Thank You, My GREATEST Audience

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As a writer, it is of extreme importance that I have an audience.
A readership.
My Highest Lord and Editor has graciously given me that.
I thank Him for you, my reader.
Most of all, I’m extremely thankful for His own attentiveness to my words.
He attends to my words, here, and in prayer, personally.
He listens, He hears, He reads me,
and, best of all, He responds!
So . . .

I thank you, Oh Highest Lord,
For seeing the words from my hands,
For hearing the audible words my mouth has spoken,
For hearing the silent words my mind has formed,
For attending to the words from my pen,
For reading the language of my body,
For embracing the singular manuscript of my soul,
And, most of all, for hearing the words
constantly uttered by my remade, worshipful heart.
I thank You, Lord, for hearing me,
Understanding my prayer,
Attending to the many parts, and forms, and sounds of my voice;
 And responding,
In Your own time,
In your own way,
For my good,
In this holy, ongoing, conversation we have, Lord.
I thank You.

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Thankful for a Grateful Heart

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Ten thousand million billion moments
With which my life is filled.
Each one shorter than a second,
Less; even shorter still.
Each one begins, and each one ends,
But is not taken away.
And each one has no meaning, then,
At the end of the average day.
Meaningless moments, but for Christ,
Who redeemed them all for me,
Tied them all together,
Made them all to be.
A whole life – a life that begins and ends,
But is not taken away.
As if that were not enough,
He also gave me words to say
A prayer of thanks for a grateful heart,
The gift of which is precious.
A heart to embrace the building joy
Of gratitude for Him, so gracious.
So, I give heartfelt thanks
For the moments,
For the life,
For redemption,
For Christ,
For the gift of a grateful heart,
And for more,
Much more,
I thank You;
Thank You, Lord!


Happy Giving of the Thanks today!

Beauty Never Gets Old

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Beauty never gets old
In the eye of its beholder.

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For it is already old,
And the beholder’s eye sees more
Than it ever expected to allow inside:
The Light of The Eons.

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A mere wondrous thought of the Ancient of Days.
An idea from His creative mind.
An image of His character.

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Beauty — an attribute of His Word and Son.
At once ancient, timeless, and present.

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At once, fresh, and young, and new, and most pleasing.
A joy to behold,
Beauty never gets old.

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Hold it!
Embrace it!
Behold . . . Him!

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Beauty never gets old
In the eye of its beholder.
For it is already old,

And the beholder’s eye sees more
Than it ever expected to allow inside:
The Light of The Eons.
A mere wondrous thought of the Ancient of Days.

An idea from His creative mind.
An image of His character.
Beauty — an attribute of His Word and Son.

At once ancient, timeless, and present.
At once, fresh, and young, and new, and most pleasing.

A joy to behold,
Beauty never gets old.
Hold it!

Embrace it!
Behold . . . Him!

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The images above hardly begin to portray, nor depict, the beauty of His created works.
Hardly an iota.
Certainly not alpha to omega.
Because:

It is said that Lord Jesus, The Son of God,
The Word Who Is God and was God,
And was with God, at and before The Creation,
Made everything from nothing.
I propose that He made everything, not from nothing,
But from Himself,
Who is Everything at once!
That is why we have beauty.
It is part of His image,
His attributes,
His wonderfulness.
For He IS Beauty.
Lord Jesus is the one, , , true, , ,
Beautiful One!

Gloryteller
8-9-13

 

 

Momentously Graced

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Grace comes moment by moment,
Abiding until the next.
Life, a momentary comment,
By grace is momentously blessed.

L< Gloryteller
7-28-13

He Returns On Fire In The Third Person

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Gloryteller has returned in the third person, on fire to write.   (Who even missed him or noticed a lack of recent posts?)
He was “on retreat” in The Mountains once more.
He is, once more, humbled.
He is humbled beyond his usual daily state of  humbled-ness.
Unexpectedly.
Surprisedly.
Hiking and climbing  joyously with his youngest son, “College Guy”,
who is such a one that there should be no surprise at being humbled by him — by him and of course by Creator God, Who lets Gloryteller,
and indeed helps him,
do what he can’t do,
go where he can’t go,
see what he can’t see,
and be what, and whom, he can’t be.

