Welcome to Conversations at the Well

In Mark 6:31 Jesus gave an invitation to His friends. He said, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place..." My friend, I believe Jesus issues this same invitation to us today. Take off your shoes of busyness, take a deep breath and sit awhile at the well of His Word. It never runs dry and it is always available. Come. Come away by yourself to a quiet place...He is waiting there for you.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

A STOP IN BETHLEHEM


A STOP IN BETHLEHEM
…she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7

            The alarm rudely interrupted her sleep and she fumbled in the darkness until her fingers found the off button.  Silence filled the house once again with the exception of Andy’s soft snoring.  Beth groaned as she sat up.  “How on earth had she allowed herself to be talked into this?” she wondered to herself as she headed to the shower.  She stood in the shower willing herself to wake up as she recalled the conversation with her friends; the same conversation they had every year, and every year Beth laughed, told them they were crazy and then declined their offer. 
            She hurried from the bathroom to the closet where she quickly pulled on jeans and a sweater, selected comfortable shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on.  She glanced at the clock; the illuminated numbers mocked her as they announced the time: 3:55 AM!  Could it have really been just seven hours ago that she and Andy, Richard, Julie, Amy and John had sat in the living room downstairs sipping coffee in front of the fire after a wonderful Thanksgiving meal?  Amy and Julie began talking about all the great bargains they were going to find on their annual shopping trip the next day and Beth could see the invitation coming.  She had sat next to Andy giggling, already preparing to decline when she heard Andy say what a good idea he thought it was.  After all, money was a bit tight and it wouldn’t hurt to get in on some bargains.  “If it’s such a great idea why am I the one going shopping in the middle of the night?” she whispered.  The only reply was Andy’s snoring.  She pulled on her coat just as a car pulled into the driveway.  She peered through the blinds and saw Amy walking to the front door, so grabbing her purse she kissed Andy’s cheek and switched off the light as she headed downstairs.
            Beth opened the front door to find Amy standing on her doorstep smiling, holding out a travel mug with a bright red ribbon tied to the handle.  “I come bearing gifts,” Amy said with a soft laugh.  “It’s too early even for coffee,” Beth moaned as she stepped outside and turned to lock the front door.  Amy’s cheerfulness wasn’t dampened in the least by her friend’s lack of enthusiasm.  She continued holding out the mug to her friend as she said, “It’s Starbuck’s Christmas Blend.  I ground it myself this morning.  I even used your favorite creamer:  toffee nut. But wait, there’s more.  I also added just a sprinkling of ground cinnamon on top.  Come on grumpy, take a sip,” Amy urged.  “I now know why it is called Black Friday,” Beth said as she took the mug from her friend.  “Do tell,” Amy said as they walked to the car.  “Because it’s black outside which matches my mood,” Beth quipped as she climbed into the backseat.
            Amy and Julie chatted cheerfully as Beth sat quietly in the backseat.  She thought about all the things at home she had planned to accomplish that day and wouldn’t get to and would either not get done at all or be pushed to another timeslot.  But where would she find time in a schedule in which every moment was already filled?  “There’s no room,” she thought to herself.   Beth’s mind began racing through the days ahead which were filled to the brim with the tasks of the Season.  Her insides suddenly felt as if they were in a vice being squeezed as she ran down her mental calendar.  There was a school field trip to the food bank downtown to show the kids how food was distributed to the needy.  Then there were two school programs to attend, Andy’s staff Christmas party given by his employer, a family Christmas party at Andy’s parents’ house and the church Christmas pageant, their small group Christmas party at their house, and then she had agreed to help Amy at the local rescue mission on Christmas Eve immediately followed by the Candlelight service at church, and then, finally, Christmas Day.  All of this was added on top of the usual day-to-day activities of family life.  Then there was the added stress of the economic crunch which was now being felt in their life.  As a result of layoffs at Andy’s place of employment his workload had increased but his benefits had been reduced.  She sat surveying her life, “no room,” she whispered into the darkness.
            She was brought back to the here and now as Amy pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot where a crowd of shoppers had already congregated at the doors waiting for them to open.  Beth got out of the car and decided to try and enjoy herself as the three friends spent the morning shopping together.  By eleven o’clock they had each nearly completed their shopping.  Julie spotted a Panera and they decided this would be a good time to stop for lunch. 
            “So,” Amy began, “are you all ready to begin the Advent activities?”  All three of them had purchased Advent calendars.  Julie and Amy each shared various activities they already had planned and then they looked at Beth eager to hear what Advent plans she had made.  “Well?” Julie enquired.  Beth looked down at her fork as she confessed that the Advent package was still in its box, unopened.  Amy and Julie sat looking at their friend, expressions of concern in their faces.  Tears sprang into Beth’s eyes as she felt the internal vice tighten.  “No room,” was all she could manage to say.
