Beverly Varnado's Blog, page 12

A Thousand Words

I came across this post from a few years back and thought it might serve to inspire someone who's pondering a new project.  What is your "thousand words?"
Several years ago, I heard author, actor, and artist  McNair Wilson  say “Put something into the world everyday that wasn’t there before.”

That simple piece of advice has made a difference in my life by helping me renew my efforts to daily put aside time for creativity. Writers are gifted in finding ways to avoid doing what we know we need to do, and we find ourselves doing household chores rather than planting ourselves at the computer. Even the time we spend at the computer, which should be creative time, can turn into checking email and balancing the checkbook.

I set a goal to try and write at least a thousand words a day—a thousand words that weren’t in the world yesterday—a thousand words that can add up over time to be a screenplay or a novel. So, since I began this practice, by God's grace, I’ve completed many screenplays, blog posts, and novels in addition to writing I don’t know how many articles and devotions--all inspired in some degree by McNair’s advice. He even helped me get out my paints again.



Before I go to sleep at night, I think about what I’ve put into the world that day. It may not have been much. I might think my work less than the best, and no one but God and me may have known what I even attempted. But I give him thanks that he's enabled me to aim for faithfulness in using the gifts and talents God has given me. Sometimes my "thousand words" is just five hundred words, but that's not the point. The point is to put your gifts into the world.

 I remember the words of Paul from  Colossian 3,  “Whatsoever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus…” Before I let my thousand words go, I make sure I put them in God’s hands.

What might God be calling you to put into the world today? What is your version of a "thousand words?" What creative endeavors have you been putting off until a rainy day, cheating yourself and those around you out of the joy those projects might bring?

Go ahead. Go for it. Who knows the thousand ways he might possibly use your endeavors to bless others?Share Email Post var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021

When you need to hear about a miracle, again

Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story that is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see. —C.S. Lewis.  Icame across this quote recently and was reminded of a postfrom a while back. As an update to this story, the woman referenced in this post is still doing well five years later. 

My phone dinged as we sailed down Interstate 85 near Spaghetti Junction in Atlanta.  

An eighteen-wheeler whizzed close as I clicked on my cell and read the text.

I took a deep breath before I told Jerry. “Things are not going well.” A friend’s mama underwent open-heart surgery, and though she had the best of care, the situation went south.
After many hours in the operating room, the medical staff emerged in the evening to notify the family she might not make it through the night.
The word went out, and so many friends bombarded heaven on her behalf.
The next morning when we returned from out of town, we found she had not only made it through the night, but also stabilized.
Grateful, we continued to pray, as we also counted days.
Two, three, four, five . . .
She never awakened.
Another woman down the hall passed in the night.
We mourned her life cut short. Hearts heavy.
Six, Seven . . .
On day eight, the medical staff allowed two more days before decisions had to be made regarding life support.
Tears flowed and knees bent. The time ticked down.
On Sunday morning as we rode to church, the car quiet, Jerry and I prayerful, he said, “Wouldn’t Sunday morning be a great time for her to wake? That’s what Jesus did.” I thought of Jesus transcending the bonds of death and the  words Paul wrote that we prayed the afternoon before as we stood by her beside, “. . . just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life” (Romans 6:4). That same glory, that same power resides in all those who name His name for their salvation (Romans 8:11).
Yes, Sunday morning would be a great time.
A couple of hours passed . . . another text . . . a critical time.
We flew to the intensive care unit.   
Our first sight, a family member in the hall, talking on the phone, mouthed two words to us. “She’s up.”
“She’s up?” we questioned believing, yet unbelieving.
He nodded.
We rushed into the room, her eyes fluttered, and her gaze focused on us. She half smiled.
She’s was up, all right.
Waking up.
Rising up.
Speaking up.
Getting up.
Healing up.
All because God never gives up. 
On Sunday morning, we witnessed God’s resurrection glory and power, how it cracks the grip of death and super charges a mortal body.
God is still God. Jesus is still Jesus.
If you need “up” for yourself or someone else, don’t you give up, either. No, it doesn't happen like this every time. We know this and can't explain the why, but we also know every time God is faithful.
So, friends, if you need to hear about a miracle today, well, here it is.
Glory be to God! Music for hope here, Jeremy Camp's "The Same Power."


var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021

When you need grace

Forthe past few days, a doe has been stashing her baby in various areas in ouryard while she forages. We’ve tried to be watchful with Lucy, though that big Aussiedorof ours has become less interested in deer in recent years, butshe might chase a fawn and unintentionally hurt it.

