Saturday Psalm: Psalm 18

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Today’s Psalm…

~michael


When God loves a woman through her bad…

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The love of a man for his wife can only be as great as his love for the Lord is deep and real and true.

Making me greatly loved for all I am. My good, and even my bad.

With a love that blesses and soothes in ways I cannot count.  Countless points of love touching my life, flooding my soul, refreshing my heart.

In the quiet things done for me when no one save The One is looking.

And the long hours of prayer which cover me like a comforter, downy warm.

Gentle teachings from God’s Word.

And that certain soft look in his eyes that I have seen not only in moments of sheer bliss, but in the harder times, too.

For all of this and so much more, there are no earthly words with which to utter profound enough thanks.

Only humble, hushed gratitude lived out daily…

I thank my God always concerning you, Michael, for the grace of God which was given you in Christ Jesus
1 Corinthians 1:4

But in those moments after darkness, when for a time I have chosen to shut my eyes to the Light, I am especially grateful for a man who loves and serves Jesus Christ above himself.

A man who lays down his life for me, to present me without spot, wrinkle or blemish before a Holy God.

Moments when I haven’t done my best, when I’ve disappointed both God and husband. These are the beautiful moments, when I see with heart wrenching clarity, the love of Christ in the words and actions of the man whose name I bear.

After years of progressively moving forward, I chide myself when sin prevails, though blotted clear by crimson.

Cringing to admit that my fallen humanness sometimes leads me down an unholy path, tripping over self, stumbling into a dark pit.

And then the love of this one, good, godly man extends a hand to me in sheer Grace, lifting me up, helping me regain perspective, while admonishing where needed.

Reaching across the breach, reassuring me.

Pulling me close so I can see the Light again, recognize my worth…

In Christ.

Lamenting over my poor choices while trusting in Perfect Love.

Coupling repentance with forgiving myself, and reaffirming the true desire of my heart which is to be good.

 Therefore you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Matthew 5:48

Brushing myself off after forgiveness asked and received, and the issue talked all through.

Pulling up by the bootstraps and purposing to block out the lies of satan which taunt, “You’ll never get this right.”

Choosing to believe the truth about myself, that I am precious to the Lord, that He died to save me {all of us!} from my sins, that He is building me from the inside out, that He will always love me.

And then, continuing on…

Awash in the light of His love, surrounded by Holy Grace.

Moving forward in the strength of the Lord, until the work on earth is done, job finished well.

Filling up leaking places in the foundation with Word that seals in hope, cemented by a love so strong and deep that nothing can destroy it.

Washed by the water of His Word.  Made water tight again.

Resting in the Lord, who is forever always with me, trusting His love that never changes.

Not ever.  No matter what.

 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38-39

Seeing a shadow of this Perfect Love in one imperfect man, perfect for me.

And me for him.

Helping each other to grow up in the Lord as we make our way each day along a journey of a thousand miles — littered here and there with glitches and gravel — to His happily ever after…

Hope is restored!

All is not lost!

Jesus lives!

And by His grace, and with a wise and patient husband’s love, I am one day closer to being a little more like Him…

In Jesus name.

~sheila

A million thanks, Mom…

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She is my mother…

And I am her child, first born baby girl.

A mother child, too, giving her three fine grandboys a couple of decades ago.

And I want to say thanks, Mom. With gratitude that only a mother heart can know.

Thanks for all the nights you stayed up with me when I was so congested I could barely breath, frightened.

For making me toast and milky sweet tea in the pink cup, fluffing the pillows and tuning in Mayberry R.F.D. whenever I was home sick from school.

For studying spelling words which helped me win the fifth grade spelling bee at P.S. 5.

For bedtime stories of your youth whispered long into the dark.

For encouraging me to always seek the highest, work hard and be my best.  You were the wind beneath my wings for all my growing up years, helping me launch into life.

While there was Daddy darkness during childhood, you worked hard to provide a loving homelife with sweet and silly memories. And then you took on the responsibility of raising us alone…

I still remember cherry Kool-Aid, brings me right back to where it all began.  Where my story started. Where you birthed me into being, and then Theresa.

By the grace of God.

And now, reflecting on those years so long ago, I see a tiny me and Tree splashing in puddles during gentle summer showers.  Driveway blacktop steamy hot.  Wearing nothing but undies!  Giggling and holding joy in our hearts as we held each other’s hands.

You, our Tickle Monster, who would chase after us through the house and corner us on the couch and tickle us and we just couldn’t stop laughing.

Making Rexie, our smart and zany mutt, run like a wild coyote from one end of the house to the other, canine claws slipping on linoleum.  We stood by laughing, little hands clapping like crazy.  And when you tried to get him to settle, our loyal pet would snarl and give you a little growl, until you cornered him on the couch too, and held him tight.

There may have been tears along the way, but what fun we had!  You did such a wonderful job raising us.

And, when I was all grown up, with babies of my own, you stood by me when my own world came crashing down, through the subsequent years of darkness and mistakes, pain, loss and fear.

You were there listening, loving, helping, guiding.  Being my friend.

You are my beautiful mom, hand picked by God Himself. Coming from a long line of beautiful moms…your beloved mother, our dearest Ma, that I only knew till I was 10, and our darling Baba, your maternal grandmother from the Old Country, who got to see me wear a wedding gown.

All good women, hard working, with strong hearts that loved no matter what.  A beautiful legacy.

I pray, Mom, that I’ve done half as good a job raising my three sons as you did with me and my sister.  Carrying on in God’s grace and strength.

Happy, Blessed Mother’s Day.

You’re the best!

I’ll always love you with all my heart.

~sheila

 

1000 Moms Project

 

Saturday Psalm: Psalm 17

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Today’s Psalm…

~michael