Angela Beach Silverthorne's Blog, page 8

Why Did Jesus Fold The Napkin?

The Gospel of John (20:7) tells us that the napkin, which was placed over the face of Jesus, was not just thrown aside like the grave clothes. The Bible takes an entire verse to tell us that the napkin was neatly folded, and was placed at the head of that stony coffin.
Early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance. She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved.
She said, “They have taken the Lord’s body out of the tomb, and I don’t know where they have put him!”
Peter and the other disciple ran to the tomb to see. The other disciple outran Peter and got there first. They stooped, looked in and saw the linen cloth lying there, but did not go in.Then Simon Peter arrived and went inside. He also noticed the linen wrappings laying there, while the cloth that had covered Jesus’ head was folded up and lying to the side.
Was that important? Absolutely! Is it really significant? Yes!
In order to understand the significance of the folded napkin, you have to understand a little about Hebrew tradition of that day. The folded napkin had to do with the Master and the Servant, and every Jewish boy knew this tradition.
When the servant set the dinner table for the master, he made sure that it was exactly the way the master wanted it. The table was furnished perfectly and then the servant would wait, just out of sight, until the master had finished eating. The servant would not dare touch that table until the master was finished.
Now if the master were done eating, he would rise from the table, wipe his fingers, his mouth, clean his beard, and then he would wad that napkin and toss it onto the table. The servant would then know to clear the table. For in those days, the wadded napkin meant, “I’m done.”
But if the master got up from the table, folded the napkin, and laid it beside his plate, the servant would not dare touch the table, because . . . the folded napkin meant, “I’m coming back!”
**** I loved this so much I wanted to share it with you. The tomb is empty, but Jesus is coming back! 
Praise God!Happy Easter! 



(Why did Jesus fold the napkin? author unknown)

A Spiritual Immune System

We all know what it’s like to have a strong immune system. You rarely get a cold or the flu. If you do, its life is cut short because your natural defense, the immune system, takes care of it. It’s the rapid responder for your body.
Most of our life, if we’re healthy, we really don’t think too much of the giant immune machine that keeps us healthy. From our skin to organs that produce enzymes and blood vessels, we are protected.But when we do get sick from a virus or bacterial infection and our immune or defense system is weak, we know immediately that we need help. Most of the time we have to go to the doctor and then on to the pharmacy to get medication. If your immune system is very weak, your whole body comes under attack which weakens you even further in all areas of life – emotional, physical, and cognitive.
During the holy season of Lent, I try to do something to take my faith deeper. This year, I decided to evaluate and work on my spiritual immune system. I had been running in overtime for several months. Never getting ahead. Always staying behind. And two days into Lent a situation occurred that tried me further. I was caught in the middle of two groups that were at odds. As both groups hit me up with their complaint of the other one, I almost let my emotions get out of hand. The operative word is almost.
Before any damage could be done, I remembered my Lent promise to work on my spiritual immune system. I could tell my normal easy going nature had frayed. Now it was threatening to break. So before approaching either group with a solution or a termination, I went to the Lord in prayer. I truly felt God had me in this position for a purpose.
God brought me straight to Galations 6:9.

Let us not grow weary in doing good. Do not lose heart.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow. I felt an immediate release- a type of peace solvent that spread throughout my body. I continued to meditate over this verse and truly felt it was telling me to approach the situation quietly, faithfully, and optimistically. I needed to listen to each complaint with love and not fall victim to the temptation to get frustrated and say something I might regret in the future.
Dr. David Jeremiah once said, “Nothing tests the integrity of our faith like our response to temptation.”
I regret that I was tempted to react in a less than fruitful way. Had my immune system been healthier, I hope I would have done the right thing immediately. But my immune system had been tortured for weeks. When that happened, I was also taxing my time with God. Communing with Him is what slows the heartbeat down and re-centers my life. At the point of a break, I realized I had not been putting on my armor daily and honing up on my defenses against temptation.
It’s amazing how God can allow you to turn back to your old ways just to show you there is no way without Him. My journey through Lent has proven invaluable. I have set new priorities to build up my body and spiritual immune system.
Those priorities have been to start each day with deliberate and determined time with God. To worship Him. To fellowship with Him. I’ve taken my ministries to God to see if this is where He needs me to be in this season of my life. I’ve walked outside daily, sometimes several times a day and listened to creation singing. I have captured words from scripture and feasted on them all day long. I have resisted stress. I’ve slept more. I’m taking vitamins rather than buying them to fill my cabinets. I’m drinking more water. I’m laughing more. I’m doing more of the things I should be doing and less of the things that I should not be doing.
God gave us a marvelous gift in our well designed body. To keep it in top running condition, we need to keep it fueled with food and healthy life choices. As followers of Christ, we’ve been gifted with a spiritual immune system. In order for us to keep it at peak performance, we often need to pull away from life’s stressors and re-center our lives in God’s teachings, His Word.
Has this season of your life been stressful? Have you turned to God to get help in reevaluating your priorities in life?
Trust me. It might be the most important thing you do for yourself.
Blessings,