Wethought the deer had left, but before I let Lucy out while I worked in mylittle studio, I tiptoed around a couple of areas I thought the fawn might be. Itseemed clear, but as I was heading inside, I heard a high-pitched squeak and turnedto see a flash of a white tail. There was the fawn—frightened by my presence and fleeingfrom the yard.

I had disrupted it without even realizing it was there. Trying to dothe right thing to save its life, instead, I had sent it out on its own.

I hoped the doe was not too far away and would soon come checking onthe fawn so they would be reunited. I tried to not to think the word “coyote,”  and was distressed about the whole thing.

I thought of a recent Bible study I was in where we were talking about a similar though much more important situation--how others cansometimes fail us--and how we can fail them. Someone gave the example of a timewhen they unintentionally failed a friend—simply by an oversight and how badlythey felt about it. It’s happened to every one of us.

Here, my friends, is where grace comes in.

Do we deserve grace?

No, we do not.

By definition, grace is undeserved and unearned.

Even with our best intentions, we will miss the mark. And yet, God hasmade provision for our humanity. Grace is how we find the ability to move onpast our mess-ups, our shortcomings, and our failures. Grace is how we hold ourheads up rather than bow to the blame/shame game. Grace is where we find life.

Max Lucado wrote, “Grace is God’s best idea. His decision to ravage apeople by love, to rescue passionately, and to restore justly—what rivals it? Ofall his wondrous works, grace, in my estimation, is the magnum opus.”

There are many verses having to do with grace, but fromexperience, the Apostle Paul  knew muchabout grace and wrote in Ephesians 2:5,  “Forit is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not fromyourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Grace extends past our shortcomings to our gross sins and Paul knewthis as he held the coats of those who stoned Stephen and persecuted Christiansbefore his conversion. This gift of grace is ours through the work of Jesus onCalvary. He paid the price for it.

I heard someone say recently that the older they get, the more theenemy reminds them of their past failures. I experience that as well, but whenthat happens, we can also be reminded of the grace of God poured out for us.

If you are dogged by a past failure, confess, surrender, and repent of it to theLord. Then receive the grace that only He can give. 

So, with grace abounding I am praying that the Godwho knows when a sparrow falls to the ground will take care of the little fawn.I have every reason to believe He will.

 

Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021

What the Captain does

Sully, a movie depicting the story behind the 2009 landingof US Airways Flight 1549 in the Hudson River showed up on a streaming servicethis month. I’d long been aware of the heroism of Captain Chelsey “Sully”Sullenberger and what is called “the miracle on the Hudson,” but I’m a nervousflier and seeing plane emergencies on film get me going. I’m late to the table,but finally my desire to see the film outweighed my apprehension.

Idid spend a good bit of time squirming during the movie, but there were so manypowerful scenes to distract me from my flying anxiety. Much has been writtenabout the heroism of Captain Sully, the flight crew, and the rescuers, as well as how the passengers responded to the emergency. I’ll just focus on one scene.

Afterthe landing in the Hudson and passengers had deboarded onto the wings and inflatablerafts awaiting rescue, Captain Sullenberger was still on the plane searching,checking every seat. With the thirty-six-degree water rising waist deep, theplane going down, and the flight crew yelling for him to exit, he still checkedmaking sure as best he could that no one was left behind.

Thecrew became insistent that he leave, so he grabbed what I imagine was the flightlog and gave one more glance back to thecabin. Then he slid down the slide.

Ittook hours to know what the actual passenger count was. One person had tried toswim to shore, one had tripped into the water, and both were rescued. But whoknew if there were others who slipped away undetected.