As the mountains caught fire, he did too, in the spiritual sense.
Humbled, yet on fire?  Yes, like the lightning-sparked blazes in the forests, it was completely natural.
Fire is a muse to him.
So is driving.
So is hiking.
So is lightning.
And thunder-like-a-cannon is a muse to him.
And sitting on a peak, and watching the clouds, and living a life.
So are many writers a muse to him.  (You might be one of them)
So are extraordinarily ordinary people, and not so ordinary,
like Tim The Waiter, who most likely will never read about his genuine, inspiring self here.
Sources of inspiration —
Muses.
Nothing more than types and shadows of The One Source of his true inspiration.
He’s back, yet still away.
Humbled.
Emboldened.
Muse in his own right.
Blazing with ‘musement.
‘Mazement.
He contemplates.
He ruminates.
He wonders.
He ponders……..

What fire burns there?
What does a muse muse about?

He picks up his flat-keyed ‘pen’ and begins to spark lightning-fires,
His muses prompting, chittering, talking excitedly all at once.

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Father, Son, Pinnacle

Father, Son, Pinnacle

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I AM, I Must, I Overflow

I, Writer

I AM an artist who has a painting inside,
Begging its colors be seen.

I AM a sculptor who has a statue inside,
Screaming to take form in stone.

I AM a singer who has a song in me,
Shouting to be given a voice.

I AM a songwriter who has a streaming score of notes in me,
Imploring that I arrange them into music.

I AM a minister with a message that wants out,
Pleading to be given life.

I AM an actor with the line of a lifetime,
Prompting me incessantly to be delivered.

I AM a poet, an epic verse within,
Oh, how it longs for its flight into the world.

I AM all the above and too many more to name,
Having gifts within to be shared and un-contained.
Too full!
Alas, it is a cloying form of cruelty,
A pretty kind of pain.

I AM
All the above,
For Real and in Figure,
I AM a writer with untold stories stewing,
Steaming, brewing,
Lines and verses,
Of characters, and plots, and loves, and loss, and joy,
And glories
Ready to burst forth from my heart, and chest, and breath, and pen.

Only a writer could know…..
Especially,
A Writer like God……

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An Expanded Prayer To My Father In Heaven

 

My Father

 

Oh, my Father-God and my Lord, Who walks the vast halls of Heaven,
Where You live, and breathe, and reign sovereign
Over everything finite and eternal.
From where You speak,
From where You write Your Word,
From where You see all, know all, and do all,
From where You give Your unfathomable grace,
Your mercy, and forgiveness,
From where You open Your hands and pour out goodness,
And from where You sent Your Love Incarnate, Immanuel.

Your name is Holy.
Let me kneel humbly, respectfully,
In reverence to Your glorious name.

May Your kingdom, Your realm, be established,
May Your kingship be proclaimed,
May everything You desire to happen
Be done here on Earth, just as it is in Heaven.

I ask that You continue to provide all I need
In the form of wholesome food and water to nourish my body,
As well as The Living Bread, and The Living Water,
And understanding of Your Word, with personal revelation,
To nourish my soul.

I ask that You help me remember how You paid my debts
On the horrible cross of torture.
How You took my sin upon Yourself, Jesus,
How You gave Yourself in propitiating atonement, and in conciliation,
And appeasement, for my trespasses against You, Father-God.
Help me Lord to continue to learn to forgive others their debts against me,
Their trespasses, wrongs, crimes, and sins against me,
Just as You have so mercifully and graciously forgiven mine through Christ.

I ask You, Lord, to lead me away from the temptations of this world.
Help me keep your Word, Your principles, in obedience.
Lead me through the minefields, the snares, and the pitfalls,
For they are many, and my enemy shows me only the bait,
But hides the trap well.
Protect and deliver me from that devil, from that evil one, in Jesus name!

And finally, Almighty Father, I want to proclaim Your Kingdom.
It is the Kingdom of kingdoms, and You are the King of kings!

I proclaim that Your power is absolute.  It is the power that created
Beautiful Creation in its entire completeness.
It is the power to create human beings in Your image,
Human minds, souls, and hearts.
It is the awe-inspiring, miraculous power to change those hearts,
And save those souls.