Footprints In The Sand: Her Story

This is a totally different post for me, but it’s one God placed on my heart. Over several weeks, I kept feeling the need to revisit the poem “Footprints in the Sand.” My schedule has been so hectic that I continued to push it off. Well, my schedule got completely wiped out after a surgery, and one morning I woke up and this poured out. I hope God knows who needs to read this. I pray I honored Him by writing it. ~ God’s blessings to you, Angela

Daunting dreams plagued my sleep. I was at my wits end. The last night it happened, I got up, slipped on my robe, and went out to sit on the porch. I could hear the waves lapping at the shoreline. The stars were in abundance, shining so brightly I felt I could see forever. I heard a dog barking in the distance. The treble behind the bark sounded irritated and lonely. I understood.
Over the last few years my foundational roots had been shaken. My husband announced he needed some space. Needed to think about where his life was going. What he was really trying to say was he didn’t want me. I got it, but it still hurt. That was three years ago. After a year of watching him disappear from my life, I was given a hefty settlement, bought a small bungalow on the beach, and sulked.
The first six months I walked the beach daily, sometimes two or three times a day. I tried not to think about where life was going or what I was going to do with the rest of mine. When I wasn’t walking, I was lying on the couch doing nothing but staring at the ceiling. There are five cracks up there. I’ve named them all. Anger. Insult. Fear. Loss. Brokenness. It doesn’t help that they don’t talk back to me. It makes me feel inconsequential like the sixth crack that’s just surfaced near the kitchen.
When I got the call that mother was dying, I told my brother I’d come home. On day three I packed a small bag and left. The drive was excruciating. Our last visit had been wonderful, too wonderful. She kept telling all the things I wish I felt; wish my husband had told me. I knew she meant it, but it didn’t heal what had grown inside me, killing me like cancer was killing her.
At the funeral, I sat with my brother and his family. My son called the morning of the funeral with bold excuses of his corporate life on steroids. Not one word about his grandmother. Not even a second to ask about his mother. His last comment was “stay strong”. Ass.
All of this and more . . . one disappointment after another kept ravaging me. I lost focus of the gorgeous sky, the soothing rhythm of the waves, and the wind gently ruffling my hair. I was steeped in a cesspool and didn’t want out.
When the sun crested over the horizon spreading orange stripes across a purple-gray mass, I got up and began my morning walk. In the wee hours of the morning I had searched to find a reason to exist, to move forward. I found none. Looking out across the expanse of sand, I watched life scurrying around with purpose. I dropped my head and noticed one set of footprints.
I stopped to examine them, seeing them stretch out as far as the eye could see. When I looked backed down I slipped my foot into the nearest impression. It slid in as if it were the perfect glass slipper. So I kept walking, burying my feet into each footprint. The stride was perfect, almost as if I had walked this earlier.
As I progressed forward the steps grew deeper, more mired down. I felt tension rising, realizing this was my life spread out before me. Alone. Abandoned. Forsaken. My heart throbbed, and I began to cry. Tears flowed freely. By now I could barely lift my feet out of the sand. Each depression came halfway up my calf.
Exhausted I sank to my knees, drawing my torso down, head to knee, and closed my eyes. A natural rocking motion began. An image of Mama surfaced. She was pulling me into her lap, wrapping her arms around my fifteen year old body, and humming. Mama always hummed when she felt words would fall flat. So I began to hum and rock and hum and rock, keeping Mama’s face held tightly behind closed lids.
