Angela Carol Baker

Confessions of a Former Parade Hater

2010-12-05T01:17:00.003-05:00

I must confess...for many years, I HATED parades. Whose idea were these stupid acts of torture? Having been forced to participate in more than my fair share of parades as a part of a dance group, cheerleader squad, church youth group, and later on, a volunteer at a nursing home, I was burned out on the whole idea. I haven't watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in over a decade as a personal venue of protest! Maybe it was the cold (dance tights and tap shoes are NOT proper walking attire for anyone, in any season!) Maybe it was the hordes of kids, screaming from the sidewalks, wanting me to throw candy to them. Maybe it was the lights and sirens that the police AND the fire trucks insisted on blaring every year. Maybe it was those wretched clowns who were always in attendance and, as luck would have it, usually lined up near me! I'm not sure why I hated parades, but I did. There, I've admitted it, that's the first step in healing, right? Now what's step two again? Oh, it doesn't matter anyway, I was going to get a crash course in Parade Haters Anonymous today, whether I liked it or not.

My best friend's niece, Marley, was in the Easley Christmas parade today. I've been a part of that child's life since before she entered the world so; I wasn't about to miss this, even if it meant giving up my coveted day of sleeping in. Do you know how hard it is to drag yourself from a toasty warm bed, on a Saturday, on the coldest day of the year so far, with the sole purpose of then standing outside in said cold to watch people walk past you? I mean really, whose idea was this again?

Confession #2...in case you don't live in or around Easley, you don't know this...on Tuesday of this week, a tornado picked Main Street of Easley, SC, to ravage. It blew out windows in businesses and ripped up quite a few lampposts. It even twisted a church steeple sideways! Thankfully, no one was hurt. I mentioned this because the parade route goes up Pendleton Street and turns onto Main Street. For a while, there was talk of having to cancel this year's parade. My confession? I was hoping they would have to cancel. I know it's a horrible thing to wish but no such luck. The show, or rather, the parade, must go on. But I digress.

So there we were, lined up along Pendleton Street with the cold nipping at our fannies and noses, waiting for the parade to begin. Then, it happened. From over the hill, you could hear the sirens and soon, see the lights. Yep, it was the beginning of the parade. For a moment, all the past parades haunted my thoughts. Then, as they neared, something strange started to happen. I'm not sure if it was the excitement of the children, hoping to catch a piece of candy or if it was how the parade line would have long gaps in it because the driver of a float had stopped to talk to a friend he or she saw on the sidewalk and how proud that made me to be part of a small town, but something very strange began to happen to me. At first, I thought maybe it was the hot cocoa I'd been drinking but no, that wasn't it. Then, it had to be the fact that the sun began to peek out, warming us up, just a little. No, that couldn't be it either. Then, I realized what was happening. To quote one of my favorite Christmas cartoon specials, my "heart grew three sizes that day!" I realized that everything I had dreaded about the parade was now everything that made it special. In this high-tech, fast-paced, no-longer-know-our-neighbors world in which we live, here we were, stepping back to a much simpler time. We were standing, side-by-side, with all races, all ages, all religions, all walks of life and we were all happy. We were laughing about the cold as our teeth chattered. We commented on how nicely the floats had turned out. We exchanged compliments on how pretty or handsome our sidewalk neighbors' children were. We laughed and pointed, smiling, waving and calling out their names when we saw people we knew who were in the parade. We were, for one short hour, indivisible, and it felt wonderful!

By the time Marley's float neared us, I remembered why we watch and participate in these "stupid acts of torture", as I had called them earlier. I knew why even a tornado couldn't stop a Christmas parade. It's the power of the magic that is childhood. Childhood is that sacred period in a person's life when everything is bigger, better, more special, more beautiful and more real than any other time in life. Hope is our ever-present companion. It is when we wake up happy to open our eyes and we go to bed, sad that the day is over. When's the last time you did either of those things? That's what I thought. Childhood is when we used to get butterflies in our tummies instead of ulcers. We fought as Cowboys and Indians instead of Christians and Muslims. We laughed just to hear ourselves laugh. It is when we pledged allegiance to the flag, proudly, and daily in our schools. It is when we bowed our heads to pray over our food instead of hiding it and asking God to bless our food silently, if we remember. It is when we chose our friends based on enjoying their company and not on how they could improve our social standing. Childhood is when things are simple. Childhood is when parades are magical and fun. Childhood is when a parade can make us smile. Today, I revisited my childhood and I smiled.

September 11, 2001, remembered

2010-09-11T14:37:00.002-04:00

Where were you on September 11, 2001? I know you remember. Who could ever forget? I woke up early that morning in horrible pain. I couldn't swallow and my throat felt like it was on fire. My fever was close to 102 degrees. I called my friend, Cyndi. She was the nurse at my doctor's office. She told me to be at the office as soon as I could and they would work me into the schedule. I called in sick to work and headed to the doctor's office where I waited. I was ushered back to a room and poked and prodded for blood tests and throat cultures. I laid down on the bed in the room to wait for the results. I knew I must be sick. Who actually lays down on those beds? I'll never forget the person who told me about the first tower or the look on his face. My doctor walked back into the room, probably as pale as I was, and just looked at me. For a split second, as bad as I felt and from the expression on his face, I thought he was going to tell me that I was dying. Finally, he announced, "You have Strep throat and a plane just flew into the World Trade Center!" I'm sure it was a combination of the fever and the totally unbelievable announcement, but I thought I was hallucinating. I stared at him until he finally broke the silence, "Did you hear me?" I could only squeak out one word, "What?" "An airplane just crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. They think it may have been on purpose! Follow me!" The next few minutes were as surreal as any that I had ever experienced or have experienced since then. I followed him into the staff lounge of the office where doctors, nurses, patients and other office staff were all huddled around a tiny television, silent and gawking. We all stood, mesmerized and shocked, watching the footage play over and over again.

The next few hours are a blur, partly because of the shock from the view on TV and partly because of the pain medication I was prescribed. The fog of the fever didn't help to make anything any clearer either. I remember my first call as I left the doctor's office. I called my mother. I wanted to know that she was okay. It's strange, I know. We live in South Carolina and I just needed to hear her voice to make sure she was okay because terrorists had attacked in New York. I believe that feeling spread like a virus throughout the country. It didn't matter where our loved ones were, we just wanted to hear their voices. We wanted solid proof of their safety. There was one unified emotion that all Americas felt, no matter where we were; fear. Not since Pearl Harbor had there been an attack on American soil. What was the world coming to? For some, the thought that the world was ending rushed to the forethought of our minds.