And, I proclaim Your Glory, Lord.
How can I explain Your Glory?
It is too beautiful, too splendidly colorful, too exquisitely bright!
It blinds my eyes, baffles my mind, closes my mouth.
It is love unleashed, fervent, and intense.
It is Your inexplicable mercy, and grace, and kindness, and generosity.
It is as inexplicable as You, my God.
You’re glorious in Your Glory.
You ARE the Most High Lord,  Holiness Itself, Ancient of Days, The Great I AM.

Yes, Yours is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory,
For all time, and through unfathomable eternity.
You are my ABBA, my Heavenly Father-God to Whom I pray this prayer.
In Jesus’ most holy name.
Amen, and Amen.

 

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Beyond My Understanding

 Beyond My Understanding

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.    Proverbs 3:5

Way beyond my understanding.
All I know is
It was a miracle that remains
And the miracle was a gift
Delivered to crumbling doorstep
Outside my sagging door locked tight
Nailed shut,
Yet breached,
It sat inside on rotting floor
Shining to be opened.
To be believed past unbelief
By miracle, not my doing.

Gift

It is salvation wrapped in grace undeserved.
The gift of faith to see hope once unseen.
A new heart unchained

Full with compassion
And repentance like a changing wind.
Heart to feel abundant love long unfelt
And mirror eyes to see myself as I am seen
Then others too, the same.
And mercy, charity, a call to pray,
A heart to sing, a heart to praise,
Hands to raise, a Book to read

All unwrapped and taken out,

When gift, upon gift, inside gift, unveiled
Then took away all fears and doubts
Healed my aching soul complete
And full and whole, then more, and more
A heart to tell of gifts and Glory,
Of His Great Love,

Holding out poor offerings,
And gratitude, a heart of thanks, 
I thank you JESUS, thank you LORD!

That You should care for me.
To rebuild my house,
To give me gifts,
To give me Yourself.

Oh, Miracles beyond my dull understanding,
Though nothing is beyond Yours,
I can but sit in rejoicing gratitude.
And no better gift
Nor more precious treasure
Could forever enter
Through my splintered door.

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God Gives That We May Give To Him

At Christmastime, when I was a boy, my dad understood the relative poverty of his children, so he would give us each a small amount of money to be spent on gifts for the other family members.  What was a small amount to him was a small fortune to us, so we each happily shopped with Mom and picked out trinkets and treasures for our siblings and parents.  Wrapping the gifts was fun, but the best part was the excited anticipation we had for Christmas morning when the family would partake in what we children had built in our minds to be the Olympics of giving and receiving.  It was as good as it gets, and after all the unwrapping, and showing, and laughing, and modelling, and cheering, and thanking, we all felt richer and more blessed than we were before.  But it was Dad and Mom, I think, who felt the most blessed, for having given to us so that we could bless each other with gifts.  The money they gave us came back to them, multiplied, in seeing generosity, unselfishness, and brotherly love instilled into us and put into action.  And so it is with God.  He gives out of His abundance, into our poverty, that we may bless others.

Remember:
God gives to us out of His riches,
The gifts we receive are to bless others,
Which is our greatest gift to Him, in turn.

Whether the gift of writing, of singing, of making music, of delivering a message, of healing, of encouraging, of hospitality, of giving time or treasures, of working or helping, of giving testimony, of sowing seeds, of doing a kindness, of giving a hug, or a simple smile, you do have one gift – or more – that you can share with others who are destitute until they receive your unique offering.  All these things came from God.  Shouldn’t we make sure they get back to Him through the proper channels?

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GRATITUDE

Gratitude

Gratitude,
Let me have a heart of gratitude.
Thankfulness,
Let it be my soul’s beatitude.
For blessedness beyond words,
Let my thanks be unconditional toward
You

 

Here is one of my favorite songs about gratitude:
Thank you, Katherine Hardman, and thank you Nichole Nordeman.
Happy Thanksgiving 2012, everyone!

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Grace I Am Un-Limited

Oh, Lord, I have swum astounded, deep into clear Hawaiian lagoons
Holding my breath in the pressing foreign world
On my own before I knew You
In rocky marine corridors where fear is, and faith calls
Twenty feet down in discomfort, but not crushed
Where beautiful creatures live and breathe effortlessly
Looking up in urgency, life and light seemed much too far away
Yet I rose up from distress and received life through Your mercy.