The wind began to pick up, disrupting my rocking as it tossed me side-to-side, and blurring Mama’s image as my eyes flew open. The waves were pounding the surf. The skies had deepened into angry black thunder clouds. Out of fear, I ran, trying to keep my feet within the footprints, but they were filling in and disappearing. Lightning coursed the sky. Thunder shook the earth. Rain pelted, stinging as it hit exposed skin.
Throwing my hand to my forehead to shield my eyes, I tried to look ahead for some type of protection. That’s when I noticed that all the footprints were gone. Nothing was in sight. I turned toward the expanse of anger rupturing the sky and screamed, “Where are You?” I pounded my feet until they became encased in sand-mire. I was pinned, looking out at creation mimicking my storm, my brokenness.
I raised my fist toward the crackling, fiery sky, “Where are You? You said you’d never leave me. You’re no better than anyone else in my life. You’ve abandoned me, too.”
The wind whirled around me but I dug in, shaking my fist over and over again in open defiance. I beat at the wind, and the wind beat back. I felt I was in the fight for my life. Every pent up despair, disappointment, and discouragement flew out of my mouth, even things I had long forgotten. I battled the storm harder, struggling to keep my balance until my arms finally dropped, numb from exertion. That’s when I noticed the large wave in front of me rising higher and higher, aimed for a direct hit.
Right before impact, I lowered my head, squeezed my eyes shut, and whispered, “Save me, Lord. I need You.”
A soothing mist lit on my skin, fingertips of cooling moisture. The wind ceased its turbulence, and the sun’s rays warmed my back. The earth had silenced and stilled.
Keeping my eyes closed, I lifted my head to embrace the warmth, letting it seep deep into my soul. I inhaled, expanding my chest, letting the heady fragrance of salt spray and sea life linger before opening my eyes. And there they were . . . footprints. Not one set, but two.
God had never left me. Never abandoned me. He was there through all the broken mess of life. As I gazed upward, I saw a rainbow stretching across the horizon. God’s promise. I felt the stirrings of renewal and rebirth. I’d left so much behind thinking I wasn’t worthy and couldn’t cope. I remembered all the cards, letters, phone calls, texts, and emails. I had answered none of them; and yet, they still came.
Hope. I felt it streaming inside me like a living being filling me up. “Thank you, Lord for never leaving me when I walked away. Strengthen me as I walk back into life. Speak courage and love over me until I believe it again. In You I will finally find wholeness.”
I ran home. I couldn’t wait to open the door to a new life, knowing who I am is not who I was, but who I will be in Christ.

Disruptive Moments?!?!

Disruptive moments
I think we all have them. Most of us find them annoying. Nothing good can come from the disorder or turmoil of having a planned schedule foiled. Right? 
That was my thinking on day two after surgery; staring at my calendar, knowing all my good intentions and planning were for naught. I had not planned well. My calendar was packed – appointments, teaching schedules, meeting with friends, writing assignments, social media updates, keeping in touch with family, and doing all those mundane, everyday chores. 
Well, halfway through day two, and out of total desperation, I picked up my Bible. It fell open to Jeremiah 29, and my eyes automatically went to the highlighted verse 11.
 “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.”
I read and reread this many times, soaking in the words, marinating in the promises. Yes, I was going to be down for several days. My schedule would have to be erased and events penciled in for a later time. But what I realized was I had an opportunity to get re-centered. So while my body was healing from the surgery, I had the opportunity to create some precious moments with Jesus to refuel my soul. It was like an “aha” moment. That’s when I remembered Margaret Feinberg’s method of fighting back unsettling times with God’s light of joy.