            A few hours later Amy helped Beth carry her packages from the car into the house.  Amy gave Beth a big “I love you friend” hug before she headed home.  Beth closed the front door and didn’t see her friend sitting in the front seat of her car with her head bowed having a conversation with her Heavenly Father about a dearly loved friend and sister in Christ who had found herself with no room.  A few hours later found Beth lying exhausted in bed and yet unable to sleep.  Her thoughts were racing around and around in her head leaving no room for rest or even the ability to carry it all to the Lord.  “No room,” she whispered.  Sometime in the wee hours a troubled sleep came.
            The weeks passed and Beth ticked off the activities on the calendar as each came and went.  The week before Christmas Beth was heading out the door to one more meeting when Andy asked her why the Nativity had not been set out yet.  Beth turned and looked at the place on the mantle where the Nativity usually sat; she felt that internal vice tighten another couple of notches as she mumbled under her breath, “No room.”  She arrived home late and the kids were already in bed and Andy had fallen asleep on the couch.  She got ready for bed and went back downstairs to clean things up and get ready for the next day’s overflowing schedule when she noticed Andy had set the Nativity out on the mantle. 
            The fire snapped and crackled cheerfully in the fireplace inviting her to rest a while.  She stood there looking at the figures and realized she simply wanted Christmas to be over.  She was tired of the endless lists of things that had to get done and places she had to be and deadlines she had to meet and she knew she had been standing there when she should have been doing things – there was no room in her day for standing and looking at Nativity scenes.  No room for rest. “No room,” she whispered as she walked off to her next task.
            Christmas Eve arrived and Beth pulled into an empty parking space in front of the Rescue Mission.  She spotted Amy’s car a few spots over and headed to the entrance as she glanced at her watch.  She hoped all would go smoothly as there was no room in her schedule for anything unplanned.  They were supposed to finish serving dinner and wrapping gifts at the Mission by 6:30 which would leave Beth just enough time to go home, clean up and go to church with her family for the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service at 8:00.
            Amy and Beth worked hard cooking in the kitchen and then served food for two hours straight.  The next shift of servers arrived to relieve them and Beth headed toward the gift wrap area where she would spend her final hour at the mission wrapping gifts for the many people who would be spending Christmas there.  Suddenly the air seemed stifling and Beth decided to step outside for a moment or two for some fresh air.  She stepped through the rear door into a small courtyard behind the mission.  The air was cold but welcome.  Beth closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head against the stone wall.
              “Are you alright?” A man’s voice interrupted Beth’s quiet moment.  She opened her eyes and found herself looking up at a tall, middle-aged man with a scruffy looking beard and ragged clothes.  “I am fine.  Just getting a little air,” Beth replied as she turned to head back inside.  “The name’s Gabriel,” the man said as he extended his hand.  Beth pretended not to notice his friendly gesture and reached for the doorknob as she said, “I really need to get back.  There’s so much left to do.”  Gabriel stepped closer and reached the door first and held it open for her as he said, “Can you come to the Christmas play we are doing tonight?”  Beth tried to hide her surprise as she wondered what type of Christmas play this raggedy man would be in as she quickly replied, “No.  I couldn’t possibly.  No room,” she finished as she disappeared through the door and quickly headed to the gift wrap area.  She glanced around the room and didn’t see Gabriel anywhere and assumed he had probably gone to the dining hall.  She quickly put him out of her thoughts as she wrapped Christmas presents.
              An hour later found Beth walking to her car wondering where the joy was she was supposed to feel – especially this time of year.  But she didn’t feel joy.  She reached her car and stood there a moment in the dark wrestling with something inside that was threatening to consume her.  What was it she felt exactly?  She closed her eyes and turned her face heavenward just as the first snowflakes began to gently fall and as they began kissing her face leaving droplets of moisture on her cheeks she realized what she felt inside:  dry.  “Oh Father, please help me,” she whispered into the darkness as she opened her car door and climbed inside, unaware that her prayer was heard long before it ever left her lips and help was waiting just down the road.   
            Beth pulled out of the parking lot onto the two lane road toward home.  The snow was falling more heavily and she slowed her car as she entered a sharp curve.  As she made the turn a deer suddenly sprang from the darkness directly in front of her and Beth slammed on the brakes, her car skidding to a stop as she heard a loud noise coming from her car.  She sat clutching the steering wheel, her heart beating wildly as the deer stood staring at her in the headlights and then bounded off leaving her there to deal with this on her own.  “Great!” she exclaimed as she rummaged through the glove box for the flashlight.  She snapped the flashlight on, opened the car door and got out and walked to the other side of her car.  Just as she feared, the rear passenger side tire was flat as a pancake.  She walked back to the driver side, grabbed her cell phone from the center console to call the Auto Club but was unable to get a signal. “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!” she yelled into the darkness to no one in particular.
