Archive | February 2016


The pick-up truck pulled in beside the bins, just another vehicle in a long line. An elderly gentleman and his wife got out of the truck, walked to the back and started taking boxes out. There were sheets, dinnerware, comforter sets, crib sets, canned goods and health products. They filled one of the bins completely full, got back into the truck and pulled off. They had smiled and nodded at the workers, but made no show of their generosity.

The large group of college students jumped out of the bus, tools in hand or tool kit, gloves and boots on, ready to work in one of the more damaged areas. They started cleaning, hammering, fixing–anything that needed to be done. At lunch they stopped for a short break, ate their packed lunches, and went back to work. Some of the students circulated among the householders, trying to find out if there were immediate needs that required priority. They weren’t pushy, obnoxious or arrogant; they were just a large group of students helping out in a neighborhood full of needs, to the best of their ability.

A group of teenage girls came from a local youth group, cases of crayons, books, puzzles and more, ready to entertain children, calming them while their parents needed to get their lives re-arranged after a tornado. The girls were sweet, caring, and helpful with the children. They had come to do a job in loving their neighbors, and were doing it the best way they knew how.

This community is like thousands of others around the nation. People who have had their lives completely blindsided, being helped by other people whose only motive is to make things easier for those suffering during a time of disaster.

The humanitarian organization was there, handing out water, blankets, food, and other essentials. They, too, were serving. They, too, were motivated by concern and love.


You look around at the lives interacting, and see the services offered in love, see those who need love at the moment, need comfort, encouragement and physical needs met, and you have to ask–where did these people come from, the ones who are helping? They’re not military, nor paid workers–just ordinary folks like you and me, alert to a time of tragedy and how they can help. It’s love in action.

At a time in America when Christians are taking the flack for everything from reading their Bible in public to having their social media censored, these people aren’t letting it bother them. One looks at them, not trained, but helping without being asked. You look beyond where the vehicles are parked and see van after van, a bus here or there, all with church logos on them. All putting their faith into action.

Did they stop and ask those who need help if they are worthy? Certainly not! Did they bring up anyone’s lifestyle, their hobbies, their language, their race, their looks? Certainly not. These people did nothing to deserve the help, material items or love brought to them: they received it because they are made in God’s image, and the church is to love them. To show love such as Jesus would show. To perhaps cause one of them to question, “I thought Christians were hypocrites, were judgmental, and arrogant because they say their sins are forgiven! But you aren’t acting like that. Can you tell me why?”

If they, as ordinary human beings, can serve and love their fellow neighbors like that, without asking “are you worthy for us to help you,” how much more does the God in heaven love them. He doesn’t judge them by their past or their present, either. If they decide they want to believe that He is the Son of God, turn from their sins, and follow Him, every sin they have ever committed is instantly forgiven! A debtor whose debts are paid, and a bill marked “Paid In Full” hand-delivered by Christ to them.

For those of us who have loved Him for years, we have found Him faithful. He has never left us, never moved away–through the hurts from the world, through the evils that have occurred because the world truly is full of evil, through the bad times and good. He has carried us, held our hands, snuggled us closely while we wept, and carried our burdens. Is life always easy? Absolutely not. But the advantages of being a follower of Jesus Christ–and having a relationship with Him–is so overwhelmingly in our favor that it’s hard to understand someone rejecting Him. He is good, He is faithful, even when we are not. How much more can you ask?

Don’t get your eyes on people who fail you, for there will always be those, both inside and outside of a church building. Get your eyes on Jesus, knowing He will love you through it all. But He’s not a Genie to be used only when you need a favor–He’s the holy creator of the universe, the One Who spoke the world into existence. He has plans and a purpose for you, if you’ll trust Him enough to take His hand. Just do it.


© Angela Farley | Dreamstime Stock Photos



The clock said it was a little past 2:30 p.m. Almost time for the grandchildren to get out of school, but it was really getting overcast. I hate to have them out in a storm anytime, even just running for their daddy’s car. The weather was acting crazy, and yet the forecast had been for storms along the coastal area, several hours to the east of us. Still… The wind began picking up, and soon the rain started. I looked at the clock again, 3:15. The kids would be safe in the car–or maybe running for it. Why didn’t I think to turn on the radio? Because it’s not a normal part of my day, that’s why. I went back to work at the computer just in time to hear a storm take over. Wow! Water gushing, wind howling.. but I still didn’t connect the dots. 

It wasn’t long before emails started coming through: Route 460 closed. Tornadoes in Appomattox, Concord, Red House. Destruction everywhere. Power out. The feeling of reality didn’t hit, because we had been on the storm’s edge. I couldn’t put pictures with what I was hearing. In a little while a pastor-friend called; he had heard we had a generator, he had his grandchildren, and no power. Come and get it! He did. We wished we had had a hundred to give out.

Today, in the aftermath of twenty-four hours ago, the destruction is like any place where a tornado has left devastation and destruction in its wake. Homes demolished, cars wrecked, trees down–only if you’ve been in one, or been through an area immediately following a tornado can you picture what the reality looks like. But what a picture it is!

