Time to Pray

I found this poem on a friend's blog...and decided I should post it as well.  Sometimes we are the ones that are weak; sometimes we are the ones stronger...in either case, we should know it's time to pray.

 

 

Pray One for Another

by Marianne Farningham

I cannot tell why there should come to me

A thought of someone miles and miles away,

In swift insistence on the memory—

Unless there be a need that I should pray.

Too hurried oft are we to spare a thought,

For days together, of some friend away;

Perhaps God does it for us, and we ought

To read His signal as a call to pray.

Perhaps, just then, my friend has fiercer fight,

Some overwhelming sorrow or decay

Of courage; darkness, some lost sense of right;

And so in case he needs my prayer, I pray.

Friend, do the same for me! If I unsought

Intrude upon you on some crowded day,

Give me a moment’s prayer, in passing thought;

Be very sure I need it; therefore pray.

 

 

 

Sun-Faded; Spending Treasure

"Oh, Mama! It’s beautiful!" I exclaimed when she showed me what she had been knitting.

It was my favorite color: Kelley Green; and it had little white buttons on it with colorful animals protruding on the face of the button. It was made with a nice thick skein of yarn and it was warm. Best of all, my mom made it; just for me.

Grandpa

I really don’t remember the occasion. Not sure if it was a Christmas present, a birthday present, or just because.

What I do remember is that it was my favorite sweater; probably my most treasured piece of clothing in general.

Remember the old saying: “We do not remember days; we remember moments.” Well, I find that saying to become more and more factual, the older I get. The memories fade a bit more and more as time passes. In the end, it is really only a "moment" that one remembers. It's the highlight, the shiniest part, the part that touches most deeply that sticks in ones mind. All the rest is forgotten; it is only the lesson, the tragedy, or the sunny part that one really holds on to - simply, a moment.

Well, I have a visual in my head regarding that cherished article of clothing. I can still see in my mind’s eye, that bright green sweater draped over the cow’s wooden feeding trough at my grandparents' ranch.

We had made a visit to the land north to visit my paternal grandparents. I don’t really recall if this was one of our weekly stays with Grandma and Grandpa, or just a week-end visit. I know I was playing in my favorite playground – the barnyard and pastures at my grandparent’s ranch. Oh, how I loved playing there! I could let my imagination run away with me, as I used every building there – the chicken coop, the milking barn, the hay loft, the style over the fence to the orchard, all of it – as part of my adventure.

Grandma

It was sunny on this particular day and I had gotten too warm. I took off my sweater and laid it on the old trough. Grandpa wasn’t using this trough any more, and I’m sure I had no thoughts that anything might happen to it when I laid it there and continued in my play. I remember Grandpa calling me to the barn for some reason. I don’t remember why. But there my sweater stayed, forgotten, for the rest of the day.

 

I’m not sure when I next missed my beautiful green sweater. I don’t remember anymore about it. I only hold the memory of knowing that when it was found it had been sun-faded to a dull yellow. It must have been a while before Grandpa or Grandma found it laying there on the trough. As I said, Grandpa wasn’t using this trough any more, and it was far enough away from the barn that it probably took awhile for him to even see that it was there.

My mom loves to tell this story. I have heard her repeat it a number of times. I always thought her telling it, was out of understanding my great loss. Yes! For a 6 year old, loosing my favorite sweater was a great loss! It was only yesterday, as we had coffee with family, that I understood the real reason this is one of the stories my mom, like me, often reminisces.

We were talking about knitting with my cousin and sister, and mom paused a moment to relay the time that "Jannie left her newly hand-knitted sweater lying in the sun at Grandpa’s ranch".

 

“Mom, I didn’t do it on purpose!” I laughed as I said it, trying to inform the rest of the group at the table as much as I was trying to remind her. “I LOVED that sweater! It was my favorite!”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed too, as she said it. “But it was the very first sweater I had ever knitted and you couldn’t wear it anymore after that because it was so faded.”

Who knew? I guess mama had her own reasons for holding on to that moment and loving that little green sweater as much as I did.  I’m pretty sure this is one of those moments that will never fade…for either of us.

 

Black Land Farmer

 

Something Soft

Well, my favorite month is here and more than half way gone.  February my favorie month?  Well not really, I guess.  It is kind of my favorite month like December 22nd is my favorite day. It only signals the day that I am most anxious to see get here. I like December 22nd because from that day forward, I know the days will be getting longer.

So, it's the same thing with February.  It is the shortest month, and once it is here and over, I know the worst of winter is behind us.  Not that I hate winter, mind you...I love it up to a point. It's just that we reach that point about December 31st.  ;-)

The other thing about February is that it is typically a month with lots of sunshine...for a winter month, anyway.  I tell people that and they look at me like I'm nuts.  But it's true.  Start watching the month of February from now on and you will see it is almost always the winter month with the most sunshiny days.

This February, without a doubt, we have had a spring teaser.  We have had some very nice days, and warmer than usual temperatures.  Spring has definately been in the air.  I like the way my sister described it.  She said the days were "soft".  I hadn't heard that espression before, but I really liked it; it fit so well. It is exactly what the feeling is.  Soft and easy; the exact opposite of harsh; no biting, no chill, easy to breathe; easy to move; simply soft to the skin; soft to the touch; soft. 

The days are getting longer.  It's light when I get up now. It's lighter when I feed the horses. Driving is easier. The sunsets have been incredible. There is something different in the air.

No crocuses yet, though. No birds  - at least not here in my yard. No green grass yet, but the snow is slowly melting. I like it. It's hopeful. It's spring just around the corner. It's easy. It's soft. It's exactly what I have been waiting for - something soft.