Strangely, in those next days and then weeks, a reaction occurred that the terrorist group had not expected. They had intended to divide and then conquer us. The opposite happened. Americas put aside race, religion, and region. We become "one nation, under God" for the first time in a very long time. When a survivor was found and rescued from the rubble, we all rejoiced. When a body was pulled from the mangled mess that once was a strong tower, we all wept. There was no "red and yellow, black and white" as the song from our childhood says. We were all "precious in His sight". Amazingly, family differences didn't seem to matter as much anymore. Once petty arguments faded and were replaced with feelings of familiarity and forgiveness that hadn't seemed possible as late as September 10th. People joined hands and hearts in prayer. Churches filled to overflowing in a return to God as an attempt to find some sense or meaning in the aftermath. I don't feel that I'm exaggerating to say that all of America held its breath as we waited to see what would happen next. Would another attack come?

What did happen was amazing. People took vacation days from work to volunteer at Ground Zero, hoping to make a difference. Wallets that were once squeezed tight were stretched to make donations for basic human needs for those directly affected by the attacks. People who had never considered themselves animal lovers were sending their hard earned money to be used to purchase booties for the rescue dogs' feet so that they wouldn't burn their paws as they searched and sniffed for human remains in an attempt to bring some form of closure to the victims' families. Political differences were set aside. We banded together as one in an effort to be one nation in our reaction for this offense. America flags were once again proudly displayed on houses and flew mightily against blue skies. We put aside religious differences and joined together as one voice in prayers for strength for the heroic rescue personnel and comfort for the family members who waited, holding their breath, for some word, hoping that it would be good news.

Since that day, we have cleared the rubble, buried the dead, mourned the lost, and moved on. We have recovered. We are scarred from the experience, but not destroyed. We are wounded but not defeated. We are sad but not slain. So on this anniversary, we remember and shed tears but we will never, ever forget!

And By His Stripes We Are Healed…

2010-08-06T00:13:00.006-04:00

As I finished writing my name on the sign in sheet at my doctor’s office, I turned to make that all-important decision. I had to make a split second decision before anyone noticed me hesitating. Who looked the least contagious in the sea of germs that is a doctor’s waiting room? I scanned the room. I was definitely not going to take the chair beside the mother with two runny nosed kids. No offense but basic math said I had twice the chance of catching something over there. Okay, should I sit near the man with the hacking cough? Nah, for two reasons, one, I didn’t come in with a cough and two, he sounded like he was on a mission to cough up at least one of his lungs. I was not really feeling strong enough to see that! Well, that left one possible position. There was a sole woman sitting, quietly crocheting. She wasn’t coughing. She had no visible symptoms of illness. Maybe, like me, she was here just for blood work. Maybe she was having a well check. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t catch the dreaded H1N1 from sitting near her. I had almost run out of time to make my decision so I opted for the chair near her. She looked to be in her 70s. Your typical grandmotherly type, her glasses were perched precariously on the end of her nose but with no fear of losing them. Around her neck, she wore a beaded eyeglasses holder necklace. Her hands belied her age as they worked with the yarn in her hands. I slipped into the chair next to hers, hoping not to gain her attention. I had a book with me that I intended to get lost in as I waited for my turn. She glanced up, smiled and dropped her crocheting. As she reached up and removed her glasses from their position, I quickly realized that she intended to prevent my reading by having a conversation with me. Stubbornly, I opened my book, hoping that it would dissuade her.
“Is that a good book?” She asked me. Here was my chance.
“I don’t know yet but I’m dying to get started with it.” There, surely that would not encourage further conversation. I was wrong,
“I love to read and I’m always looking for new books to try. I’m a widow so I have plenty of time on my hands.” Well, there it was. I felt an unmistakable pang of guilt for having not wanted to talk with her. I closed the book and turned in my chair toward her.
“My mother tried to teach me to crochet when I was younger but I never could get the hang of it.” Her face lit up as she realized that I was going to engage her in a conversation.
“This will be the sixteenth scarf I’ve made this winter,” she announced proudly.
“Wow,” I answered. “Are you making them to sell?” I figured with that many under her belt; she had to have an outlet for them. No one would make that many scarves just for themselves.
“No, I make them to give away.” She answered. “Mostly to all of the people who take care of me, mostly my sweet nurses. I have four more to finish.” Intrigued by the large number of nurses that she mentioned, I asked,
“Are there that many nurses employed here?”
“Oh not just here, honey. I also go to the cancer center for my chemo.” Ouch, the pang was back.
“So you have cancer?”
“I did,” she announced proudly. “But I’m in remission now.”
“Thank God.” I offered.
“Yes, thank God, but He was the One who gave it to me too.” I could feel myself tense up and bristle. I felt a blame game starting and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with a senior citizen. I detest how people, all of us, blame God for everything and thank Him for very little, if at all. I set my mind for it and asked,
“Excuse me, what?” She smiled as if I had fallen into some invisible trap that she had set for me.
“God gave me cancer.” She repeated her unusual proclamation. The look on my face must have let her know that I was not amused with her ranting so she continued before I could speak again.
“Do you know Jesus Christ as your personal Savior?” She asked. What? How had she made that turn?
“Absolutely,” I answered still unsure as to where she was taking this conversation.
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I thank God for that and for giving me the courage to ask you that.” I didn’t know what to say. I was still curious as to her earlier statement about God giving her cancer. Again, she took my silence as an opening to continue our conversation.
“You see, I’m in my 70s (I had guessed correctly) and I’m retired so I don’t run into a lot of people. I’ve always been a little too shy for my own good too.”
“She thinks she’s shy?” I wondered but didn’t interrupt her.
“I prayed and asked God to give me the courage and the opportunity to witness for Him. I’m ashamed to say that I never used to witness like we Christians are supposed to so when I found out that I had breast cancer, I was terrified and prayed for God to heal me. It was then that I realized that He had given me a mission ground. Now, I get to witness to every doctor, nurse and other chemo patients that I run into on this journey.” My silence this time was disbelief. She smiled even bigger and added, “I’ve prayed with two of my nurses for them to receive Christ as their Savior and several others have shared prayer requests with me. I pray with them and have their requests written in my Bible so that I can continue to pray for them later. God gave me cancer to give me courage and the opportunity to further His Kingdom. He isn’t through with me yet. As long as He leaves me here, I’m not going to waste anymore time, ever.” Again, I was stunned into silence. Ouch, another pang hit me. This pang was one of shame, not guilt. Would I have to be struck with cancer before I had the courage to witness? Emotions and questions raced through me head. I offered a prayer asking God to forgive me for my selfish, lazy attitude in witnessing for Him. All of these things were tumbling over in my mind, consuming my thoughts when a nurse appeared in the waiting room and called my friend back for her appointment. We exchanged goodbyes and smiles and then I was left in the waiting room with my thoughts and an empty chair beside me. Before long, my attention focused on the woman at the front desk, scanning the room as I had done earlier. As she neared the chair that my friend had just vacated, I took a deep breath, straightened in my seat and smiled at her, readying myself for the conversation I was about to initiate. I wasn’t going to wait for a bout with cancer to have the courage to proclaim my witness for Jesus Christ.

