grip of the world and are more apt to see God’s hand working in it. A sense of humor balances the ridiculous and the sublime, so to speak.

Sadly, humor is one more thing that the enemy has hijacked. I won’t go into all the things that political correctness has forbidden to be funny, but it is impossible to ignore that funny is no longer funny. Comedians make me cringe, not grin. Smutty innuendo has replaced subtlety. Vileness and blatant sexual coarseness is the standard material of comedy routines and it is getting worse by the hour. Whatever has happened to clever word plays, puns or amusing stories? Where are the gifted writers like Mark Twain or Charles Dickens who could skewer society with wit and wisdom, but without killing anyone’s soul? I wonder if any of the late night comedians – and their ilk – would think the drum- playing musician on Horseshoe Bend Hill was funny? I rather doubt it. It is not in their corrupted script. There are no platypuses in public humor anymore.

Dan and I were very blessed by Drummer Guy. He gave us the best gift – a good laugh. I hope he blessed all the other persons in their cars doing double takes as they passed by. I wonder how often his story is being relayed today to friends and family. “Hey, You wouldn’t believe what I saw. I wish you were there to see this guy. It was sooooo funny!”

In the days ahead we may need to foster a sense of humor and not despair. God who is our true joy has given us strength to endure this present darkness even with a little light heartedness. We thank you, Father in Heaven, for your strengthening joy, for laughter and for unexpected, funny scenarios.

The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. Psalm 28:7

He departed again to the mountain by Himself alone. John 6:15
When He had come down from the mountain, great multitudes followed Him. Matthew 8:1

I tend toward the solitary. Although I enjoy being around others, especially my family and good friends, I’m pretty content and rarely bored when I’m alone. However, I’ve been married for over five decades to a terrific man and in this season neither one of us is ever alone very long. Most of the time we’re together 24/7. I thank the Lord for longevity in marriage! It is a gift. I’ve learned that when I’m alone, doing my own thing in the garden, walking in the hills or making a new quilt, I am just fine and at peace. It’s also a gift. But I’ve found a greater blessing – not merely to be by myself, but to be alone with the person I love. Can there be a lovelier relationship than simply being with another beloved person, without the multitudes intruding? It’s been God’s intention for intimacy from the beginning. We get a glimpse in the Garden.

The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” Genesis 2:18

Before the snake came, Adam and Eve were alone with one another and they were alone with the LORD God who walked with them in the cool of the day. That was and still is God’s relational blueprint for mankind. With the fall came sin. Then came separation and loneliness and isolation. Then came the inexorable, slow death of the heart’s deepest longings – to be with someone special and to be with the Creator. Our spiritual DNA shimmers with the memory.

Jesus was rarely alone. From the beginning to the end of His ministry, crowds followed Him everywhere He went. It’s hard to imagine the tremendous noise, jostling, press of bodies and general chaos of the multitudes in Galilee thronging around Jesus. I’ve ridden the subway in New York during rush hours and have been packed cheek to jowl with total strangers inside a train car. Here the comparison ends, for no one talks on a New York train. Everyone is shut off. No one is alone with their train mates.

In those days, Jesus went out to the mountain to pray, and He spent the night in prayer to God. Luke 6:12

Jesus went up the mountain at solitary hours to pray to the Father, away from the constant demands of people for the crowds were always waiting for Him to come back down. The Bible doesn’t describe Jesus during those times nor His prayers but they must have been intense. If Jesus needed alone time with the Father, how much more do we need to seek God? He spent the night in prayer because He knew the cross was ahead of Him and what His obedience to the Father cost. Redemption came at the highest price so that we now have the right to spend time alone with God. His prayers on the mountain remind us that God’s grace has restored us to Edenic intimacy. Imagine that! We can actually be alone with our Creator. We don’t have to go up a special mountain. The secret place of Psalm 91 can be anywhere we respond to His Voice.

Aside from Jesus’ solitary time on the mountain, there are two distinct instances when Jesus was truly alone. The first time the Spirit led Him into the desert to be tempted. The Lord spent forty days by Himself in the wilderness and then the devil came along to tempt Him. The second time Jesus hung on the cross, crying out in agony as He felt the crushing weight of sin separating Him from His Abba.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? Psalm 22:2

Because of Jesus’ atonement we now have assurance and promise that He will neither forsake nor leave us. Whether we’re in the wilderness being tempted more than we can handle or enduring trials more than we can bear, Jesus earned back our intimacy with the Father. God alone is forever with us; we are forever alone with Him.

And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them. Mark 10:16

Last weekend I went to Quilt Camp. I can imagine the quizzical look on some faces. “What in the world is a quilt camp?” Well, it’s exactly as it sounds. It is the chance to get away for a few days to sew and to do what makes us quilters happy – play with fabrics, talk, visit and make huge messes. In this case I went to Quaker Hill Camp in McCall along with 42 other ladies.

Considering the amount of sewing supplies necessary for our projects, it was an amazing spectacles. Sewing machines, irons, plug ins, extension cords, pins and needles were stacked and strewn everywhere, along with fabrics of every hue and color. It was truly multi generational fun because several women brought their granddaughters to learn quilting. I wished mine were able to be there with me.

One of the traditions on such weekends is to have a “Show and Tell” on Saturday night where people bring projects old and new to display. It is always an impressive display of talent and creativity. One of the young girls who was about 14 showed off her little quilt and definitely was the winner for the evening. You see, the girl has Down syndrome. She made the quilt with the help of her grandmother and it was absolutely precious, just as she is. The smile on her face lit up the room and touched every heart, especially mine. I thought about Jesus who loved the children and surrounded Himself with them, even to the disciples’ annoyance and I knew the Lord was crazy proud of that little girl’s life and creativity. It is not so in this darkened world we live in.

Several countries now use genetic counseling to test for Down syndrome in pregnancy and as a result thousands of women choose to abort the babies if the prenatal tests reveal the disorder. Iceland has proudly eradicated all Down babies to almost 100%. Termination rates in Denmark, France and the United States aren’t that far behind either. But even if it were less than 5%, it is appalling. The rising statistics should cause all people, not just Christians, to ask the hard questions. What has happened to humanity? Where is compassion? Love? Selfless protection for those whom Jesus loved? The ethical and moral implications are too enormous for this small blog to address but my heart hurts for all those who see nothing evil in this trend. If today it is a Down syndrome baby that is endangered, who is next on the list for annihilation?

There is some good news. The Gerber Company chose Lucas Warren, a sweet faced one year-old as its 2018 Gerber baby. He is the first child with Down syndrome to be named a Gerber baby. There are signs of a growing backlash in the light of what has happened in Iceland. But more than a pricked conscience is needed to stand against this horrific misdirection within the evil of abortion.

The greatest news is the Word of God. It alone has the power to awaken people to the Light of Christ. Jesus had a lot to say about children whom He often included to teach. In almost every instance Jesus says that children are special to Him and the Father.

See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven. Matthew 18:10

To enter into God’s kingdom we are to be like little children and have child like dispositions.

Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it. Mark 10:15

The Lord did not mince words concerning those who would harm children nor did He concern Himself only with “normally healthy” children.

If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Matthew 18:6

The girl at my quilt camp epitomized Down innocence and all the childlike qualities which Jesus asks us to emulate. How can anyone even consider it is ok to eradicate little ones like her? I pray it is not too late to protect them for they are the living gift which Father God has set into our midst. I pray for His mercy on Iceland – and on us.