At the River

I can still hear her voice as she strummed her guitar and sang. The beautiful alto-earnestness, the love that she held there for the elderly folks who listened, the joy in heart that was so evident. 

She loved Jesus. And she loved those around her. She loved leading the Nursing Home Ministry those seemingly short years ago. 

Evie was a part of my life for so long. We served in church together. We sang together in the choir. She always had a kind word and a smile for me. She was unpretentious. She spoke simply and one knew that she could be trusted. 

Evie loved the Lord with all of her heart. I remember when she asked for help with the Nursing Home Ministry at church and I felt the Lord leading me to be a part of it. 

One of the greatest blessings in my life was being a part of that ministry. We would venture out on (I think) it was a Thursday night and we would mount up in a stuffy elevator to the third floor of one of the local nursing homes. She would lead the small group of people there in hymns with her guitar and then one of the men would give the salvation message. I think that I will always connect the song "Count Your Many Blessings" to Evie. She sang it with such earnestness and one could see that she truly wanted those men and women to come to know the Lord and that she loved them.

Her husband, Bob served on the Missions Committee with me and my sister. I remember his compassionate heart for the lost people of this world and it was a compassion that Evie shared, a compassion that reached out in faith and action.

Evie was a source of encouragement and grace in my life for so many years. Her Christ-like spirit shone so brightly and even in the past years when her health began to fail, she still had a kind word and a hug for those who came into contact with her. 

I heard about her passing into Glory on Thanksgiving day. It was late at night that my husband came into our room and whispered the news and the tears ran down my cheeks into the pillow. 

Evie was gone. Gone from this life, from this shadow, into the brightness of Glory. Glory. And she was, and she is-- with Jesus. Whole. Healed. Beautiful and bright and pure and perfect. 

And I cried because I was left and because I wanted to talk to her just one more time, to hear her strong alto voice just one more time, to see her there in the front of the church strumming her guitar just one more time. To hold the image of her smile there in my heart and to keep it always. 

But I will see her again. Soon. And the words of the old, beloved hymn came to my mind and they soothed my heart and played there--

Shall we gather at the river, 
where bright angel feet have trod, 
with its crystal tide forever 
flowing by the throne of God? 

Yes, we'll gather at the river, 
the beautiful, the beautiful river; 
gather with the saints at the river 
that flows by the throne of God. 
~Robert Lowry

And I know that I will see Evie again--precious, beloved saint--precious, beloved friend--at the river--the beautiful river, flowing with healing and grace from the throne of God.

And we will sing together to Him, when tears are no more and sorrow has passed.

There at the river. With Him. 

I love you, Evie, and I will see you again. 

Written in remembrance of Evelyn, beloved of Him. 


You might find me on these link-ups:


Strangers and Pilgrims on Earth, Inspire Me Monday, Literacy Musing Mondays, The Modest Mom, What Joy is Mine, A Mama's Story, Mom's the Word, Rich Faith Rising, Cornerstone Confessions, Mom's Morning Coffee, Raising Homemakers, Classical Homemaking, A Wise Woman Builds Her Home, Woman to Woman Ministries,  Testimony Tuesday, Tell His Story, Women With Intention Wednesdays, Messy Marriage,  Graced Simplicity, Children Are A Blessing, Imparting Grace, Thought Provoking Thursday, Soul Survival, Good Morning Mondays, The Weekend Brew, Counting My Blessings, The HomeAcre Hop, Mommy Moments Link Up, Grace and Truth Linkup, Faith Filled Friday, Tell It To Me Tuesdays, SHINE Blog Hop, TGI Saturdays Blog Hop, RaRaLinkup, Word of God Speak, Booknificent Thursday, Living Proverbs 31, Sharing His Beauty Blog Linkup, Coffee For Your Heart Weekly LinkUp, You're the Star Blog Hop, Homesteader Hop, Fresh Market Friday
  

Forgetfulness

For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth;

And the former shall not be remembered or come to mind.

But be glad and rejoice forever in what I create;

For behold, I create Jerusalem as a rejoicing,

And her people a joy.

I will rejoice in Jerusalem,

And joy in My people;

The voice of weeping shall no longer be heard in her,

Nor the voice of crying.

Isaiah 65:17-19 NKJV

The water was almost warm, delightful on our feet, its spray grasping the edges of our rolled up pants. 

We laughed and we watched a great kite soar over the expanse and the seagulls swooping low in the soft blanket of sky above, and the waves licking the salty sand, reaching and then drawing back. 

And then we sat on the ocean's sand and ate doughboys and licked sugar and sand from our fingers and delighted in the swiftly dipping sun casting golden shadows over the melting day, the delicious air cooling us off and playing with the ends of our humid-sticky hair. 

There, all of a sudden, a thought came. I had completely forgotten about a project that I had been working on. A project that was taking time and energy and that I was fretting over at times. I had completely forgotten about it in these delightful moments soaking in the beauty of the Lord's creation and majesty. 

I had forgotten.

Another day, and I was sitting on the porch swing, taking a short break from the heat with my 1-year-old on my lap while my 2-year-old daughter and my mom threw crumbs of bread to the sparrows sweetly hopping around on the grass. 

A little group of sparrows drew my eye. There they sat, a happy gathering in the golden afternoon sunlight, basking in the provision and protection of our yard, chirping and enjoying the beauty and peace of the late afternoon day. 

Thinking of nothing but their present contentment and safety. Forgetful of fear.

These isolated incidents, these cherished moments reminded me of a truth in the Scriptures and brought me comfort and joy. 

The truth of forgetfulness. 