Greater Love

2010-02-15T02:26:00.001-05:00

Aww, Valentine’s Day. That special day of the year when our hearts and minds turn toward chubby angels in diapers with heart shaped arrows, cards with beautiful prose to proclaim our love, heart shaped boxes filled with chocolates, dinners out on the town and gifts, preferably those that come in small, black felt boxes. Granted, there are the skeptics and jaded among us who proclaim that this day was made up by the greeting card industry, just to increase sales. Of course, the stories of the origins of Valentine’s Day are as numerous as the people who were ahead of you in line for dinner on Sunday night. They seem endless. I wouldn’t attempt to declare which of them is the truth, but they do make for an interesting read. Regardless of the actual origins, today, it is what it is. It is the day that we have set aside to declare or re-declare our love for that special someone. Hopefully, you were able to be with the one you love to make this day special for both of you.
As happens, approximately every seven years, give or take a year because of Leap Year, Valentine’s Day was on Sunday. Inevitably, many preachers spoke on love as the topic for their messages this past Sunday. There are countless types of love, the love of a man and woman, the love of a parent and child, the love of lifelong friends, and the love of a Father to His children, just to name a few. John 3:16 tells us that “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” That, of course, is the ultimate love. God loving us enough to make a way for us to be redeemed from our sin so that we may spend eternity with Him. Nothing can compare to that love, ever. There’s another type of love that we need today, however, one that seems to be becoming extinct. One that is a commandment for us yet we seem to think of it as a suggestion, if we feel like or have time to do it, we might.
John 15:13 states “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” I’ve always thought that this verse meant that I literally had to physically die to show love for my friends. As you can guess, I’m a very literal person. I was reading this one day when it finally dawned on me. We are, by our very nature, selfish, self-centered beings. We tend to “look out for number one”. Laying down ones’ life can be as simple as cutting your neighbor’s grass without expectation of a payback. Laying down your life, and mine, means that we put someone else’s needs above our own. Believe me, it sounds much easier than it actually is. Sure, cutting grass is easy enough to think of, but how often do we actually choose to do that? How about letting the mother with two very tired, cranky kids in front of you in line at the grocery store instead of thinking to yourself, “I was here first, let her wait”? Laying down ones’ life can mean the supreme sacrifice. There are those among us who will die for the cause of Christ. They will be martyrs for the cause but we can all learn to live with that mindset. Oprah coined the phrase, “little acts of kindness” to describe this attitude. The movie, Pay It Forward, called it just that, paying it forward. God called it showing love. When’s the last time that we showed His love? When’s the last time that we stopped in the middle of our busy days to try to make someone else’s day a little nicer? We who are Christians shouldn’t have to have Oprah or Hollywood movies tell us how to act. God has already commanded us to act. He has commanded us to love. After all, love is a verb. Do it!

The Big Let Down

2009-09-23T22:50:00.001-04:00

I heard the most amazing statement today. At first, I thought I heard it incorrectly. Maybe, I thought I heard this, but surely not. It was too profound and yet it stopped me cold with its simplicity. As I was cruising through my friends’ updates on Facebook, I noticed a video post. The word my friend posted below it merely said, “Speechless.” Needless to say, I was intrigued. I clicked on the link that led to a video called, God’s Chisel. It was a very simple video, only two guys, one portraying God and one portraying, well, it could have been any one of us. The man cried out to God to make him more like Him. Then he confessed that he was afraid he couldn’t live up to being like God. He was terrified of letting God down. God said plainly, “You never held me up.” Wow! That’s when it hit me: when we cry out to God for forgiveness of our sins, we beg Him to forgive us for letting Him down. We attach human qualities and attributes to the love of God, as if He judges by the same pitiful standards that we do. We believe that by our sin, we’ve caused God to think less of us, feel less for us, or love us less. Impossible! There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can cause God to be ‘let down’ by us. The notion of being let down comes from the idea of holding someone up. We have never been the ones to hold God up and, therefore, cannot let Him down. We hold Christians, preachers, teachers, police officers, parents, children, friends and even some politicians to a higher standard on earth. We believe that these people are not allowed the luxury of failing and if they do, they cause us to doubt their passions and motives from the very beginning and disappoint us by their godlessness. We conceitedly and callously think they owe us something because they failed us. We forced them to a place that they were not ready or even willing to go and then we berate them for failing us. How completely backwards! Have we ever stopped to think that it is in those very moments of failure that it is our responsibility to look past the sin, the failure, the disappointment and reach out with love and tenderness to help restore our fallen to their proper place? No man, woman or child can survive forever under the scrutiny of living on a pedestal. We assign that position to them out of our own fears of failure. We believe that if we look up to them, they can show us the way. They can guide us better because they are higher above us and can see further down the path. This is a precarious position in which to live. You see, the higher the pedestal, the longer the fall from it. With so much heavy inspection, the pedestal will come crashing down, idol and all. When we assign someone–anyone—a place of such honor, we’ve replaced God with that person. We’ve committed idol worship. We’ve broken the First Commandment. No one, not our spouses, our children, our jobs, our churches, our ministries, our own bodies or our pursuits of happiness can replace God and there still be true worship for the Almighty God in our hearts, no matter how many songs we sing, hands we raise or Bible studies we attend. God’s love for us is unconditional. There was nothing that we did to earn it and consequently, there is nothing we can do to lose it. He loves me. He loves you. He loves each one of us right now as much as He ever has or ever will. His love has no beginning and no ending. It has no conditions. His love is perfect and complete. When we fall into the habit of trying to assign human characteristics of love to God, we don’t let Him down, we let ourselves down. We realize how little we know of true love, giving or receiving it. We believe it is a feeling that can change as easily as the direction of the wind. We forget that love is a verb. It is an action. It is a decision. It is a commitment. If we would learn to see the Cross as the definition of love, instead of what Hollywood and Hallmark would have us believe, we would begin to understand how to truly love. God decided to love us, committed to save us from our sin and acted by His death as our substitute so that we wouldn’t have to face death and condemnation. God is love. He is the living, breathing, acting definition of love. He isn’t waiting with a down turned frown and words of reprimand for us to fail, He’s waiting with open arms of love, waiting for us to get over ourselves and come back to where we belong, in His loving embrace, where He holds us up and will not and cannot ever let us down.