Margaret is a wonderful teacher on recapturing God’s blessings when everything seems dark and out of control. You have to purpose yourself to poke holes in the dark and let in the light to fight back Satan’s darts of discontent, worry, and angst. It’s recovery time, not worry time. 
I’m on day nine. I’m still healing, physically and spiritually. It’s been a tremendous recovery on the spiritual realm. So here I am, praising God for disruptive moments, days, and more. I’ve enjoyed letting go and saturating in God’s love. What a wonderful, restorative choice to let God fill in all the desperate corners with Himself.  


Praying that you’ll sense God’s overflowing goodness toward you as you rest in His care.
Blessings,

Praying: Standing Strong In Adversity

This morning began like any other morning. I stumbled out of bed and headed for the coffee pot. And as I do every morning, I picked up my cellphone to send a love message to the grandchildren before they headed off to school. Before I could finish my task, a drop down menu on my phone caught my eye, “Pinterest comment to your post.” I finished my last little text and went over to email. I opened it and saw this note:
“Ever noticed how praying does absolutely nothing”
Chills went up and down my arms. I felt, a presence of loss, a loss of hope. My next response was to wonder what pin I had posted that would illicit such a response. Here’s the pin.



What if we all prayed for America? Why would this incite someone to post that kind of comment? What did they hope to gain from it?
After checking out the pin, I realized it had been posted several months ago on my board “Pray for America.” A cold chill ran up my back. It was happening again. Those same feelings I had that pushed me to write my last book, Cries of Innocence . That was more about the presence of evil. This one felt more like a loss of hope. But I couldn’t keep my chest from aching.
I regret that I went back to the comment post and tapped on the name of the sender which opened up their Pinterest account. As soon as it opened up, I understood why I had been troubled. The page was filled with horrible apocalyptic pictures, depicting evil warriors in the middle of mass destruction and total annihilation. Evil . . . where there is no hope.
I immediately shut down the page.
“Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers…” Psalm 1:1
I went around for hours praying over the person. I could have sent back an innocuous line like, “Prayer is my lifeline.” But you know what, I think, after looking at the horror on their Pinterest page that anything I could have said would have only provoked retaliation.
I must recognize that Satan is on the prowl. He is the master at creating havoc, instilling fear in the weak, especially God’s people. A lot of older women, like myself, would have seen the evil on that person’s Pinterest page and run for the hills in fear. Not me.
Mark 9:29  And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.”
That’s what spiritual warfare is. God’s Word says we are more than overcomers through Christ that lives within us.
Prayer honors God. And in turn, God honors His children. Even when we give up on God, God never gives up on us; not even the person who sent the comment and was driven to post horrific pins on their Pinterest sight.
Prayer is a shield to the soul, a sacrifice to God, and a scourge for Satan. ~ John Bunyan
Prayer – secret, fervent, believing prayer – lies at the root of all personal godliness.  ~ Williams Carey
Prayer is the key to Heaven,But faith unlocks the door. ~Anonymous
I am praying for this person. I know the power of prayer, speaking God’s Word over this individual. I’ve been the recipient of prayer many times. I know there is evil in this world; I am not naïve. As a spiritual warrior, I know how to battle this kind of foe.


“Stand firm! Put on the belt of truth and buckle it around your waist to counter a culture of lies.
Attach the breastplate of righteousness in place,
and with your feet fitted with readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.
Then pick up your shield of faith to extinguish the flaming arrows the evil one will hurl at you.
Don’t forget your helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit which is the Mighty Word of God.” (paraphrased from Ephesians 6)
And pray fervently, storm Heaven with requests, and wrestle to bring forth prayers from the Throne Room.
If we are quiet in how we feel about Jesus, our faith, and our country, we are handing it all over to the enemy on a silver platter.