Our Best Friend

Within the last couple of weeks, I have come across some "articles/letters" about the loss of ones dog.

I received a very moving email in my in-box about dogs in general.  They all came to my attention in such close proximity of each other, that I couldn't help but take a little extra time to contemplate what was said.

They were all so moving that I wanted to write about each of them. I decided that would be way to long of a post for anyone to actually enjoy.  So I decided to just create a page for you go go to if you would like to read the owner's statements.  I hope you will take the time.  They are all equally touching, and all offer a whole lot of insight to "man's (and woman's) best friend".


President Bush and the Infamous Barney Bush


Governor Mike Huckabee's Tribute to his dog Jet


A Dog's Purpose

 

A Girl's Best Friend

 

Tender Mercies

"Let all the world know that the Lord Christ is full of pity*, and of tender mercy.  He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax.  As a father pities his children, so He pities them that fear Him.  As one whom his mother comforts, so will He comfort His people (James 5:11; Matt. 12:20; Psalm 103:13; Isa. 66:13).  He cares for the lambs of His flock as well as for the old sheep.  He cares for the sick and feeble ones of His fold as well as for the strong.  It is written that He will carry them in His bosom, rather than let one of them be lost (Isa.40:11). He cares for the least members of His body, as well as for the greatest.  He cares for the babes of His family as well as the grown-up men.  He cares for the tenderest little plants in His garden as well as for the cedar of Lebanon.  All are in His book of life, and all are under His charge.  All are given to Him in an everlasting covenant, and He has undertaken, in spite of all weaknesses, to bring everyone safe home.  Only let a sinner lay hold on Christ by faith and then, however feeble, Christ's word is pledged to him, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.'  He may correct him occasionally in love.  He may gently reprove him at times.  But He will never, never give him up.  The devil shall never pluck him from Christ's hand."

                                      ~ J. C. Ryle

Behold, we count them happy which endure.  Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.

James 5:11

 

 

 

 

 

*Pity - Compassion

The Devil of Ramadi

We lost an American hero, yesterday. He wasn't just an American hero; he was MY hero.

Do you have heroes? We all should. They are an important part of our walk through this life. We look up to them; we want to talk about them, and most important of all we want to emulate them. That, above all things is why heroes are so very important; they bring us to a higher place...a place where we know we can do better; we know we can be like that, too. Heroes are extremely important to any society. They make us better. I suppose that's why we don't hear much about "heroes" anymore. Nobody wants us to be better, it seems sometimes.

Anyway, my thoughts on heroes can be for another post. Yesterday, I lost one of my biggest heroes. I've written about him before. He is (excuse me, was) Navy Seal Sniper, Chris Kyle. He is the deadliest American sniper in history, having more "confirmed" kills than any other man in any other war. I know that isn't a very nice thing to talk about. I'm sorry. War is not pleasant. So I won't talk much about that; let's just say because of that number - 160 - he also saved that many lives. In fact, he probably saved lives more than 10 times that number. But even with all of that, that is not why he is my hero.

He is my hero, because he was brave, courageous, and humble. He is my hero because he loved this nation and knew it needs to be protected if it is to remain the greatest nation on earth. He is my hero because he had a job to do and he did it. He is my hero because he knew and understood the enemy, and he wasn't afraid to speak the truth about that. He is my hero because he was called "al-Shaitan" (the devil) by the enemy. He is my hero, because he said what he believed, he stood up for what he believed, and he fought for what he believed. Political correctness had no place in his life. He is my hero, because he didn't change who he was when fame attached herself to him, hoping to take him down. He is my hero because he was simply a country boy, a rodeo cowboy with down home attitudes and respect. He loved his mama and his daddy; and he loved his wife and kids. He is my hero, because he wasn't afraid to speak of his salvation through Jesus. He is my hero because he is my brother in Christ. He is my hero not because he died, but because he lived. And he lived in a manner in which we should all emulate.

Please read more about him here:
http://www.commandposts.com/2012/03/chris-kyle-al-shaitan-of-iraq/  

I'm not sure the article above explained that the company where Kyle worked, was actually a company he started himself - a company that trains military and police officers, etc. Chris started this company (Craft) when he returned from his service and it was a successful business operation that continued his life of service helping train others....just another reason why he is my hero.

Unfortunately, his business and his desire to continue to help others led to his murder. He was just doing what he does; helping a veteran who had PTSD.  I’m sure we are going to hear more about this…I have my own thoughts about it.

 

As I wrote this blog, I kept finding myself having to go back to change the tense from present to past…I wanted to write in present tense. So much so that I thought about leaving it in present tense, because that seemed more natural, more correct…I guess that’s simply because ones hero never really dies; they live on through their accomplishments and the history that they made…that’s why we need heroes. One of mine just happens to be the “Devil of Ramadi”…but more importantly – my hero is a down-home boy from Texas who simply did things right.

I guess this blog post was about heroes after all.

For he is the minister of God to thee for good. But if those do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain; for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil. ~ Romans 13:4

“If a man doesn’t stand up to evil, then evil will overcome and destroy.”

                                                          ~ Chief Chris Kyle


O'Reilly Interview

10 Questions with Chief Chris Kyle 

Newsmax Interview

A Little Joy    A Little Payback.

"It sounds like treason to me."   ~ My Hero

MSNBC

Conan Interview - (I'm not crazy about Conan, but this does show the humility of this American Hero, along with a note of humor to end on.)

Heroes - I love this article.

Wounded Warriors                 Troops First                  Proper Exit

 

We can learn a lot about a man from his memorial....a just tribute...