Finding God in a Chinese Restaurant

2009-08-18T14:04:00.002-04:00

We buzzed with excitement as we moved to the table the hostess indicated. Allison had just graduated from college and we were so proud. She had chosen a Chinese restaurant in which to have her post graduation celebration. Everyone was there; mom, daddy, finance, sisters, brother-in-law and nieces. Laughter and smiles were everywhere. As we settled in to our respective seats, conversations became full of questions like, “What are you having?” and “Do you want to order an appetizer?” In the busyness of making food and beverage choices, four years old Marley became quite preoccupied with her latest discovery: chopsticks. It was no surprise that the adults missed her question for the first three or four times she asked.
“Can you show me the right way to use these?” she asked. Her countenance was serious as she concentrated on how to use the chopsticks. Over and over again, she asked, going from one grandparent to the next and one aunt to another. Finally, she was able to capture some of the adults’ attention. Once more, she asked, “Can you show me how to eat with these?” She received answers that ranged from “I never have been able to figure those out” to “I have no idea”. Her countenance dropped, she wanted to use the chopsticks. She wanted to overcome this new challenge. Then like a candle lighting the dark, her face was bright and full of a smile.
“My daddy can show me. He knows everything,” she proudly announced. Suddenly, we were all aware of Marley. Our gaze passed from her to her father who stopped midsentence in discussing his latest work tale and turned to his daughter. As quick as lightning, a huge smile spread across his face and danced in his eyes. His full attention was focused on teaching his daughter how to use her chopsticks.
As I sat there watching her daddy’s face almost burst with palatable pride, I wondered. I wondered, do we ever brag on our Heavenly Father the same way that Marley just did her father? When’s the last time we looked at our circumstances and announced proudly, “My Father can do this for me!” or “My Dad will take care of this new challenge in my life.” I wondered when was the last time that I had felt as confident with God caring for me and wanting to show me the right way to go as Marley was with her daddy. Then, a much more sobering thought passed through my mind. When was the last time that something I said about my Heavenly Father made him smile like Marley’s dad just did? Are my words of praise as sweet to my Father’s ears as Marley’s were to hers?

Firsts

2009-07-20T22:44:00.009-04:00

Firsts can be amazing...your first new bike as a kid, your first day driving with your new license, your first kiss. Yes, firsts are wonderful. They are the beginning of something; something new and exciting. Remember the butterflies you had in your stomach when you went on your first date? Firsts: exciting, thrilling, breath-taking, nerve racking. I believe God intended for us to have all those feelings before we begin something. He wants us to be thrilled, excited, nervous, overwhelmed with the idea of possibilities. I believe He was filled with some of those same emotions on that first day...you know, THE very first day, ever. "And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. God saw that the light was good..." Sure, He already knew the beginning from the end and every possible thing in between, but it says that He saw that the light was good. Perfect. A perfect creation by a perfect God and still He chose to look upon it before deciding that it was good. Have you ever wondered why? I'm not claiming to have that knowledge but you have to wonder if, when He set the firsts in motion, if He could already feel the pain of our rejection...a first for Him.
You see, not all firsts are wonderful. Some are downright awful! I have a friend who remembers going to kindergarten and getting paddled for misbehaving on the very first day! You can imagine how excited he was to go back, right? What if your first love breaks your heart? That first isn't one you'd readily sign up to go through again. No, not all firsts are waited on with bated breath. For those who mourn over the death of a loved one, every first brings pain. The first Mother's Day without mom. The first Father's dad without your dad opening yet another tie. The first Christmas without. The first birthday, uncelebrated. Pain. Loneliness. Hurt. Tears.
Why would a loving God put us through all of that? Doesn't He understand how deeply it cuts us, all the way to our core?
Yes, He understands. He feels more than we can even imagine. He feels every joy and hurt, hears ever laugh and cry, sees every smile and tear. He knows how we feel because He feels it too. When we laugh, He laughs. When we cry, He cries. Every emotion we could ever possibly go through, He knows. He knows and shares with us. Hebrews 4:15 (NIV) promises us this: "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet was without sin."
Firsts don't scare God. They don't surprise Him either. He has no fear of the unknown for there is no unknown for Him. He knows. He cares. He loves. He mourns with us during every bad and rejoices with us during every good. Whether it's a first tear at the birth of a child or the first tear at the death of a loved one, He knows.

Of Mice and Men

2009-06-20T23:41:00.013-04:00

As we celebrate our fathers today, I must share my story with you. Before we begin, happy father's day to all the dads out there!

Now, our tale begins at roughly 2:50AM Saturday morning but first, I need to bring you up to speed. In recent years, I've had increasing trouble with being able to wind down and go to sleep at the end of the day. Some days, I'm just too wound up from a busy day and some days, I have too much 'stuff' running through my mind. Either way, I tend to have a tough time going to sleep. This condition invariably causes late night channel surfing or computer card games, or sometimes, both. Last night was one of those nights. After channel surfing didn't help to bore me to sleep, I decided that, surely, a few tries at Spider Solitaire would definitely do it. That brings us to where the story begins. Picture it, late night (or early morning, depending on how you like to look at it), the constant flickering of the muted television, a small bedside lamp burning through the darkness of the night and the soft glow of my laptop laying on top of the bed. I had just made a stunning move on the game and was feeling pretty sure that I would win this round. In other words, I was way too into the computer! Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark shadow zip in front of the mirror that is visible from my bed. Naturally, I thought I was finally getting sleepy enough that I was imagining things. However, I've seen one too many horror flicks to just let it go...oh, how I wish I had!