Power up with prayer! God be with you,

Conviction of Faith

I’ve been praying over this passage for two weeks. Every word hammered me, testing every facet of who I am. I’m questioning. I’m playing rhetorical-scenario-mind-games with myself.
What does it mean to truly believe in anything?What does conviction truly mean?What does it mean to “truly believe” in Jesus?What is conviction of faith?
Conviction is a firm belief. Belief is a conviction in the truth. Truth is a verifiable indisputable fact. Faith is the belief and loyalty in God. Do you see how conviction, belief, truth, and faith are intertwined?
Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6
I don’t see any loopholes here. The I AM said, “I AM the truth.”
But our society has made it easy and accommodating to vacillate between truth, half-truth, and no-truth to the point that I wonder if anyone truly knows the truth. The world sells sweet tonic-talk with false messages and promises. The culture pushes hard against believers, mixing faith based words of love to sugarcoat a multitude of offenses. There seems to be no moral truths. This dilemma has caused a rift within us. Truth is the force that stabilizes and centers us. It keeps us focused.
When we begin to doubt, we sway, not knowing right from wrong or east from west. And it affects everything about us. Our emotions. Our physical health. Our mental wholeness. Our self-worth. It feels as if we are a yoyo, going up and down in our convictions with no time to process their implications.
Do you remember the movie, A Few Good Men , and the scene where Colonel Jessep (Jack Nicholson) shouted:

That’s what mainstream culture wants us to think. You can’t handle the truth; so, how about I tell you what it is. The problem is their truth is coming at us from all directions and changing as quickly as it’s delivered. Without a strong conviction of the truth, these words uproot us, begging us to wonder if we can handle the truth.
What Jessep handed the young lawyer was the truth to many-“I don’t want  to handle the truth”. Being duped seems to be the new norm. It’s easier to let others think for you and decide what truth and conviction and faith and belief actually are. Maybe it’s easier to live in a preconceived world-bubble in order to keep life neat and orderly because the truth, the real truth, might be more than they can handle.
There’s a little tucked away verse that is appropriate here.
                        “Later, a great many people from the Gerasene countryside got together                        and asked Jesus to leave – too much change, too fast, and they were                        scared.” Luke 8:37 (MSG)
Scared? Some translations use the word “fear” Is it fear that draws us away from the truth? Fear of reprisal, maybe persecution. Because that’s what the Bible says, “In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.” (2 Timothy 3:12)
Truth is the core of who we are. We yearn for it. Truth is the anchor and stabilizing force in our life.
I finally stopped assaulting myself over these questions.. I am a student of the Bible. Getting to know God is my passion. Maybe my question is not if I can handle the truth, but do I know the Truth. That’s the only way I am going to be able to discern the real thing from a falsehood. If I don’t know God’s Word, then those half-truths circulating will begin to etch away at my conviction of belief. My faith.
It takes courage to stand firm on who God is and who God says we are. And to stand firm is what conviction means. If your conviction is not solid, you will be like chaff that blows away in the wind. You will be vulnerable to the distortion of the truth and Satanic attacks. My husband always says, “You’d better stand firm on your beliefs or you’ll fall for anything!” He’s got that right!
There are so many great men in the Bible who resolved not to defile themselves, like Daniel, who stood firm in his conviction to live his faith out by following God and biblical principles. These principles are found in scripture. The more you read the Bible, the more you will see God delivering blessings upon blessings upon His faithful followers.
Think about your conviction of faith.
            Do you believe God is who He says He is?            Do you believe God will do what He says He will do?            Do you believe you are who God says you are?
What does the Bible say about these things? Take these treasures to heart. Stand firm. We are in a spiritual battle. Be ready and be prepared. Stand tall in the face of temptation and compromise. Keep God’s Word at the forefront of your being.



To God be all glory!

