Every picture tells a story, dont it?

I hear the whispers...

The oldest living things on earth...

     Yesterday my husband and I hiked around the Ancient Bristlecone Forest and it blew my mind.  We stood among the oldest living things on earth. The oldest living things on earth.   As I contemplated why, in my 23 years I had never had the inkling to go before now, (it's only a two hour drive from my house) I knew that it was all about God's timing. I wouldn't have seen what stood in front of me 20 years ago, or even ten.  There truly is a purpose for every season under heaven, and this was mine for these ancient trees. 

     There was something amazing about standing at the foot of something 4000 years old as Paul and I celebrated the brand new life of our third grandson Gideon just two days before.  I love how God uses things like this to reveal himself and how he uses us in each other's lives because if not for some precious friends, I would have missed this entirely.  A few weeks ago, our friend David went to finish a job at the visitor center and his wife Lisa went along for the ride.  David is a  master woodworker and put in all the counter tops and cabinetry in the new building. The next day, when Lisa posted a picture of an ancient tree, I couldn't stop thinking about it and asked Paul if he would take me so we made a date. 

      The new forest visitor center was still running on the adrenaline of the re-grand opening from the day before, (the old visitor center burned down in a fire several years ago) and the woman who greeted us sang the praises of DK Wordworks and his artistic cabinetry. After asking a few questions about the trails and the timing of the hike, Paul and I headed off.  We were told that the 4 1/2 mile loop around the Methuselah trail usually took about 3 hours if you stopped to take pictures. I saw Paul look at his watch when she said this and make new calculations.  I knew what he was thinking. These people had never put anything like me into that mathematical photo taking equation before. 

     So picture this. Me, who can't even drive home from Mammoth without stopping to photograph something, on a very narrow trail full of roots and rocks among the oldest trees on earth. This was not a trail that you could walk along and casually take pictures. The trail required my full attention, so it was one or the other. The reflection of the afternoon light on these trees captivated me and had me turning in circles and stopping at every bend in the road.  Paul was recalculating the time it would take us to get to the end before the first quarter mile. 

     I think it was right about the one mile marker that my camera froze. I'm not kidding. My brand new Iphone wouldn't close or shoot another picture. I thought perhaps the forty-seven pictures in a row or the jostling from the trail had killed it. I couldn't close the app, or turn it off.  My words, "Are you kidding me?!" brought my husband from the forty feet in front of me back to my side.  He was sympathetic and patient. I think he even felt my pain as we hadn't even entered the oldest part of the forest where Methuselah lived.  After a few minutes of panic, it finally shut down so I zipped it into my jacket pocket and moved forward behind the footsteps of my husband. In the quiet that followed, God reminded me that this ancient forest was not about me and the pictures I was taking, but about His creation and glory. Once I settled there, I somehow knew my Iphone would come back on. It did.

     We arrived in the grove of 4000 year old trees about an hour later and as we sat among them we read the amazing story of their survival. I will share some of that with you now. 

      Bristlecone Pines grow very slowly because of limited resources and short growing season. Only a thin layer of tissue (a growth ring) is added to the truck branches and roots each year. A one inch thickness of growth may take a century to accomplish. It may take 300 years to reach a height of 50 feet and they keep their needles for 30 to 40 years. This lack of forest floor litter prevents the spread of fire. These trees have been sculpted by wind, ice and extreme exposure to the elements. Their contorted shapes seem to defy nature and the exposed dead wood of these ancient trees seems to have their own color palette.  Sunshine, wind and aging all have their effect. The polished surfaces are the result of wind and ice blasting the surface for thousands of years. They may be famous because of their age, because of their ability to record climate trends. Their sensitive nature gives scientists a record of the past. Climates, droughts, severe frost, fires,and volcanic eruptions can all be recorded in these ancient pieces of wood. 

The amazing Great Basin Bristlecone Pine will continue to thrive in this harsh environment. Dolomite, climate, and dense wood all play roles in its secrets to longevity, yet there are many mysteries to solve. These oldest trees survive in the most difficult situations.  Perhaps there is a lesson in this for all of us. A lesson as old as these ancient trees.

I love this stuff! 