Slowly, I inched over to the side of the bed to prove to myself that there was nothing there. If this had been a Freddy or Jason movie, I would have been the stupid, curious white girl who decides to check out the noise coming from the abandoned barn while precariously balancing on high heels! You know, the chick that bites it in the first 5 minutes of the movie, that would have been me.

That's when I saw him! He shot back across the floor to hide behind my entertainment center. I've affectionately named him Saddam Hussein. Since he terrorized me, it seemed fitting. Saddam is a field mouse! A mouse in my house! Oh my goodness! It was all I could do not to lose control of my bladder right there in my bed! So there I sat, fighting my urge to scream and tickle at the same time and not knowing what to do otherwise.

Maybe I imagined that too, right? No way there's a mouse in my house! I'm just sleep deprived. I almost had myself convinced and calmed down, almost, that is until the little devil shot out from behind the entertainment center and UNDER MY BED! I'm not sure how many of you, as children, believed with all of your heart, like I did, that any monster that might be hiding under your bed would swiftly and quickly grab you and drag you straight to hell if you let your feet, arms or any other part of you hang off the bed or if you tried to make a run for it. I was even convinced that the shark from Jaws could somehow miraculously live without water under my bed and waited for me like I was chum in the water! Amazing, no matter how grown up you get, when there's a 'monster' under the bed, you're seven years old all over again!

Back to my dilemma, what was I gonna do about Saddam? After what seemed like an eternity, I decided to take my chances at escape. I am a little bigger now than I was at 7, so surely, I could fend of any attacker dragging me to the dark abyss, right? I pulled up into a crouching position in my bed and leaped for the door that led upstairs to where my parents were sound asleep. I'm not sure if I took the stairs two at a time or three. All I know is that I was banging on the bedroom door in less than a minute.

My poor father, it's a wonder that I didn't cause him to have a heart attack. I babbled incoherently about the gigantic rat that was taking over my house! Amazingly, not only had the vermin grown in size, but he had changed species as well. Is there ever a good way to wake up at 3AM? This was not one of the best ways, that's for sure.

My father, now my savior and hero, jumped into action as soon as he could get the sleep out of his eyes. Like a warrior, he went to battle for me. He was armed with a flashlight and a strong sense of protectiveness. I supported him (actually, watched from a distance) as he searched like Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. He looked high and low and then in a blast of arrogance, Saddam shot past him and made a break for it! Now, if you know my dad, you know that he protects the home against invaders of the rodent kind like a mother lion over her newborns. The search was on! At 3AM, he's pulling storage boxes out from under the bed and clearing clothes from the closet. He left no stone (or shoe or book) unturned. When he couldn't find Saddam in person, he decided to lure him out. In a matter of minutes, I had 6 well baited mouse traps placed strategically around the apartment. Needless to say, I did not spend the night in the apartment. My dad, my hero, not only gave up sleep in the middle of the night to stave off my stalker, but he helped me carry my pillows and blankets to a safe place to rest my weary head. We still haven't found the vile creature, yet, but I know my dad will. He's relentless. He will make it safe for me again.
Any man can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a daddy. A real man, a true daddy, will give up sleep, time, or money for his family. My daddy, my protector, my hero and my mouse killer. He'll always be the number one man in my life! Happy Father's Day, Daddy!
Love your little girl, Angie

Rebellion!

2009-06-01T22:07:00.007-04:00

I read a quote today that made me think. "Learning is always rebellion...Every bit of new truth discovered is revolutionary to what was believed before."-Margaret Lee Bunbeck. Let that sink in a minute. What images pop into your head when you hear the word rebellion? Tattoos, piercings, alternate lifestyles, stealing, breaking the law, dropping out of high school? Have you ever considered education as a rebellion? Yeah, me neither. James Dean didn't pose with a textbook, it was a t-shirt and a motorcycle and he was the face of rebellion in the 50s. When did we lose sight of how to truly rebel? When did we decide to quit thinking for ourselves. We accept whatever truth that the loudest voice says. How do we know what the truth is?
Throughout history, it has never been the deviants who have led the greatest rebellions, it has always been those who choose to learn. Martin Luther was one of the world's biggest rebels, all because he choose to dig deeper intellectually rather than to accept what the Roman Catholic Church taught as truth. His education led to his rebellion from the accepted. His biggest rebellion? He translated the Bible from Latin to the language of the common people. He gave them the ability to educate themselves instead of having to accept what was being told to them by the controlling faction or by him. Can you say the same thing about yourself? When is the last time that you questioned the norm in an effort to become more educated; to become a rebel? Ironically, those who choose to do what everyone else is doing are in fact, part of the norm; the straight and narrow path. The mere fact that one chooses to follow blindly instead of questioning is the very action of being part of normal society. A bit of a slap in the face there, huh? The next opportunity that you have to make a choice, scare the world to death; make an education decision. Your rebellion may lead us all to a better community!

Comments, anyone?

2009-03-30T04:46:00.008-04:00

Hello Friends!

I just wanted to drop a quick line to say "Thank You" to those of you who follow my blog. My prayer is that through shared experiences, we all grow closer to the Lord. I am honored that you have chosen to follow my blog and appreciate the encouraging comments that I receive. I do read them. If you're moved to thought by something I've written, please take a minute and share that with me. I'm do not want to be a single voice "crying in the wilderness", I want to know what you would like to know and what you think about as well. I'd like to know you better. Thank you again for following. Hope to hear from you soon!
Angie

Come out and fight like a man!

2009-03-25T22:23:00.004-04:00

GRRRRR!!!! I hate how the battlefield for everything is our minds! When we battle Satan, our own selfish will, our own greed; everything, it's always in the mind where we struggle. I've pondered why so many times that it has made my head hurt. Ironic, huh? Have you ever been mentally tired? Just ready to grab your head, scream and run for the darkest corner? I have. I feel that way now. Satan is, I begrudgingly admit, smart. There's no way that he could drive us as crazy as he can be planting a thought and walking away. Ingenious old devil. He knows that if he hangs around in plain site, we will fight. None of us who have committed our life to Christ would dare back down from our enemy in a face to face battle. What a disgrace that would be! No, he's been around long enough to know that he needs to bob and weave when it comes to setting us up. Too obvious and we'll catch on. Too subtle and we may actually miss the trap he set for us. No, he plays dirty. Heck, he invented playing dirty. He sets us up with the tiniest of thought and then allows it to grow, knowing that our brains and our egos and our own prejudices and self-esteem issues are more than fertile enough ground to grow a bumper crop. All of this happens while he slips away, snickering at us; at our failures, at our faults.