Hourslater, when the final count came in—155, the relief on the Captain’s face, played brilliantly by TomHanks, was apparent. Miraculously, all under his care were accounted for.

In Dorothea Day’s poem, “My Captain,” a response to  "Invictus,” she writes,“Christ is the Captain of my soul.”

The one scene of Captain Sullenberger wading through hypothermia inducingwaters, refusing to leave until he thought all the passengers were safe brings tears to my eyes. And it brings comfort to mysoul because I know that in an exponential way, God has done and is doing that.When the chilly water is rising and it appears the ship is going down, ourCaptain is still searching for those left behind. “For the Son of Man came toseek and to save what was lost” (Luke 19:10). Jesus didn’t try to save himselffirst, He gave everything to save us. It’s a message worth telling as long aswe have breath in our bodies.

Even after we give our lives to Him, we may face times when we feel alittle lost, not knowing what the future holds, or which way we should go. But ourCaptain is on duty, never forgetting about us, never leaving us. Hebrews 13:5reads, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

If you watch the movie, let it roll during the credits at the end, becausethere’s a real-life scene of Captain Sullenberger with a reunion of thepassengers. So heartwarming. And folks, one day, we’ll have a grand reunion,too, with all those whom the Captain of our souls has rescued.

  

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Morning Concert

Recently, while biking near the coast, a huge cargoship entered the channel a short distance away—a ship possibly carrying carslike the one that overturned in this area a few years back. It was like  most of the cargo ships that come into thischannel—except for its name.

Etchedon the side were the words, “Morning Concert.” I was struck by how lyrical thename was compared to the utilitarian nature of the vessel. I was so awed that Ididn’t get a picture until the vessel was heading into port.

Ofcourse, the name conjured up a thousand questions in this writer’s mind. Whoowned the vessel? Who named it? What concert were they referring to? Who wassinging? Why in the morning?

Godused that name to reinforce a couple of things He has been speaking to my heart.The first  has to do with timing. I havea time set aside with the Lord every morning, but I sense He wants me to chooseconsciously and consistently to connect with Him immediately on my waking, andnot become distracted with my to do list or anything else. Second, I wasreminded of something A.W. Tozer says— how we should do nothing butthat it first begins with praise. In other words, God wants a “Morning Concert”from us before we begin our day.

Formany of us, that’s going to require a change. But what might it accomplish inour lives?

ThePsalmist did this—“What a beautiful thing, God, to give thanks, to singan anthem to you, the High God! To announce your love each daybreak . . . “(Psalm 92:1-3 The Message).

I’vedone this for a while now. As I wake, I’ll pray about a song to sing, and onealways drifts into my mind—often ahymn from back in the day. I know all the verses to many of them after a lifetimeof being a church musician. I’ve noticed something interesting as I whisper/singthe words. The words seem to shine in my mind as if a spotlight is on them.They become clearer and more meaningful as I offer them to God in that quiettime. The song often comes back to me throughout the day ministering to my heart.

So, try having your own “Morning Concert.” Only God knows the fullimpact a practice like this will have.

Related: The Golden Ray in the Golden Ray

 

Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021

A Father's Legacy

This devotion first appeared in the Upper Room Magazine in 2020. 

That person is like a tree planted bystreams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does notwither—whatever they do prospers. Psalm 1:3

My father gave our family a Bradford Pear tree one springmany years ago. It hardly rained the summer following, and even though I was eightmonths pregnant, I went out every day and watered the tiny tree trying to helpit make it through the simmering Georgia heat. The tree has now survived for twodecades.

In the days after my father’s death, I struggled tofind solace and comfort. I often found it while sitting under the tree he gaveus. I’m so glad I made the effort to keep the tree alive all those years ago,because, when I’m under its spreading shade, God helps me find comfort rememberingthat my dad’s influence is much like that tree and that I am still sittingunder it, as well.  A Bible teacher formany years, though he is not physically with me, his counsel and help are. Istill have all that he has poured into me through the years.