Do the homeowners have to worry, while they are adjusting to their lives being turned upside down, that thieves will come in and vandalize their homes? Probably. This is today’s world. Riding by, you feel the helplessness and lack of control to “fix” everything. But then… you start seeing with eyes that are really open, not just topical observation at the mass destruction. You begin looking more closely. Look! Those people had … and you find yourself looking deeply at the inner lives of those who lived in some of the homes. Things they would not have exposed to the world in a normal time. Things that would embarrass them, or cause them to be ashamed. Oh, not all, of course! Just “some.” But to those people, it was the baring of their souls—this showing to the world what was inside their home, which they could keep hidden on any given day. Now it was exposed for all to see because some part of their exterior had been torn away.

And yet… does it take a rocket scientist to realize that, with God, all of our lives are like that? We are thinking we have the outside looking great: we’re dressed right, our hair is in place, nice shoes, nice car. We go to church or meet together, and are we glad they can’t see our thought life, our inner heart, our motives? But what if some of that exterior were stripped away and suddenly everyone could see those thoughts, those motives? Would they know some may covet their money? Or their car? Or perhaps her figure? Or their power? Or fame? Does “so and so” pick up that they are barely tolerated, wishing they’d move? What happens behind those closed doors of the outside shell?

Yet, just as the world could now ride by those homes and see right into them, so God looks right into the closets and crevices of our lives, and nothing is hidden from Him. Yet so many go through life acting as though everything is private, and no one knows anything. He is the only One who matters–He will be judging everyone eventually, whether anyone wants to believe it or not. There is nothing in our dirty, wind-blown, tornado-ridden heart that He does not see and know intimately.

How ashamed we should feel, right? He loves us so much, and wants, as He said, to “gather us as a mama hen wants to gather her little chicks, but [we] would not.” Like our parents wanted to do but it embarrassed us. Ahh, we need to confess every sinful act, every sinful thought, and anything that would hurt our relationship with Him, and run into His arms, asking Him to be Lord of our life. Let Him be the Father He has promised to be. Let Him be our Guide and Shepherd and Savior.

In the joy of that type of relationship, we won’t have anything to be ashamed of when our lives are opened before Him.



Supper was explosive. Pinto beans dripped from the ceiling in big blobs onto the ceramic tile floor. They slid in congregation down the cabinet doors, and sizzled on the kitchen light fixture. They flooded the range hood, clogged the motor and it ground to a halt. Somewhere–maybe on the other side of the kitchen–the pressure cooker lid was resting, and who knew where the little gizmo that regulates the pressure was? Hiding out behind the frig, probably. Silence reigned except for the “drip, drip, drip” of slushy beans.

Two ashen-faced twin boys stood with eyes as big as saucers, waiting for Dad’s reaction. They needed an indication of the direction his emotions were going to go. Five-year old Wendy, living her life in a wheelchair, sat in shock watching her eight-year old brothers. No one moved.

Rotund Bob M. surveyed the scene, wishing he had looked at the pressure cooker directions. In one twinkling second he realized his wife had given him the special unction of watching their three precious children while she went on a ladies’ retreat for the weekend. He wasn’t young and immature; she trusted him with her heart, with her children, and with her home. What if she walked in now?

Supper was to have been pinto beans, green onions, corn bread, and macaroni and cheese. Dessert was a store-bought chocolate cake. Bob looked at the disaster. How can one bag of beans cover a beautiful kitchen? In two seconds flat it had turned the trendy appliances, the granite counter-tops, the glass-front cabinets and ceramic tile into a cleaning service’s nightmare. And he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Laughter came out in great waves, tears rolling down his cheeks. The slap-stick comedy of the whole scene was too much. The children, in relief, were allowed to let go with the belly laughs they, too, had been holding back.

Bob always swore for the next eight years they found beans in strange places.

This experience has been one of the memories I love the most. Not because it was the funniest thing that ever happened, but because it had so many lessons for me, and the way it was handled. We have an instant choice we can make in the midst of a gigantic, colossal, accident that will be remembered by our children for the rest of their lives. I guarantee if you saw Pete, Gil, or Wendy today, the pinto bean supper would be a memory they cherish–and their father laughing hysterically, rather than cursing.

Bob died not too many years after that. Yet the laughter he always shared was felt by friends, family, co-w0rkers and church. In the midst of heavy emotions we carry daily, like the state of our country, the deconomy (doesn’t “de- mean going downhill? Like de-scend, de-feat?) of the nation, the lack of values, the political rivalry that transcends the country’s needs being replaced with the candidate who can sling mud the longest distance, we need things that make good memories. We need to laugh, to enjoy funny experiences that will outweigh the heaviness of life. Old Johnny Appleseed knew “an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” but King Solomon knew “laughter does good, like a medicine.” Everyone is on medicine. Maybe everyone just needs a good memory to make them laugh once a day.

Someone recently told the story of being in NYC, and leaving her suitcase on the back of the cab’s trunk, accidentally. It blew off, broke open, and her “unmentionables” went blowing in the wind. The cab driver…..


© Light Habersetzer | Dreamstime Stock Photos