Everyday, we are bombarded with his trash. It's not the obvious that you should concern yourself with the most. We know what porn can do to marriages, we know what sex outside of marriage will do to the individuals involved. Affairs destroy families. Abortions kill babies and leave would be mothers with a void as deep and dark as a black hole in space. Drugs, alcohol; you name it and most of us can give you the list of every unavoidable destruction that each life while experience. No, my friend, it is not the "big" sins that you need to guard against. By the way, who colored lies and classified sins as big or small? ALL of our sins nailed Christ to that cross. No sin is worse or better in His eyes. If you think differently, imagine looking in His blood stained face and arguing with Him about that. Back to the subject, it's always the small things that cause the "big" sins. It's been that way from the beginning. Eve didn't set out to sin against God and cause the whole world to suffer the consequences of sin, she was manipulated into thinking how good the fruit looked for food. David took a second glance on a bathing woman, causing him to burn with desire for another man's wife and that caused him to become a murderer! Judas was angry that Jesus wouldn't overthrow the government so he believed he could force Jesus' hand to action. Even the soldiers at the foot of the cross, gave into their greediness. They were literally an arms length from salvation for their souls and chose to gamble for a piece of cloth instead of reach for a Savior! All of these things started as a thought, in the mind. Satan may be a cunning adversary, but he is one other thing as well. He is a coward. He won't stand face to face and fight because he knows that the battle is the Lord's and he would not win. No, the coward lurches in the shadows and like a bully, waits for his next victim to come along. Don't be a victim! Today, think on whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-THINK ABOUT SUCH THINGS. Take every thought captive to Christ and that timeless dark devil will lose before he knows what happened. We can truly live free for ourselves and from him, if we choose to live hidden in Christ!

Battle on, my friend!
Angie

Give us this day our daily bread...

2009-03-18T01:23:00.008-04:00

Matthew 6:9-13 (NASB)..."Pray, then, in this way: 'Our Father who is in heaven. Hallowed by Your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done. On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil. [For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.']

You've never really thought too much about it, have you? Yeah, me neither. Don't get me wrong, I've prayed it, I've recited it, I've even cross stitched onto a bookmark, but have I ever really thought about what the words mean? Not until recently, I haven't. Then, it happened. The economy has affected everyone, including the church. When no one has a job, no one tithes. When no one tithes, there is no money in God's house. When there's no money...well, I think you get the picture. So, that means I'm one of the ones who got the half boot. I say "half boot" because I was cut to part-time, not let go completely. Hummm, doesn't really feel all that different though. Truth is, cut is cut. Which brings us to our title..."Give us this day our daily bread". When you've lost the ability to fend for yourself, you feel alone. It's amazing how quickly your "friends" forget your phone number when you have the "plaque" of being unemployed. They don't want to catch it, I guess. What's even harder is when you've worked in the ministry and lost your job. What's the toughest of all is when you helped to start the church where you were employed and still get cut out of it. Talk about your rude awakening! Not only do you feel like your friends have left you, you begin to wonder if God has also. Now that's feeling alone!

Talk about your world getting rocked! I've been in a surreal state of mind for weeks now. Is this really happening? Who made this stupid decision? Why me? What about so and so? He sucks at his job! Why not the slacker? Why not cut the salaries of everyone and allow all of us to keep our jobs? I guess I've wondered everything that can be wondered. Now, back to the real issue at hand. What does this daily bread thing REALLY mean?

As I've searched and prayed and yelled and cried out to God, a few things have begun to become clearer. I've always been an ant. No, I didn't misspell it, I meant to type ant, not aunt. I'm an ant. I work hard to prepare for the coming winter. While the grasshoppers are bouncing around frolicking in the sun all summer, we ants are hard at work, heads down, noses to the grindstone, storing up for what's coming. I've learned three things about us ants...the first, the grasshoppers will always show up our doorsteps looking for the basics in order to live through the winter at the first snowfall. Secondly, as ants, we will always feel obligated to help the grasshoppers out. Thirdly and finally, because ants will always get the job done, we are overlooked and easily dismissed because we don't have to frantically scrounge around to get the job done. Stinks, but there it is. Now how does that relate to our subject? Being an ant and being unemployed?!?!?! Oh my goodness! How can this be?!?!?! God, what do I do now?!?!?!?

That's when it started to dawn on me..."give us this day our daily bread". Yep, the economy stinks. Yep, I've got incredibly hurt feelings with my church. Yes, the whole thing has caused so many staff members at my church to fall off of their pedestals in my eyes. Yep, that makes me angry. Yep, I want to give up on ministry. Yep, I want to give up on God, no wait a minute. No, no it has not made me give up on God. He has done too much for me to give up on Him. Salvation alone would have been more than I ever could have hoped for yet He made us promises for this life too! Can you believe that? It's inconceivable, yet it's true. I've placed it all in His hands. I've always been the ant with His ministry as well; head down, work to do. I've never questioned what He wanted, I've just worked and followed "the rules", knowing that it would all work out well because He would honor my diligence. Now, however, I'm learning what Jesus meant when He told us to pray for our daily bread. Grasshopper, ant...it doesn't mean anything to Him. He has it all. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He promised to take care of me. I've put each day in His hands. He's fully aware of my budget needs. He knows when the bills are due. He can't get out of taking care of me. He has obligated Himself to each of us, if we have given our lives to Him, to be our Provider, our Strength, our Strong Tower, our Avenger, our Father. He's taking care of me each day. He has provided work so that I can earn a living with which I honor Him with the first fruits of that labor going back to Him. Sure, I could take this scary economic time and say that I can't tithe because I may not have any more money coming in, but that's not faith. In faith, I give back and in His promises, He takes care of my every need. He is worthy of our praise and worship. Honor Him with your life, your heart and your soul and He will take care of everything you need.