Of the day that the Lord will wipe away every tear from our eyes, when we will behold Him in beauty and majesty and light . . . 

When we will no longer be able to remember the things that brought us sorrow and pain and suffering. 

When we will be like Him, gazing upon Him, worshiping Him, delighting utterly in Him.

Death will be swallowed up in victory. 

The former things will be remembered no more . . . no longer will they come upon the heart.  (Isaiah 65:17)

Free to worship. Free to praise. Free to know Him completely and without the distraction of sin and its effects. 

Free. 

And forgetful. 

Of hurts and tears and sighs and losses and sorrows and tears. 

Remembering His mercy, and delighting in His love for all eternity. 

You might find me on these link-ups:

Strangers and Pilgrims on Earth, Inspire Me Monday, The Modest Mom, What Joy is Mine, SDG Gathering, A Mama's Story, Mom's the Word, Rich Faith Rising, Time Warp Wife, Cornerstone Confessions, Mom's Morning Coffee, Motivate and Rejuvenate Mondays, So Much at Home, Raising Homemakers, Hope in Every Season, A Wise Woman Builds Her Home, Woman to Woman Ministries, Whole-Hearted Home, Testimony Tuesday, Tell His Story, A Soft Gentle Voice, My Daily Walk in His Grace, Women With Intention Wednesdays, Messy Marriage, The Charm of Home, Graced Simplicity, Theology Thursdays, Children Are A Blessing, Mittenstate Sheep and Wool, Imparting Grace, Preparedness Mama, A Look at the Book, Essential Thing Devotions, Thought Provoking Thursday, Every Day Jesus, Count My Blessings, Christian Mommy Blogger, Renewed Daily, Soul Survival, Good Morning Mondays, The Weekend Brew, Blessing Counters Link Party, The HomeAcre Hop, Mommy Moments Link Up, Grace and Truth Linkup, Faith Filled Friday, Saturday Soiree Blog Party, Tell It To Me Tuesdays, SHINE Blog Hop, Faith and  Fellowship Blog Hop, Motivate and Rejuvenate Monday Link-Up, A Little R&R Wednesdays. TGI Saturdays Blog Hop. Totally Terrific Tuesday, RaRaLinkup

That They May Have Life ...

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.
John 10:10

We drove to the animal hospital and I held death in my hands . . . 

A dying grass-blade of God's creation, her white breast quivering in the cavern of her ebbing life. 

A mourning dove, the representation of His peace, in the midst of the chaotic grip of pain and death. 

Her life sinking, he took the box and walked inside. 

And walked out later alone. 


And we had driven silently there; death is not a glib event, and I think of Legolas as he bowed his head and uttered that whispered benediction. 

A benediction of peace amidst the angry cacophony of death. 

I think of this desperate world, and all creation in bondage, and the inside of my soul weeps.

The dove, mourning, dying, attests to the bondage of creation--peace, life, in the grip of death. 

I think of how we choose death--and beautiful, sweet things are so casually mocked, manhandled, twisted.  

What is it about humanity that grips the ugly, that chooses the sarcastic and degrading and the despicable and gnaws on them like a filthy, greasy bone? 


What is it about humanity that chooses death?

That tosses aside the weak, that rejects what is physically or mentally unpalatable--the elderly, the retarded, the unwanted child? 

What is it that draws us to degrading humor and so-called "entertainment"? To 22-words-sardonism and conscience-numbing stupidity, to mindless cartoons that depict sweet, innocent animals and birds (part of God's beautiful creation) as "angry," sarcastic specimens that resemble the worst of what humanity is capable of, what I am capable of, without the grace of Christ? 

Death, clinging to us, clinging to our children, wrapping itself around our hearts through the media that we allow into our homes and lives for the sake of entertainment and a hollow laugh. 

We drain the cup dry like a cheap wine--and our debauchery chains us. 

I read about a man who enjoys photographing hawks in the city of Providence killing pigeons. 

And his "art" is  celebrated. 

Have you ever watched a hawk kill a pigeon? 

It's an ugly, slow process, the hawk's talons kneading the pigeon's body, while he struggles, still alive beneath the death-grip. 

Death is not a celebration--something to be delighted in, gaped at, fascinated by.

Death is what Christ came to abolish, why the nail-thorns were pressed into His brow--why He bled and ached and suffered. 

And hawks need to eat, but does someone need to take a picture of it?--just so that we can gape and gawk at a poor pigeon's agony? 

Gape at death. 

But sin, worketh death . . . 

Death of the conscience, death of the spirit, death of the soul. 

And death makes us callused and raw, manacles our souls--


Manacled my father's soul when he spit us out, rejected us, handed my Mom papers for a divorce. 

Did he care that he crushed us? That he left her with nothing--nothing but the mangled shards of a covenant that she faithfully held on to? 

Did he care?

Death had chained him, and he casually joked with his friends about "missing their lunch" when the court hearing dragged on too long. 

Death; death of the conscience, death of the soul. 

But Christ . . . 

  Came to give life, to free our souls from death--to crush the serpents's head and to silence the hawk's shrill death-cry forever. 

Came to give us life, life more abundant. 

So we choose life. 

Choose it for our homes, for our children, through what we allow into our lives and our hearts--

Things that make for beauty and peace and health of the soul. 

Clean laughter, the fellowship of the brethren, the joy-bliss of pure worship, the ache for our heavenly home, our hands free from clutching this wretched sinful world as our home--

Longing for the new heavens, the new earth--where the lion will lie down next to the lamb and the child put his hand in the viper's nest--unbitten. 

Where glory dwells,

And death is swallowed up in victory.