OH GOD!

© Jeanne E Webster- All Rights Reserved

Scene 1

Mary and Joseph lost track of their son, Jesus, a mere 12 year-old, on the way home from their temple visit in Jerusalem. Frantically searching for three days, they found him back in the temple in deep discourse with the rabbis. Quite distraught, they inquired why he had gone off on his own.

“…I must be about my Father’s business.” LUKE 2:49

Scene 2

While attending a wedding in Cana of Galilee, Jesus’ mother asked him to provide the guests with more wine before the barrel ran dry. “…mine hour is not yet come.” JOHN 2:4

Scene 3

Many years later, a Passover meal has been prepared in an upper room for Jesus and his disciples. Women possibly were present to facilitate the meal, including his mother. She had perhaps bid him “Shalom, my son” as he left the upper room, heading towards his destiny awaiting him in the garden of Gethsemane and later at Golgotha.
Did she remember his words as a child? “…I must be about my Father’s business.” Did she know to some extent what might lie ahead for her son? “…MINE HOUR IS NOT YET COME.” Is this his hour? Mary’s heart and spirit must have shuddered as she trudged home that evening.

Scene 4

A few hours later Jesus was standing before the high priest, arrested after being betrayed by Judas. His hour had come. LUKE 22:15-22, JOHN 18:1-14

Agonizing hours later, amongst the crowds, Mary catches a glimpse of a man struggling to carry a wooden beam that is strapped to his shoulders. This is surely a criminal off to his death on the hill called Golgotha. Surely.  No…wait!  THAT IS MY SON!

He is drenched with blood and sweat, glistening in the hot sun as it streaks down his brow, the remainder of his body one dark red mass. She frantically pushes and shoves those that separate them, but he is still far off. The din from the masses is deafening.

“Crucify him! Crucify him!” “We want Barabbas!”

Scene 5

Breathless and exhausted, Mary scrambles up the hill to the cross that holds her son with a mere three nails. Grabbing the cross to catch her balance, she looks up, trying to make eye contact with her son, one last time. HIS HOUR HAS COME!

The brutal leather-thronged whip has done its god-forsaken work on his head, shoulders and back. A torn mass of bleeding arteries and shredded muscles hang limply from that rugged cross. “Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother…” JOHN 19:25

Scene 6

The trial was over, the long agonizing walk to Golgotha concluded, the torture of an innocent man, the Son of God, was almost finished. The King of the Jews had been dethroned. Naked, stripped of all his glory and lifted up for all to see, Jesus looked down, searching. Through blood streaked eyes and excruciating pain, he saw his mother standing by. When Jesus therefore saw her, He said “Woman, behold your Son!” JOHN 19:26

For a few moments, close your eyes and envision this event: a dying son gasping for a glimpse of his mother…a mother in tears and overwhelming heartbreak, peering through the snarled, bloodied hair of her son, trying desperately to make eye contact.

“It is finished.” Bowing his head he gave up the ghost. John 19:30
(jew)

PRAISES

angel

 

 

Mighty God, While Angels Bless Thee

~Robert Robinson, 1774

 

Mighty God, while angels bless Thee

May a mortal sing Thy name?

Lord of men as well as angels,

Thou art every creature’s theme.

 

Lord of every land and nation,

Ancient of eternal days,

Sounded thru the wide creation

Be Thy just and endless praise.

 

Brightness of the Father’s glory,

Shall Thy praise unuttered lie?

Break, my tongue, such guilty silence!

Sing the Lord who came to die.

 

From the highest throne of glory

To the cross of deepest woe,

All to ransom guilty captives;

Flow my praise, forever flow!  Amen.

Mother, May I?

dollsskip

 

 

© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed

They arrived shortly after breakfast, during the respite between chores and my second cup of coffee. What a pair! Bright eyes bejeweled each precious face; a whisper of animation radiated from each creased smile. Was this a true aura, emanating from the remnants of the prominent role they had played in their owner‘s life? I believe it was. They had returned among the living after a seven-year closet hiatus, bearing memories and blessings to share with everyone. That might not seem long to you, but it was forever to a grieving family.

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You see, after Mother had passed on to a finer, gentler locale, the two dolls had callously become shrouded in a shock-and-woe blanket. Over the ensuing years, an innocuous event ripped through the family fabric, tearing its fragile foundation to shreds.

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It all began when Father realized he was quite ill at ease living alone. His children could not provide what his lonely spirit craved: companionship. He ached for the closeness of another human heart, someone who could love him deeply with a caring spirit. This desire eventually found succor in the love of a delightful woman. Remarriage showered his world with peace and joy, slowly releasing grief’s icy grip on his heart.

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Family and friends visited often, except for his two daughters. The presence of a stepmother had driven a wedge between them. The daughters rumored about that the new mother was throwing out everything their mother had held dear. Withholding their affections and contact with Dad was their way of saying, “We do not like this woman living in our mother’s house and sharing your life.” They stood resolutely in this position…for four long years.

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The new mother tried to tiptoe around their feelings, disturbing none of their mother’s possessions that remained in the back bedroom, now looked upon as the inner sanctum. She had entered it early on in the marriage and redistributed an assortment of cookbooks that gathered dust in the closet. Some books stayed, some donated to the public library, all with Dad’s oversight and permission. Inevitably, the one cookbook that meant the whole world to the daughters turned up missing. This innocent deed completely severed the final scrap of a relationship left between Dad and daughters. The vagrant book was found later but the damage had been done.