Angie

How many times do I have to hear before I listen?

2009-03-06T00:18:00.005-05:00

Okay, I've got to admit that God is nothing if not persistant. I'm in the middle of one of those valley experiences as the religious groups like to call it. The world would say that I am trying to "redefine" myself. Who cares what you call it? The fact is, it stinks because none of us likes to be stretched, tested or grown. However, that is exactly what the Christian life is all about. Jesus saves us right where we are, in all the muck and mire that we have spent weeks, months or years rolling around in and He picks us up, cleans us up, forgives us and gives us hope for an abundant life here and an unbelievable life after death. Why He would choose to give His life to make it possible for us, I have no idea. But He did and He does everyday. Recently, I've been praying for God to show me what in the world He has planned for me. I feel tossed and turned like a boat on the ocean, unable to find the North Star to lead me home. I've never been strong in the faith area. As an adult, it's been just me to take care of me. I've never married, so if the car breaks down, I'm the one who has to figure out how to get it fixed. If there's an unexpected expense, I'm reworking my budget into the late hours of the night to come up with a way to take care of it. I've always had one person to fall back on and that person would be...me. You know the expression, "be careful what you wish for"? Well, take it from me, be careful. I've always envied people who have a strong gift of faith. They seem to be able to give their problems to God and then just wait on Him to act. How can they do that?!? Where are the feet that we are suppose to put into action in order for the prayers to be answered? Just in case you are thinking, "God helps them who help themselves", you and I both are wrong. That phrase is from a movie, The Bells of Saint Mary, if I'm not mistaken. Back to what I need to share. I now find myself in the position of not being able to fall back on me to provide and protect me. That is a terrifying place to be. That means that I have to depend on God for every moment of every day to get me through this period of time. Terrifying! I know that God will take care of others. I have no doubt that when I pray for my family and my friends that God will provide exactly what they need at exactly the perfect time. But to be perfectly honest, I'm not 100% sure about that for myself. Why can't I believe the same things for me? Then, over the past week, God has been trying to tell me something. I admit that I'm slow sometimes, I just didn't realize that I was so headstrong against hearing. I've been told or heard the following sentence 3 times in the last 5 days. This is what God has been whispering in my ear, the thing I wouldn't hear..."To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did." I've always marveled at Christians who display amazing faith. There's a reason that the Bible has the book of Job and not the book of Angela. I wouldn't have had the faith to continue to hang in there without questioning God as to why He hated me so badly. Nope, Job just trusted in faith that God had a plan that was bigger than Job's pain. Talk about a man of faith! Since I've never been strong in faith, apparently God has decided that it's time to grow me. I know the results will be mind boggling. However, in the mean time, I dread the stretching. Growth always hurts. Babies cry when their teeth grow in. Athletes have muscle cramps when they are building up their frames. Women lose their figures and get stretch marks in order to bring life into the world. When I was a child I remember having terrible leg cramps that the doctors said I would just have to grow through and endure until I reached my full height. Growth is hard, no doubt. Yet, without growth, we become stunted and can actually lose the desire to grow. We, like plants that in are too small of containers, actually begin to believe that we cannot grow anymore. It's a lie that Satan loves to tell us and it's easy to believe. So readers, my growth spurt has started. If it's going to happen, then there is no way, except for God to make it happen. It's truly in His hands because I can't do this one. My journey has begun...

Our Young Heavenly Father

2009-01-28T21:35:00.011-05:00

I was recently reading a friend's "25 Interesting Things About Me" list on Facebook when I was struck silent with awe at the thought he raised. Our Father is sinless, completely perfect in every way. The reason that we age and wrinkle and grow feeble and frail is because of the curse of sin; the unrelenting grip of our own evil. God has never sinned. The thought that struck me so deeply in my heart was realizing that due to His sinlessness and our sinfulness, our Father is younger and more youthful than we. As sin causes us to age and wither, His sinless beauty causes Him to remain as He has always been; young, youthful, sinless, strong...perfect. You've probably always imagined our Father as old with white hair and a long flowing beard. In your mental picture of God, do you see Him sitting contently on His throne, rarely rising from that perch? How mislead we have been! As we force ourselves from bed each day, the stress of yesterday is waiting to grab us once again. We are instantly in a fight for our lives and our enemy refuses to let up...and he plays dirty. He, Satan, has masterfully orchestrated a cunning plan to destroy God's most precious creation, His children. While we continue down the path of life that will eventually lead us to our grave and then to our Father, Satan waits. He slithers around like the stealthy snake depicted in the Garden of Eden, waiting for one of us to let down our guard, allowing him an opportunity to attack. He knows that we are too tired to fight back. Satan knows because he is the one who set that trap for us. He has set us up for a losing battle because he has caused us to overbook our lives with busyness, appointments, practices and meetings so that the last thing we think about doing is relaxing with our Father in prayer and Bible reading. He has caused us to separate ourselves from our source of strength and he has done it so skillfully that we don't even realize that we are the ones who have done it to ourselves. The life we demand to lead, the life that causes us to work more out of greed and sleep less because we have to keep up with the Joneses, is killing us, slowly. He knows that by causing each of us to sin and age, he causes our Father immense pain. We are the conduit through which Satan jabs his weak weapons at our Strong Tower. Can you, as a parent, image watching your child age past you? Your offspring losing the strength to run and jump and play while you still possess those abilities. Would you not do anything within your power to prevent that from happening? Any parent would. Our Parent did. He sent our Brother, Jesus Christ, to live a sinless life here on earth and then to sacrifice Himself on the cross, therefore breaking sin's death grip on us. All we have to do is accept it. Accept that sacrifice. Then, one day when our Dad takes us home to heaven, we will all be like Him; strong, young, sinless...perfect.