Wounded Spirits

My heart sank as I read a post on FB from a teen I know. The words she wrote were clear, poignant, and upsetting. In a few words, she exclaimed that kids at school had called her horrible names, avoided or bumped into her in the hallways or teased her unmercifully. The comments her friends posted either encouraged her feelings of despondency by agreeing that life was worthless or wrote bland statements like “sorry.”
I was outraged when I read the responses, and I immediately got in touch with her mother. The child and her family meant a lot to me. I was not going to stand by and shrug my shoulders. This could send her into a spiral of depression or worse. I dreaded the call, but as soon as I began talking the mother shut me down politely, stating she saw the email and was all over it. That’s my kind of mom.
A few days later, my granddaughter who is almost 15-years-old sent out a FB “share” on the topic of bullying. I was so proud of her and immediately shared the post, hoping people would also share it with their friends.
Two weeks later, a teen in my area committed suicide. Rumor spread that it was from incessant bullying at school and on social media. The incident left me feeling numb. If it was bullying, I kept wondering if the teen had suffered in silence or spoke and no one had listened. This line of thinking can weigh heavy on your heart.
Pacer Center writes, “One out of every 4 students report being bullied during a school year. Sixty-four percent of children who were bullied did not report it, only 36% reported the bullying.” (www.bullyingstatistics.org)
The statistics on bullying and suicide are alarming. Bully victims are between 2 to 9 times more likely to consider suicide than non-victims, according to studies by Yale University.Focus on the Family, a Christian based organization, has an extensive article on bullying. It is packed with information that will help you or someone you know to deal with this societal crisis. Please check it out on:            http://www.focusonthefamily.com/parenting/schooling/bullying/the-wounded-spirit
Knowledge and detection of bullying could save a child from harassment. It could save a life.Bullying is offensive. It is an act of hatred. Bullying has created new words that cause my soul to bristle in disbelief. Bullycide (term used when someone being bullied commits suicide) and cyberbullying (FB and social media threats and condemnations) are just two. It’s wrong and has to be understood that it is a violent act and has to be stopped.


Now I have to confess the other tragedy of bullying. It doesn’t just happen to children, it happens to adults, too. Yes, adults.
I happened to share this story with a group of women I’m friends with. While the majority said people made too much of the subject and it was a child thing, two women in our group dropped their head and pulled their hands into their laps. Noticing this, I asked the more outspoken one what she thought about the subject. Taking a deep breath before speaking, she admitted she had been bullied at her workplace. She said she put up with it for 2 years before leaving the job and taking a lower paying one.
The second lady, who had been listening intently, spoke up saying she too had been bullied as an adult. This time by a sister-in-law who began spreading hurtful things about her at church. It got so stressful and upsetting that she and her husband left their home church and joined another one out of town. Neither of these ladies knew the other’s story, but as they began to talk about the effects of biting comments and tacky maneuvers, you could see them begin to heal. At the end of the meeting, we all prayed for them to lay their burden at the foot of the Cross and allow the power of Jesus Christ to heal their wounded spirits.
One thing we have to emphasize to the victim of bullying is that they are never alone. Kari Jobe has a beautiful song out called “I Am Not Alone.” What a comfort to know we have a Mighty God who is with us always. Please check out Kari’s song at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfveawSAHJA


Let me add that scripture is imperative. It wraps its tentacles of love around a child or adult who have dealt with the hurt of bullying. Saying scripture over a situation can diminish its effects.
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 31:6
Pray for the victims of bullying and the ones who bully. Both are in desperate need. Prepare yourself with knowledge, so you can give sound advice and assistance when needed. Don’t stand by and delude yourself that this is merely a child experience or that it’s not ruthless in its effect.

God bless you!

You've Gotta Be Kidding Me!