Like my dad, I pray I might also leave a lasting legacy forthose to come, that my life will be as that tree providing shelter and help forgenerations to come.

Dear Lord, thank you for the influence and teaching of thosewho have come before us. Let it inspire us to live our lives in such as way asto influence future generations for you. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

 



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Not Going Out of Business

Thispicture is from the front door of what used to be a beloved restaurant,Sandcastle,  in a favorite vacation spot.Closed now, whoever put up the sign was feeling the loss as we are. Therestaurant’s idiosyncrasies were memorable. There was a map of the world andthe US just inside the front door where you could place a push pin to showwhere your home was. The maps were nearly covered with pushpins from years ofpeople wanting to leave  their littlemark behind. The tables once held sand buckets with napkins inside, and if youwere sitting on the front porch, watch out for birds trying to steal crumbsfrom your table. Their breakfast buffet was incredible, and even though I’mgluten free for quite a while now, I still dream of their waffles.

Yes,feeling the loss.

In Faith in the Fashion District, I shared that I can’t shopat going out of business sales. No bargain I find there will offset the grief Ifeel over lost jobs, lost community, and an empty store front left behind.Because I worked in the retail and fashion industry for ten years, I know that astore is a place where people share their lives and when it dissolves, manyfeel it in an acute way. Often coworkers become like family. Because of my experience, I would feel like avulture going into a place that will soon be shuttered.

Sometimes,we act as if God is going out of business. We wouldn’t admit it, but we live ina way that says we don’t think he’s quite up to the job anymore. We can be tooquick to accept the status quo, and too slow to believe God is able to still workmiracles.

EverythingGod ever did, God still does.

Asong that has really ministered to me in the past few years is “My God is Stillthe Same.” The song was written in the middle of the pandemic and one of thewriters, Dustin Lolli, said, “ . . . we wrote the song to remind people and thechurch that God is here—He hasn’tleft-and the same God who did incredible things then, still does incrediblethings today!”

So, whatever you’re facing, God is on the job. He’s not downsizing or closingshop. In the words of Jesus, “My Father is always at his work to this very day,and I too am working” (John 5:17).

Keep up your hope. God is not going out of business. Ever.

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021

Above all that we ask or think

I recently had an encounter which illustrated Ephesians 3:20in an amazing way. Some of you may remember the verse best from the King James,“Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask orthink, according to the power that worketh in us.” I can’t share the details ofmy experience, but I can say I went into the situation with an idea of how itwould go, and what happened was beyond my wildest imagination.

I left convicted that I had seriously underestimated whatGod might do. I memorized Ephesians 3:20 early in my walk with the Lord, whichwas decades ago. And yet, still, I drop my jaw over how God can show up in unexpectedways and work out details that wouldn’t even occur to me.

There’s an interesting note in Wycliffe’s commentary on thisverse which focuses on that last phrase, “according to the power that workethin us.” The commentary reads, “That is, we have been strengthened by his Spirt.Consequently, this power is being energized in us.”

Strong's translates the Greek word power here with thesemeanings—"force, miraculous power, ability,abundance.”

What I had really underestimated is what God might dothrough this jar of clay with my name on it. We can forget who we are in Him.We are His plan A, not the default plan, yet,  sometimes, we act as if we are.

In challenging circumstances, we need to move in theawareness that the same miraculous power that raised Jesus from the dead lives inus. Maybe we need to develop a consistent attitude of expecting the unexpected.

As some of you know, I hardly ever post stock photos, buttry to use pics I’ve taken. When thinking of an illustration for this post, Ithought of the peony picture I took this past week. I love peonies, but myattempts at growing them have not been successful. We saw these in a store, andJerry wanted to buy them for me. The buds were closed when we bought them, butthirty minutes later they had burst open in full splendor.

Unexpected, but such an illustration of how God can cause asituation that seems closed to open in a moment with glorious beauty--above all that we ask or think. 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021

When you need a defender

Ihave a pile of brown thrashers in a bush near my house right now.