Our Leadership

2009-01-20T14:29:00.004-05:00

With each day, history is made. No day can or will be repeated identically, good or bad. So many times, we complain that everyday is the same; work, laundry, errands, dinners, baths...then start all over again in the morning. Even the awesome days; the days when we're on vacation at Disney World, or the day that all the stoplights are green on the way to work, or you receive a raise or your hubby remembers to take out the trash without being nagged, are never repeated exactly. Everyday is history. However, some days are more historical than others. Today is one of those days. As Barack Obama is sworn in as our new president, history is being made. Some people are overwhelmed with joy and validation at his election, others are disillusioned and bitter. History, however, should never be judged by the failings of human emotions. Emotions will allow for prejudices to bleed through. Emotions will allow for a sense of superiority to eek in. Emotions will allow for personal feelings of revenge to overcome the day. Today, let us not look at this historical moment with feelings of personal prejudice or revenge. If we are to truly be "one nation, under God", then we are to come together and leave the emotions behind. God has never called us as Christians to LIKE anyone but He has called us to LOVE everyone. On this day, let us truly come together, united, with love for one another. It's 2009. It is time to put away the evils of generations past and look to the future, color blind. It is time to come together as one instead of bickering among ourselves. Whatever your personal emotions on this day, let us remember that we are required to pray for our leaders. 2 Timothy 2:1-2 says, "I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone---for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness." I urge you to be strong in the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and pray for President Obama and all those who he has and will appoint to lead our nation. The responsibility for what they do with their authority will be upon their shoulders; the responsibility for praying for them will be upon ours.

In His palms,
Angie

Changes in the blink of an eye

2009-01-08T00:01:00.006-05:00

We've all heard the expression, "Life can change in the blink of an eye.", but what do you think of when you hear it? If you are like most of us, we think of the negative: a car wreck, an accident at work, a devastating diagnosis from the doctor, a death. But how many of us look for our lives to change in the blink of an eye...FOR THE GOOD? Recently, I've become very aware of how quickly life can change and that the change can be a good, or even great thing. Look at what the change could be...the phone call that gives you the job for which you've prayed so much. How about the second you hear the news that you are in remission? For some, that blink in time is when you vow "I do". For others still, the moment when you realize that you just missed making that light and you see the car that would have plowed into you had you punched the gas. The fleeting moment when you first know that you are going to have a baby. Of course, the very second that you ask Jesus Christ to forgive you is a moment in time to alters every other moment after that for all of your life and your eternity. Then, there is the moment that all of us who are Jesus filled Christ followers who long for THE blink of the eye. The very second that our Savior will return to call us home to be with Him in Heaven, forever. I long for that moment with a constant hope that it's not this second. I don't wish for the delay for selfish reasons, well, maybe they can be considered selfish. I pray for the delay for you, if you don't know Christ as your personal Savior. I pray for the delay so that you have another moment in which you can choose Him, He chose you oh so many years ago when He dragged that brutal cross up that cruel hill to die a death that was meant for you and me. He choose in that moment in the Garden of Gethsemane to change our futures. His moment became the moment we were allowed to have the choice to make the change in our lives. If you want to make that moment this one, pray this prayer to your Savior.

Jesus, I know now that I am a sinner. I know that you came to this earth and lived a perfect, sinless life in order to die a death you didn't deserve so that I wouldn't have to die. I ask for you to come into my heart and life now and forgive me of my sins. I've led my life selfishly up until now and now I want You to be the Lord of my life. Thank you for the assurance that with this confession, I am now Yours and will go to Heaven when I die in order to spend eternity with You. Thank you. In Christ's name I pray, amen.

If you just prayed that prayer, your moment has come. You now belong to the family of God. You're forgiven! You're clean! You will spend eternity in Heaven with Christ! Congratulations, you were just changed in the blink of an eye. Now, find an alive and growing church to attend so that you may learn and grow in the decision you just made. Then, you too can pray for the delay in Christ returning because I know you will want the opportunity to tell others what has happened to you and that it can be their moment as well.

Welcome to our family!

Your sister, Angie

2009, the year of hope

2009-01-01T23:30:00.007-05:00

Baby New Year has arrived, bouncing with energy and brimming with hope. Hope, the universal truth to which all men cling. It is with hope that the soldiers wait for a cease fire. It is with hope that the unemployed search for jobs. It is with hope that the hungry brace themselves against the cold as they wait in soup kitchen lines. It is with hope that America awaits Obama's presidency. Hope, the light that makes the dark nights just slightly brighter. Hope, the thing that Jesus Christ gives to each of us. Jesus told us "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10b). So many times we look around at our circumstances as an individual, as a group or as a nation and think that it is hopeless. Nothing could be further from the truth. Have life to the full! It is time for us as God's children to quit begging for table scraps from this world and do what Christ has told us to do. We need to look up for our hope. We must take our eyes off of the surroundings with it's ugliness and temporary moments and stare intently into the eyes of our Savior for our hope. It is through faith in Him that we find our true hope and in finding our true hope, we find life...to the full.

Looking forward to a full 2009 with you,
Angie

I resolve to....make no resolutions!

2008-12-31T13:02:00.010-05:00

Let me be the first to wish you a happy new year!

New Year's Eve, the night we do everything bad for us so that tomorrow we will have something to regret and resolve never to do again. Well, this year, I am breaking with the tradition. Oh, I'll still have black-eyed peas and collard greens for lunch tomorrow, that's a given. What I'm not going to do is make any resolutions. The very fact that a resolution depends on our own will power should tell us that most of them will be broken before the end of the day! This year, I plan on making a to do list. I know what you're thinking...'Not another thing that I have to do PLEASE!', but this is different. No, this list is to help us remember how much fun life can be. This year, I plan on enjoying each moment instead of wishing my life away. No more hoping for Fridays when Mondays can hold their own joys also. Check back tomorrow and see what kinds of things I've come up with and see if you'd like to add some or all of them to your 2009 to do list also!

Angie

2009? Already?

2008-12-29T00:53:00.004-05:00

As the Christmas week comes to an end, I can't help but think about the new year. 2009! Wow! It's hard to realize that a new year is already upon us. With every "new", God always us a do over. Every new minute, new hour, new day, new week, new month, new year always us the Christ-given privilege of grace. His mercies are new every day. We, as humans, hold on to yesterday's mercies as if God cannot be counted on to be there the next day. The ironic thing is that as we hold on to yesterday, fearing what tomorrow may hold, God is already there. He is never surprised by what we do or don't do. He is never caught off guard by something we ask of Him. No "new" surprises Him. As we look forward to 2009 with excitement and some trepidation due to the economy and new presidency, God is already there, waiting. What's He waiting for, you may ask. Us. His children. Our trust. He waits for us to believe and rely on Him in every second of every day of every week of every month in every year. As 2009 quickly approaches, place your future in His hands. After all, He already knows what the future holds...He's already there!

In His palms,
Angie