Oh, Lord, I have climbed to dizzying heights in the Rockies
Only on Your power, not my own, amazed that You allowed it
Where breathing became gasping and cold winds blew
Where even clouds and birds played far below my perch
And glorious formations waited for me to stand upon them
Inhospitable, the threatening no-man’s-land, even dangerous
Hesitation overcome by hope of life renewed
In flatter places well-made for my warmth and breath.

Oh, Lord, I have delved deep  into vast, southern subterranean chambers
Where squeezing darkness rules in uneasy peace
Where tunnel and precipice wait and bat wings warn
Where immeasurable crushing weights loom overhead
Where magnificent earthly artwork poses to be admired
Exploration of being — of Spirit, of Earth, and of Spirit again
Who am I to be adventuring out of self and into You who creates
From a Living Love so unrestricted, so infinite, so boundless?

Oh, Lord, Your grace has pulled my heart, my mind, my very soul
Strongly, surely, toward quick-receding limits
Then beyond limits where that beautiful grace can be grasped
Where hope, and faith, and mercy can be held, and felt, and measured
Where peace is palpable, and there is no end
Where Your very Love can be embraced, and seen, and heard
And where, only through Christ, my being, my existence, my overwhelming joy
Is released, freed, and un-limited from the ends of Earth into Life Without End.

 

 

 

In 8/4 time…….

Copyright by Len Snider, Gloryteller   11-1-12

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By Grace Un-Limited

 

By Grace Un-Limited

 

Oh, Lord, I have swum astounded, deep into clear Hawaiian lagoons

Holding my breath in the pressing foreign world

On my own before I knew You

In rocky marine corridors where fear is, and faith calls

Twenty feet down in discomfort, but not crushed

Where beautiful creatures live and breathe effortlessly

Looking up in urgency, life and light seemed much too far away

Yet I rose up from distress and received life through Your mercy.

 

Oh, Lord, I have climbed to dizzying heights in the Rockies

Only on Your power, not my own, amazed that You allowed it

Where breathing became gasping and cold winds blew

Where even clouds and birds played far below my perch

And glorious formations waited for me to stand upon them

Inhospitable, the threatening no-man’s-land, even dangerous

Hesitation overcome by hope of life renewed

In flatter places well-made for my warmth and breath.

 

Oh, Lord, I have delved deep  into vast, southern subterranean chambers

Where squeezing darkness rules in uneasy peace

Where tunnel and precipice wait and bat wings warn

Where immeasurable  crushing weights loom overhead

Where magnificent earthly artwork poses to be admired

Exploration of being — of Spirit, of Earth, and of Spirit again

Who am I to be adventuring out of self and into You who creates

From a Living Love so unrestricted, so infinite, so boundless?

 

Oh, Lord, Your grace has pulled my heart, my mind, my very soul

Strongly, surely, toward quick-receding limits

Then beyond limits where that beautiful grace can be grasped

Where hope, and faith, and mercy can be held, and felt, and measured

Where peace is palpable, and there is no end

Where Your very Love can be embraced, and seen, and heard

And where, only through Christ, my being, my existence, my overwhelming joy

Is released, freed, and un-limited from the ends of Earth into Life Without End.

 

Copyright by Len Snider, Gloryteller   11-1-12

 

 

Love’s Deep

Love’s Deep

 He awoke suddenly, startled into full consciousness from a deep sleep. It was the reverberation of the dream that had roused him. He blinked and turned onto his back. From experience, he knew that when he awoke right after having a dream that he could remember that dream, but this was different. It was as though the memory had preceded the waking. It had been so intense, so vivid, so full of implications that weren’t apparent at the moment. So…….. intentional………