   

      

Please pray for Dan Parkins!

This life of faith simply brings me to my knees. My soul cries out!
Please read about the Parkins family journey and join me in intercessory prayer. Their trials go beyond any human understanding, but Dan's story is the most beautiful testimony of God being glorified through trials that I have ever seen. Go onto his blog and read it in his own words. You don't want to miss out on what God is doing in this place. You really dont!

http://danielparkins.wordpress.com/2012/07/14/a-dark-tunnel/

www.facebook.com/Daydreams.Dan.Parkins

"Then Sings my soul." part Two

     I knew God would have some gems for me and he did not disappoint. As I went through the index of songs, (300 total), I searched for the ones I grew up singing. My excitement grew as I found them one by one.
     Paul listened to me sing a few more stanzas of my favorites, and let me share some stories. This one made me laugh.
    The song, "A mighty fortress is our God," was written by Martin Luther. This surprised me, (not really sure why), but my smile came in the knowledge that this song was a staple in the Catholic church I grew up in. (Still smiling.) He based it on the 46th Psalm and reflects Luther's awareness of our intense struggle with Satan.  As I sang the next line to my audience of one, it carried all the passion I'd had as a child. "A bulwark never failing." Then I laughed as I realized I had absolutely no idea was a bulwark was. I don't think I ever asked anyone, maybe I did. If I did, I don't remember, so I looked it up. ("Bulwark: a wall of earth built for defense) Makes perfect sense now, right?     
     The next song that struck a deep chord in me, "Now Thank We All Our God," is based on 1Thessalonians 5:18 and Colossians 3:17. The next line says, "With heart and hands and voices." Wow, Lord. This was written by a Lutheran Pastor in 1636, and is considered one of the few but rich hymns devoted exclusively to thanking God.
     The song, "Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty," was written 1826 and based on Revelation 4:8. "Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee."
     "Crown Him with many Crowns, the lamb upon his throne. Hark how the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own. Awake my soul and sing, of Him who died for thee. And hail him as thy matchless King, Through all eternity." This was written in 1851 and based on Rev. 19:12.
     "Onward Christian soldiers marching as to war, With the cross of Jesus going on before. Christ the royal master, Leads against the foe, Forward into battle, See his banners go." Written in 1865 and based on 2 Chronicles 20:17.
     I will end with the song that makes me weep. I can't remember getting through it without tears. The story behind this song is great and long, so I will leave you with just one thing. In the New York Crusade of 1957, (this is the year I was born) it was sung by Bev Shea ninety-nine times, with the choir joining in the majestic refrain. "Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee, How great Thou art! How Great thou art!
     

My man and me... our day to celebrate 35 years of life and love.

Death brings new life...

Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:19 ESV)

a piece of paper on my floor...

     About 2 years ago God assigned me a job. The job description wasn't cut and dried but it had a title that I could work with. I knew the only training I would get would come from God or from the strength and instruction he gave me, (but what better teacher, right?)
     Like all new jobs, there was fear of failure. (Talk about pressure. God would be my boss.) But, like any new job, there was also the excitement in the opportunity. Lot's of it. (Hadn't he chose me for this position after all?) So...I told people I'd been hired and I jumped in with enthusiasm. After a rocky start, the next six months flew by. The job practically did itself.
     Then a few trials came. Then, a few more. My life got really hard and the job got seriously tough. Sooo,... I quit.
     Several months passed and since I hadn't really talked about quitting my job a few people asked about it. "It was fine." I said. I was vague.
     I need to finish this, I thought. Lots of people knew I had started. I could do this. I could so do this. I'd been trained. I'd been trained well. I could do this job with my eyes closed. I was gonna finish.
     I got busy writing the job description for the second half. Piece a cake. No problem. I was all over it.
     Then God stopped me. "I'm sorry. I really love you, but I'm not happy with your job description. I'm sending you on a vacation. Go back to your life and keep your eyes and heart on me. I'll let you know when it's time to come back."
     Fine, Lord. That's just fine with me, I thought. I have more on my plate right now then I can handle now anyway. So,  I laid it down, and I walked away. That was about seven months ago.
     On Wed. night I passed on small group. I had been placed on a jury. A felony criminal jury. Two days of jury selection and one day of really hard testimony. I was spent. I needed a shower and some quiet time alone with God.    
     When I got out of the shower and stepped into my bedroom, I froze. On the floor, right in front of me beside my bed was a piece of paper. I knew this piece of paper because I had written the words on the page. I did not know where it had come from. I had not seen it in over a year.
     The hair on my arms stood up and I tightened the towel I was wearing. At the exact moment fear began to rise up inside me, I knew the truth. This was supernatural. A supernatural act of God.
     I walked around the paper three times, staring at it but afraid to touch it. I picked up my Iphone and took of it for proof later that it hadn't been a dream.
     On the floor was the dedication page to my bible study. My sister's name was on it, as were the editing marks of my friend Peggy. I text-ed them both the picture.
     "I found this on the floor when I came out of the shower. I'm alone. Haven't seen this in almost a year. Thought you both should know."
     One replied with, "Maybe the Holy Spirit wants you to pray for us."
     I can do that, I thought. I can totally do that. And I did."
     The other said, "Omg!  God is telling you something big here. Wow."
     Yes, I thought, He certainly is.