This pose is called savasana. I call it “thank you, Jesus” pose. I’ve been taking yoga for 3 years. Don’t get any ideas. I can barely reach my toes and pray for the end of class when I can go into my “thank you, Jesus” pose and begin praying. I can do this pose real well.
When I enter a yoga classroom, I always place my mat toward the back of the room and away from the mirror. Who wants to look at themselves in that enormous monstrosity and possibly crack an 8 x 4 foot glass? Not me. So I hide in the back and dare not look into the mirror. Does anyone remember the movie “Candy Man”? Enough said.
The beginning of class is easy. We stretch our arms skyward, desperately trying to keep our feet flat on the floor. But let me warn you in advance, don’t go too fast with this maneuver or the flab on the back of your arms will try to curl up and slap your bicep until it’s a crisp red. Trust me, it’s not a pretty site. Not at all.
When the instructor says to get into warrior pose, I almost cringe. Have you seen a warrior pose? Forget that idea. Let me just say that no one in the class looks like Russell Crowe from the movie “Gladiator”. No one. At our age, there are no bare chested men or women with tight fitted, sleeveless tops. All of us don shirts down past our buttocks.  We show nothing. So get this image in your head, if possible. A warrior pose must be unique to the individual because the only one who does it the same way each week is the instructor. Show off! The rest of us take the whole pose-time trying to get into the proper formation. Squaring off our bodies, we try to spread our legs wide without toppling over, and once our shaking legs settle down, we spread our arms wide as if we’re about to fly. Everyone’s face looks pained. Breathing comes as a commodity. No one wants to breathe deep as prescribed and end up teetering to the floor. You don’t move, for goodness sake. All of us fear broken hips and crushed tailbones. I think the instructor understands. We watch as she scans the room, declaring we need to carefully pull out of the pose, take a few deep breaths and stand in mountain pose. That just means to stand still and don’t fall over.
Today, I must have thought I was a yoga-guru because I went to a new class with a new instructor. When you see 5 students in a yoga class, with sleeveless shirts, and already doing poses on their own, you better think twice about staying. Yoga fool that I must be, I went right to the back of the class, since the 5 were up front, and adjusted my mat. That’s when I overheard a conversation from 2 of the women. Seems they had run off a couple of students who made disgusting noises. Panic hit! These were the hardcore senior-die-hards everyone was talking about.
The class started out slow with methodical breathing, slow deliberate moves, and a heightened awareness of body limitations. Then the new instructor got bold. We were in a plank posture (what I call a push-up) when she said to keep your right hand on the floor, twist your body 180 degrees to the left, lift your left arm skyward, and hold the pose. You gotta be kidding me!
I watched all those smarty pants swing right into position. Well, some of it wasn’t perfect, but they managed to look somewhat like the gal up front showing off. So I twisted and tried to lift my left hand. Immediately my right wrist collapsed, and I would have fallen, but I quickly rotated back to plank pose, and used my left hand to stabilize my shaking limbs. Then I decided to do the posture in the opposite way. I twisted toward the right and managed to begin lifting my right hand when I lost control and fell. It was loud with several grunts as my right hip plunged to the floor.
There are no loud noises in yoga in case you didn’t know and was thinking of joining a class. You are only supposed to inhale and exhale loudly, but not disrupt the class, fall, and grunt. At this point, I looked up at the clock and realized we still had 35 minutes of class time and I’m sweating. My husband can tell you, I don’t sweat.
The next you-gotta-be-kidding-me move was to sit Indian style, fold your torso over your tucked legs, and stretch your arms as far as possible in front of you. Sounds easy? Well, for you braggarts that think this is easy, get a life! Both of my hips locked up on me just as my stomach pooch laid over my thighs, making it impossible to even touch the floor. As I was straining to lift up my body, I took a peek under my armpit and witnessed my neighbor fold over her sweet little crossed legs in a fluid motion, stretching her arms wide across the floor.
Trying not to grunt or sigh, I pushed up, struggled to a seated position, pulled my stomach back in place, and took a strained deep breath. I looked up at the clock and realized all this had only taken 2 minutes. Thirty-three minutes to go!
There were several more you-gotta-be-kidding-me moments, but I managed to twist into something that looked like my 3-year-old granddaughter doing a cartwheel and never getting out of a 90 degree bend – kinda like a quick hop from point A to point B with a weight tied around your waist. She thinks she’s doing it perfect because we clap. Maybe we should work with her more, but she’s sure cute when she smiles.
To be honest, I probably won’t go back to the elite yoga class, but I will go back to my old one where there are about 20 of us hiding all the sagging body parts and grunts are allowed. In this class when I press into a move that feels like I’m choking off part of my body, Jesus and I get real close. I internally talk to Him the whole class. Yoga has become my confessional time. More rubbish comes up from the deep, and I expunge it from my body. Me and Jesus on the mat, figuring out life, it’s grand. I’m praying the whole time, and the heavenly choir’s singing, “Hallelujah!” Like our claps for my granddaughter, I think they’re saying “good job”. And I smile.
After yoga class I limp to the car, thanking God that we got through another session. I’m not sure if it could be compared to Paul’s race to the finish line, but I am persevering. Yoga is a lesson in and of itself. It’s also another time I use to thank Jesus for all He’s given me, even the sagging parts, shaking limbs, and weak wrist.

God bless you!