 He had just opened the door to one of the stalls in Grandpa’s old red barn so that he could get his riding mower and cut the grass around the house. He had paused for a moment, turning to enjoy the clear blueness of the Spring sky and the excited singing of the birds, when he saw her walking toward him from the direction of the house. His beautiful young wife was smiling as she approached. She was full of life and showed it in the confident way she carried her tall, slim frame, and in the way she was dressed. Today she was wearing a black, form-fitting dress with white trim circling the neckline, the sleeves, and the bottom hem. There was quite a contrast between her dress and his short-sleeved blue work shirt, jeans, and boots, as well as between her light hair and eyes that matched the sky, and his dark hair and deep brown eyes. As she came closer, he remembered that she had a Ladies’ Group meeting at church at ten o’clock this morning. She was coming out here to say goodbye. That was sweet of her. He felt his love for her welling up as it always did at the mere sight or thought of her. He ‘drank in’ her look, from her long, straight, light brown hair, to her blue eyes, to her amazing lips framing an even more amazing smile. He also ‘drank in’ the look in her eyes. The look of love she usually had for him was unusually intense this morning! It was remarkably deep, even mysteriously so. Enthusiastically ardent. Strongly, deeply emotional. Then the touch of her hands on his face was tender, implying a deep spiritual desire; her kiss, intimately personal, fervently powerful, her affection fiercely burning, evoking blazing bonfires and wild horses galloping, their muscles rippling. Enigmatically, mysteriously inexplicable, it was. He had heard of unconditional love, but this time it was palpable – graspable in a new way, and solidly unchangeable. And now the surfaces and interfaces between them were disappearing and they were somehow moving into each other, not necessarily becoming one, not this moment, but inhabiting one another completely. This was the way they both wanted to stay forever. This was love. Maybe seconds, maybe millennia later, she withdrew from the embrace, running her hands down his arms. Squeezing each others’ hands, they still inhabited each other – occupied each other, their eyes locked, arms still reaching toward the other. Transfixed in wonder, he had never known such a loving feeling directed toward himself. He watched her turn………. and then he was awake and alone in awe and frustration in his dark bedroom.

 The dream, itself had only lasted a few seconds. Short, as dreams go, it was over much too quickly. “And, how strange,” he thought, as he reflected on it. “We were so young………..”

 He was sixty-eight now. Grandpa had been dead for fifty years. After Grandpa had passed on, his dad and he had taken over the farm Grandpa built. Four-hundred acres of row crops, pastures, livestock facilities, and grain storage buildings had been a handful. After Mom died, Dad was never the same. His windmill no longer turned in the wind and he had died too. Then he, Dave, and his new wife, Mary, had run the place until it became too much for them and they leased out the croplands on shares. He still called it “Grandpa’s farm”, though, and the barn was still “Grandpa’s barn”. That part was true to life, but in the dream he was young, and the worst part of all was that the young ‘wife’ in the dream was not Mary………. . Mary had been beautiful, yes, but she’d had dark hair and hazel eyes. And she had died three years ago. But his dream had seemed so real. The girl was a stranger, yet had ‘really been’ his wife. It was like another reality – a different life. And her love – the love between them was real – overwhelmingly real. “Get a hold of yourself, Dave,” he muttered to himself.

 “Ohhhh God, You know I’ve been so lonely, why would You do this to me? It felt like I was cheating on the memory of my Mary. What was the good in that?

Why would You show me a love like that, so intense, so powerful, when even my true love, Mary, and I hardly ever had moments that deep?”

He thought about the overwhelming, intensely deep, real love he had experienced in the dream. He wanted that so badly. How could a man taste that and not pursue it forever? His silent inner-weeping welled up.

“Ohhhh, Lord ………..”

 Then a quiet voice spoke so intensely into his soul that his whole body jerked:

That’s The Way I Love You” …………….

The revelation swirled through him, his whole being tingling. The realization that it was true permeated his being with a warm joy, a welcome peace……..

 “Ohhhh, my Lord, I never knew it was like that.”

His whole being was being flooded with astoundingly wonderful word-pictures. The Lover and the Beloved. Visions filled with fragrance, with music, with flavor, and color:

Love’s deep, yearning pursuit…….

Love’s deep, longing, desire……….

Love’s deep summoning……………..

Love’s deep, fiery-wild embrace…..

Love’s deep, caring concern…………

Love’s deep, all-inhabiting indwelling.

Love’s deep Romance……………………..

Your Deep, YOURS, my Lord …………………….. Oh, how You romance us! And that is only part of it, isn’t it. That’s only the tip of the iceberg that my human heart can perceive, isn’t it? But….. but, Lord, I still don’t understand why You didn’t use my Mary to show me……………………..”