          I have felt God's gentle nudgings about getting back to this task more than once. "Is that you, Lord? Hmmm... I'm not so sure." I was thinking about my busy life. I had just started the garden and school was almost out. I would be working full-time soon. I told myself it wasn't Gods prompting.  He said I would "Know" when it was time.
   
     Well...He was right.
   
     Sometimes God speaks to us through the old testament stories with words he spoke to Moses. Sometimes, God speaks to us through dreams and visions just the way he did with the bible prophets. He certainly speaks to us through the actions of our Savior, Jesus.
     Sometimes his voice is just a quiet one inside our spirit.
     God may not be going before us with a cloud of fire, parting the red sea, or laying manna at our feet. But there are times, like on Wed. night, that God speaks supernaturally to us through a piece of paper that he puts on the floor.
   
     If you're ready, I'm ready, Lord. Help me finish this job...

Planting a heart-shaped memorial stone...Part One

                                

     I love the Old Testament picture of God’s people planting stones or building altars of remembrance. I picture Grandfathers gathering up children year after year as they settle in and snuggle. I see their eyes grow wide in amazement as the great and magnificent tales unfold.

      We all have stories. Stories of miracles and suffering. Stories of great and remembrance. I value them, because when life gets hard, and it does, I need to remember. 
     I have walked in, or closely beside, miscarriages, infant death, rare disease, heart attacks, brain surgeries, a young girl who got lost in a snowstorm and ended up in heaven. A family ripped apart and forever changed by suicide. 
     Life can break our hearts and bring deep pain, yet God’s word shouts of the promises and redemption that comes through Jesus on the cross. He is present in it all. Human suffering, however, is still a very real deal. Life can get ugly and hard.

     The Bible tells us it will be, but it is difficult to “count it all as joy”, and understand  “glory in suffering” when we feel as if we are drowning.  
     I struggle even now sharing a recent victory because I have close friends, people I love deeply still trapped chest high in raging waters.  But I know God’s living power brings encouragement.  It brings hope. It teaches faith.  

     It is in our trials that we need to sit with Jesus and let him read us our Memorial stone stories. In that place of his great love and sacrifice, we can reflect, remember, and praise.  Our stories give the strength to endure in faith for the hope of what is to come.   

      God doesn't talk with me the way He did with Moses, and I do not wake up with the miracle of the shimmery manna from heaven at my feet, but I have stories of memorial stones.  
     God speaks through his word, through the gospel of Jesus and through the Holy Spirit helper. God answers prayer. Lays words on our hearts. He heals. He imparts joy and He infuses hope. 
     I want to Rejoice in the things that have "not yet" come. I want to give Praise for the things "not yet" seen and "not yet" known because I have allowed the enemy to rob me. I let him talk me into taking my eyes off of God in hard places. I jumped into his band wagon instead of climbing into the lap of Jesus to hear my stories. 
     And now, because I don't ever want to give the enemy room in my heart to do that again, I plant a Memorial stone and have a story to tell.