Journal to Remember

Christmas is over. The squeals of little girls and a grandson is a faint memory. So I begin to clean so as not to be lonesome. On day three of washing, vacuuming, and dusting, I ran across my journals. I dusted them and stopped, dropped the duster, and opened the first page of each. The impact of the words caused me to stop. I hope you will indulge me as I share some words from each.
January 2011
Dear Father,Another year,A new journey,Now unforeseen,Only speculated,Filled with wonderNew chances, Beginnings.Excitement,And marvel Wonderful!
January 2012As I close down another year, I want to thank you, God, for your faithfulness, promises met, and prayers answered and unanswered. Your blessings are countless, and I am sure I missed thousands. Thank you for them all! Every day I wake with your name on my lips, praising You. Did You see me twirling on the deck this morning, raising my hands in worship? Yep, I knew it! And I bet you were twirling, too.
January 2013Precious Father, here I stand in a new year. Last year still feels pinned to my shoulders. Am I dragging it into a new year? All the stuff that failed and didn’t go right? If you would just reach down and clip that mess from my back, I would be grateful. But then again, if you clip it off I won’t be whole, will I? There are things I need to resolve, and here You are offering me another chance, a new year to get things right. Lord, you always amaze me. I feel Your comfort and encouragement. Yes, I know You’ve got my back. Have I told you lately that I love You?
January 2014Here we are again. You and me, Lord. I feel like I’m standing at the “start” line of a race without having trained. All around me are runners eager, excited, and ready to go. I’m a little nervous. I’m also excited and eager. Does that make sense? You’ve brought me through so much. You forced me to face tough issues and wiped my tears when I finally got it right. You’ve loved me through the fire and more. What am I whining about? You’re right here beside me. Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go!!!! 2014 is going to be the best run ever!!
January 2015 Thank you for a new year! A year stretching out before me – a surprise ready to unfold, and I’m so thrilled. I pray I don’t miss a thing. Lord, this is the year that I want You to stretch and use me. There are many who need love and care. Lead me where You would have me serve your people. Let’s make this year a great year for the Kingdom!
As I read these posts, I realized every year offers new beginnings and new challenges. My 2016 journal is brand new and completely empty. I’ve let 5 days go by without thanking God for 2015 and it was a great year!!! So that’s where I’m headed – going to my desk and pour my heart out to my precious Jesus in thanksgiving and gratitude for all He has done for me.
There is a whole year ahead of me. A new road to travel. Beyond the bends, mountains, valleys, and hills are many blessings, challenges, disappointments, gifts, love, surprises, losses, and gains. I’m going to meet new people who will touch my life in ways I cannot imagine. There’s a good chance I will have to say goodbye to a friend or loved one. But in all the questions and trepidations, I can sit back and rest. I know the Creator of the Universe, and He knows me. Couldn’t be a better combination to fight a battle or rejoice in a blessing!
Do you journal? It’s one of the most gratifying thing I’ve ever done. Would you think about starting one today? It’s never too late to begin.
God bless you!

Happy New Year: 2016!

As I close out 2015, I’d like to share Dr. David Jeremiah’s commentary on reflection and hope.
“As we stand on the cusp of a new year, we have the opportunity to pause and reflect on the past year.Although loved ones sometimes sugarcoat theirfeedback, we can find clarity in seeking God’sperspective. He measures the waters on the earth andknows every crevice of your soul. He sees and speaks truth.
If we don’t take time to do this, our years blur togetherand we miss the story God is weaving in our lives. Aswe review our year, seeking His clarity, we find growthto celebrate and missed opportunities to mourn.Reflecting on the past can strengthen us for the futureas we seek God’s vision and direction for the upcomingyear. Allow Him to lovingly lead you forward.”                                                                  (Turning Points, December 31, 2015)
“All day long have I toiled and striven; but now in the stillness of heart and in the clear light of Thine eternity, I would ponder the pattern my life has been weaving.” John Baillie
As we slip into 2016, reflect on 2015 and all its joys and disappointments. All were woven into your life – threads of growth and blessings.
Happy New Year! I’m going into it singing a new song. And as I close out 2015 in remembrance, I press onward in joy in 2016! I can’t wait to see what God has in store for me.
Blessings to you all!