You had to know the difference.

…………………………………………….“ Yes, You are sufficient, Lord. I’ve been needing something, but I just didn’t know what. I feel a lot better, Lord, and I thank You. You love me that much?

Now and evermore have I loved you both.”

I only wish I could return that kind of love”………..

You can, in your way. It is within you.

He tried and tried to find the right words to describe the miraculous encounter, the precious revelation. How could he tell it to others? Love’s selfless deep? Love’s wondrous deep? Love’s unreserved deep? Love’s unconditional deep? It was so mind-boggling. Love’s fathomless deep! Yes that’s it!

Be vigilant, child. Your commission is set. Now find your new heart.”

He tried to go back to sleep and continue the dream. Once in a great while, that actually worked………..…………………

 The next morning was Sunday morning. He got ready for church with a new passion for praise and worship of his Almighty Loving Father and Savior. He had a feeling that this service would be special.

 He was drawn to sit toward the back of the auditorium, on the left side. He usually sat in the center, but the center seemed too crowded. As the soft pre-worship music permeated the large space, he became aware of the conversation of the two ladies who sat in front of him. He was not one to eavesdrop, yet he couldn’t help but gather bits and pieces of their conversation, mostly from the one on the right who spoke rather too loudly and too much. He determined that the lady on the left, who was more soft-spoken, was visiting from out-of-state. She seemed about his age. There was something about a young man, possibly her son. Something was all wrong. He was in love with the wrong girl, perhaps. He saw a tear roll down her cheek, and heard the words “lonely”, and “Joe”, and, “ intense personal relationship”, and “ he loves so deeply”.

 “Looks like I’m not the only one thinking about love today,” he thought.

 The worship songs were fervent and meaningful. The message by Pastor DeWayne wasn’t about love, as he had expected, but was about rescue and redemption, which, when he thought about it, had a lot to do with love. The end of the service was coming too quickly for him.“Now it’s time to stand and form groups of three or more to pray for each other,” said the pastor. Since Dave was part of the church’s prayer team, he knew what to do. There was no-one close except for the two ladies in front of him, so he leaned forward and said, “How can I pray for you sisters this morning? My name is Dave. Do you have any prayer needs? I, personally have some back pain I could use some intercession for, but mostly I have praises.”

 “Oh, I have some arther-itis in my fingers that’s been botherin’ me,” stated the one on the right, the louder and shorter of the two, “I’m Betty and this is Sarah. She’s from Texas, ya know,” she inserted, before the taller, more reserved woman could respond. “Pleased to meet you,” everyone said at once.

 “Let’s join hands, if that’s all right, and form a circle. You know Jesus said that wherever two or three or more gather in His name, He will be there in their midst.” They did, and Dave poured himself into praying for Betty’s fingers, and into praises for their Lord. Betty prayed about Dave’s back, rather too long. “Amen,” Dave smiled to himself when she finished.

 “Sarah, you haven’t said much. You don’t have to be shy around here. Isn’t there something we can pray for you?”

 “Well, it’s complicated, but I think I’m okay. Thank you so much for the thought. I have mostly praises myself, like you said.”

 “No she’s not okay,” blurted Betty. “She’s all in a tizzy because she dreamed of this young man last night and she felt like she was cheatin’ on the memory of her husband, Joe. On top of that, she’s been beside herself with loneliness – jist emptiness, poor thing, since Joe passed. Could we please talk to God about that?”

 “I can relate, Sarah,” Dave said softly with compassion, “I lost my wife, Mary, too.” He felt Sarah’s discomfort. The hand he was holding began to sweat and so did his. Her hand was so soft……. . What Betty had said began to sink in.

 “I told you all that in confidence, Betty,” she said calmly, “But you missed the point. God used that dream to show me His immense love for me, and I’m at peace now. She looked at her hand in Dave’s. His hand was so strong…… . She began to blush. Dave looked at her face. She was downright pretty! That smile looked very familiar. His face began to flush.

“Uhhhh, what’s goin’ on here,” Betty demanded.

Dave noticed that he had dropped Betty’s hand and that he was holding Sarah’s in both of his.