WhenI first discovered the nest with eggs, I received a crash course in brown thrasherbehavior. I poked my nose into a bush to get a closer look, and the mama flewout making it clear that I was not to enter her air space. Her behavior caused meto have flashbacks of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie, “The Birds.” This encounterhelped me realize I was not going to be snapping pictures of the little ones everyday like I did with a wrens’ nest. 

Later when I researched brown thrashers, I learnedthey are territorial and fierce defenders of the nest. They have even beenknown to attack humans. Yeah, I got that. The picture I snapped above was done quicklyduring a brief time the mom was absent.

Inrecent days, I’ve been made aware of a story that concerns someone I’ve had theprivilege of meeting. She has a child who has profound developmental challenges.He was receiving care but needed assistance on a much higher level. The motherhas been unrelenting in searching for ways he could receive this care as the extraordinarycost was beyond her means. Years went by, and the parents separated under thestress of his care. But the mother never gave up on her child. Then one day,she received an unexpected phone call. The caller on the other end said, “I hearyou have a problem.” Before the mother could even engage, this person offered to pay for her son’s care thatyear. She couldn’t believe it. Her prayers had been answered. Within months ofarriving at the place she had wanted for him, her son began to experience dramatic improvement.That was years ago, and the provision for his care from someone who wanted to remain an anonymous benefactor is still coming. Godhonored the commitment of a fierce mom who continued to advocate for her son.

Thismother’s love points to the much greater love of the one who made us. God isalso our defender, our advocate, and His fierceness makes the brown thrasher’spale in comparison.

ThePsalmist David once wrote, “He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defense;I shall not be moved” (Psalm 62:6). David’s confidence in God’s ability toprotect and defend him even when he was fleeing for his life remained high. Oursshould, too.

Weare His children, and when we are desperate, when we are wronged, when we are misunderstood, when we are attacked, when we are between the proverbial rockand hard place, God is there. God is present. God is our defender. And He isfierce and unflinching. He is not turned back by any adversary, and He isalways ready to come to our aid.

Andlike the mother who never gave up, He will never abandon us or forget us.

Wecan find great comfort in embracing God as our defender.

Thebrown thrasher is the state bird of Georgia, and from the picture, it appears those littleones are getting ready to fledge which will help with the declining numbers of thespecies. With the brown thrasher's repertoire of more than one thousand songs and calls, thetrees are likely to fill with music around here. And I’d say that’s worth almostgetting pecked on my head.

 

 

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Seeing

Inthese parts here, we’ve been talking about seeing.

Now,not the physical seeing, but the spiritual seeing.

Itbegan with a question from a teacher regarding God’s breaking into our naturalworld. “Do you see it?” she asked emphatically.

Thenthat same week as I was doing a study by Carolyn Moore, who we know because she and Jerry attended seminary together, I cameacross another message on this topic.

Thestudy, Supernatural includes a story about how God helped her become moresensitive to His working around her by watching. She writes, “When I watchedfor the kingdom of God to be exposed, I saw the kingdom of God exposed.”

Sheincludes a quote I love from Thomas Merton, “I have no program for this seeing.It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere.”

Sheconcludes with this, “Spiritual eyesight is something we must pursue.”

Forsure. And sometimes we must do away with our preconceived notions of how Godwill show up, because it is often in an unexpected way.

Thatquestion my teacher asked echoes the one in Isaiah 43:19, “Forget about what’shappened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about todo something brand new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is ! I’m makinga road through the desert, rivers in the badlands” (The Message).

I imagine,you’re like me, and also have metaphorical deserts and badlands through which youneed God to make roads and rivers. Folks, as Merton said, the gate of heaven iseverywhere. I want my spiritual eyes to be on alert for all the ways God isshowing up around me.

Let’snot miss any of it. Open our eyes, Lord! 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado is the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. Her memoir, Faith in the Fashion District, from Crosslink Publishing is available wherever fine books are sold. Also consider her other books, Give My Love to the Chestnut Trees and Home to Currahee.To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.com Beverly Varnado copyright 2021