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Three years later, the new mother felt a stir within her spirit to dispel the sacredness of the bedroom, hoping to bring the light of day back into it. Lying low in the dimness of past days, it had gathered dust, spiders and mites. Braving the certainty of creepy-crawlies skittering up her back, she opened the door . . . and entered. Nothing happened! The walls did not come crashing down, the ceiling remained intact, and the room actually beckoned to her, “Come on in, dear one.”

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Peering through the dim early morning light, new mother’s eyes rested on a doll cradle nestled on the floor near Mother’s vanity. “How precious,” she thought. Stepping closer for further inspection, she spied a life-like doll staring back at her. It was then “Oh my!” escaped from her lips as another cradle, embracing another doll, suddenly appeared in view.

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“I think these babies need to get some fresh air and see the light of day,” and with that, she bore them tenderly out of storage and into the living room. Settling them in strategic spots, she stood back and admired these priceless little babes.

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You see, dear reader, these were special dolls to Mother and, after her own children had left home, they helped ease her loneliness. She had chosen them from a doll shop, opting for hair and skin colors to match her girls. She’d glance over at them as she worked in the bedroom or passed by in the hallway, smiling at them as if they were real, for the time being. Somehow, I believe they too felt they were real.

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After their special reappearance in the household, things seemed to go better for Father and the new mother. Family members warmed up to Dad’s new wife and found out she wasn’t really a conniving old woman after all. Sure, she would never replace their mother, but they knew she brought joy and love back into their dad’s life.

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I wonder if the presence of these two little ones somehow triggered forgotten, happy memories within the heart of this family, enabling them to accept the change that had been brought upon them. I would like to think so.

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{Based on a true life situation}

Happy Mother’s Day, 2014

 

Heavenly Lullabies

bible2

 

 

Heavenly Lullabies

 

© 2013 Jeanne E Webster.  All rights reserved

 

“Happy New Year!” is on its way; it’s knocking at the door.  Are we ready with some tried-and-true resolutions to spruce up the old BODY?   Weight loss, new job, quit smoking, kick the drugs and booze habit, smile more at the world, spend more time with the family, lean harder on the budget, sock more money away each month . . .these objectives will certainly tidy up our persona for a better year ahead. 

What about our spiritual features?  Are they on extended vacation from the divine practices and nourishment our sacred nature requires?   Hopefully not. The world distracts our focus away from godly nutrition, pleading instead to the louder more sensual intonations of our carnal nature.  Instead of developing a deeper faith in our Creator, we find ourselves tossed about, clinging to life on a slippery slope and being slapped by one fear after another.

Everywhere we look there is turmoil, anxiety, fear, tension, and dread.  What are we to do? Is this what life is all about?  To put it succinctly, NO!

Life is relying on the Lord for strength and sustenance in the physical body AND in the spiritual body. 

Jesus warns us to quit worrying about things that hinder our walk in the spirit. As Christians, we have precious encouragement, “Don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, for it will take care of itself.” (Matt. 6:34)

What’s He saying here? Do not worry or become over-anxious.  Ok, but why does He say this when all about us are fearful distractions? Are we looking in all the wrong places for help?

He adds:  Matt. 6:33: Don’t worry about what you will eat, what you will drink, or if you will be clothed.  Non-believers worry about those things!   “Seek FIRST the kingdom of God and His righteousness…and all your needs will be provided to you.”

In summation, Jesus tells us that God is still in charge of our lives; He knows our every need. “For your heavenly Father knows that you have need of these things.” (Matt. 6:32b)

What assurance! What RE-assurance! Our heavenly Father knows. Think about it. God is the creator of all things, even us, and planned the world’s itinerary from its beginning onward. And here we are, worrying about what’s going to happen tomorrow. “O ye of little faith!” (Matt. 6:30)

Phil. 4:6-7 “May I be anxious for nothing, and in all things by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, may I make my needs known to You; and I know that Your peace, which surpasses all understanding, will guard my heart and mind through Jesus Christ.  Amen.”

 

May the melodious wisdom of our Father saturate and strengthen our hearts and minds as we feast on His bountiful promises.  Let us relearn the heart songs of His Word as heavenly lullabies that trickle into our inner realm, releasing our fears and weaknesses. 

Joy to the world; the Lord has come!  Be refreshed!  Be renewed!  . . . by His peace and joy. 

Alleluia and Amen!

 

Today’s Outing

Doctor Speaking with Patient

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© 2013 Jeanne E Webster.   All rights reserved

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Newly surfaced parking lot

Soft comfy sitting room

Gracious discreet office staff–

Am stroking an aura of doom.

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Cheered into the inner sanctum

Doctor presents with a smile

Examines the mega complaint–

Encourages me after a while.

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Returned to the car, lauding

Weight lifted off shoulders

Holding new supply of remedies–

“Goodbye, darn ole boulders!”

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“May You be praised, my Father

May all the glory be Yours 

Decree over all Your Creation —

Peace and joy absorbed to the core.”

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NaPoWriMo   Day 16

One Seed

Young Mother Kissing Infant

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© 2013 Jeanne E Webster.   All rights reserved

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You are my brother, sister, mother

No matter what the creed

My aunt, uncle, or my father

We started from one seed

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You’ll never walk alone, my friend

We’re all just family

Take my hand, my heart, my all

Love will show the way

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God commands us love him first

Then love our fellow man

He sent his Son to put down sin

And let his glory shine.

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May God bless your heart and soul

Accept his gift of love

Christ is the ransom for your sins

Believe, be born again!

Day 4 NaPoWriMo