 What was going on? Dave’s eyes met Sarah’s clear blue eyes and hers met his deep browns. And in that moment they knew their new hearts.

 “Sarah, did you, by any chance, ever have a black dress with white trim?”

 Her eyes began to fill with tears. “Did you ever have an old barn?”

 “Yes, and I still have it!” they both exclaimed.

 (“Now and evermore, I have loved you both, He said.”)

 With that, an increasing knowing passed between them and they began the long fall into the Deep of one another. No, not the depths. That’s another thing. The Deep – not a place, but a state of being! It was the manifestation of His all-encompassing, all-pursuing, all-inhabiting Romance imparted from God to person and from person to person, the Deep calling to the Deep , the Deep occupying the Deep, the Deep exquisitely alive in the Deep!

 “Selfless Deep?” Dave asked, wide-eyed.

 “Yes. Wondrous Deep?”

 “That’s right. Unreserved? Unconditional?”

 “Love’s Fathomless Deep?” They both began to giggle like children.

 By now, Betty was beside herself, feeling very left out. “You two know each other, right? Or is this some kind of coincidence? You’re speakin’ your own language. Please, give me a clue.”

 “More like a Godincidence, Betty,” quipped Dave without ever taking his gaze from Sarah’s eyes.

 “My friend, we have a lot to explain. We will fix your befuddlement,” said Sarah warmly. “I met Dave last night in my – our – miraculous dream, then in person just now. We knew each other – know each other. It’s hard to explain but we have been given something, and have been shown something very special that is going to knock your socks off! First we will tell you all about it, then we will tell the whole world. Spreading the message of His universal love for His people is the mission He is calling us into as we speak. It’s as though He is outfitting us with everything we need for a long journey. He is strengthening our connection with each passing second.”

 (“Your commission is set, He said”)

 “That’s the truth, my dear. Let me take you both to lunch and we will fill you in, Betty,” Dave proposed, never letting go of Sarah’s hand. “Sister, God’s love for each of us is so much, well, more than we ever thought, or knew. You’re not going to believe the way God loves you, and He’s telling us that we could use your personal testimony as an eye witness to our miracle as we travel, if you are feeling the strong pull of the Holy Spirit in that direction.”

 “If only you knew,” now Betty’s emotions were rising. “I’ve been needin’ something myself. Been feelin’ restless, and I’ve been havin’ thoughts and dreams and ideas about goin’ out and tellin’ the good news of Jesus. I never much thought I would be a good evangelist, but the good Lord has been preparin’ me in little ways that I didn’t much notice until now. I had a feelin’ He would send somebody to me sooner or later. That’s the way He works. He sends jist the right person at jist the right time. His timing is always good. I was kinda hopin’ for Him to send a sister………..or a man……………but, anyway, I cain’t wait to hear what He revealed to you two. I love to hear personal testimonies and you must have a doozie! I love to tell mine too. It’s jist little and simple, but there is great power even in a little story about Him. Yep, I think the fields are white for the pickin’ and I’m ready to go, I’m ready to learn and grow and give my life to Kingdom work! Oh! Praise the Lord, I’m so blessed! Yes! I’m up for lunch and I cain’t hardly wait to learn from you two. This is my calling, I jist know it! You’re not gonna believe how much I like to talk. Prolly too much! Oh, my heavens, I’m doin’ it again aren’t I? Hahahaha!”

 Dave and Sarah smiled intently as they heard every word Betty said, hearts beating wildly, hand in hand, and all the while immersed in the rich, deep, love inside each-other’s eyes.

It’s something like this……

Copyright © by Lenn Snider 5-3-2012

All Rights Reserved

Pecans and Promises

The time is full.

The pecans are ripe,

Opening like fingers

Full of promises kept.

They fall

From rattled branch,

Into my thankful, cupped,

Receiving hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHICH DO YOU LIKE BETTER,  THE ABOVE VERSION

OR THIS ONE?   :

~~~~~~~~~~

The time is full.

Pecans once more are ripe,

Opening like fingers

Full of promises kept.

Gracefully given,

Gladly released.

The work of care-skilled hands,

They fall from rattled branch,

Into my thankful, cupped,

Receiving hands.

Image

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