            “Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked.  Startled, Beth pointed her flashlight in the direction of the voice and found Gabriel standing across the road.  “Wh-what are you doing out here, Gabriel?” Beth asked nervously.  Gabriel smiled as he explained, “We are having our Christmas play right over here in this field.  You are invited, Beth.”  He finished gently.  Beth couldn’t remember telling him her name and it gave her an odd, unsettled feeling.  She glanced at her watch as she said, “Sorry, Gabriel.  I have to see to my car and then I have someplace to be and…” her voice trailed off and she heard Gabriel’s voice right next to her softly say, “I know Beth, you have no room.” 
            She turned around expecting Gabriel to be standing right behind her but was surprised to see he was still across the road.  She stood shivering by her car, a puzzled look on her face as Gabriel said, “Don’t worry about your tire, Beth. Come,” he invited.  She stood there shivering as she wrestled over what she should do.   A thought occurred to her then that perhaps she could get a phone signal out in the field so she made her decision and quickly grabbed her car keys and her cell phone, shut the driver’s door and hit the lock button and headed across the street, hoping she wasn’t acting foolishly and that Gabriel wasn’t crazy.
            It had stopped snowing and they walked together in silence, the fallen snow crunching under their feet.  Beth stole a sideways glance at the odd man walking beside her. “He must be seven feet tall,” she mused to herself.  He was in need of a haircut and a shave.  His clothes were tattered and obviously meant for someone a bit shorter.  She looked down at his shoes; they were mismatched.  As she looked at his feet something else struck her; something about his walk.  Yes, he walked with purpose; like he knew where he was going and what to do when got there.  “Odd,” she thought to herself.  She decided to ask a question that had come to mind when he had first mentioned the play, “What part do you have in the Christmas play?” she asked.   “I’m a messenger,” He said quietly.  “You mean you play an angel?” she asked.  “Something like that,” He said.  Beth looked up at him and thought she saw something flash in his eyes but quickly dismissed the thought as they came through a cluster of trees into an open field.
            Movement caught her eye and she could make out sheep through the darkness their gentle bleating breaking the stillness.  She could also see several small campfires dotting the field and men huddled around them, some stretching their hands toward the flames to keep warm.  Beth looked at Gabriel as she asked, “Shepherds?”  “Yes,” came the one word reply.  Gabriel seated Beth at a small campfire.  He handed her a wool blanket which she gladly put over her legs.  He pulled something from his coat pocket and handed it to her as he said, “It’s the script.  You can read along, if you like.”  She looked down and saw that he had handed her a Bible. It fell open to the book of Luke.  She was about to say something but when she looked up Gabriel was headed in the direction of the shepherds. 
            Beth began to read the text, “There were shepherds in a field outside of Bethlehem, tending their flocks by night.”  She looked up as her eyes took in the scene before her, “Shepherds tending their flocks by night,” she whispered.  It was then she noticed Gabriel standing near a group of shepherds.  “But when did he have time to change?” she wondered out loud.  He was clothed in white and looked quite impressive as she took in the realistic looks of fear mixed with awe on the faces of the shepherds.  She looked down, following the words of Gabriel’s announcement to the Shepherds and looked up as the words came to life in the field before her very eyes.
            Nothing prepared her for what happened next.  All of a sudden the field shown brilliant as what appeared to be an army of men all every bit as tall as Gabriel and they were singing a song she had never heard before – it was a song of praise to God and the very ground beneath her seemed to reverberate with the sound of their joy.  “Oh!” she cried.  “But how…who…?”  was all she could manage.  Then just as suddenly as they had appeared they vanished and the field was cloaked in a strange silence.
              The air was electric as she heard the shepherds’ excited tones and then they all began running.  She read the text out loud, “They ran to the village and found Mary and Joseph and there was the baby lying in the manger.”  She looked up to see the shepherds slow their pace as they approached what appeared to be a hollowed out place in the hillside.  She caught a glimpse of firelight and a young man and woman sitting in its warmth.  The shepherds stood peering inside when she heard it – a baby’s cry through the night.  Beth saw a tiny hand extend up out of the feeding trough and the young woman brushed a tear from her cheek as she motioned the shepherds to come near. 
            As Beth sat riveted to the scene the young woman lifted the baby out of the manger.  He was wrapped in strips of cloth, “just as the angel said,” Beth whispered.  Something on the hillside above them caught her eye and she looked up just as the clouds lifted, revealing the hilltop and on it stood a cross.  She caught her breath as she stood looking from the manger to the cross the tears flowing down her cheeks as a familiar voice softly asked, “Beth, do you have room?”   She went to her knees in the middle of that field and talked to the Lord about her heart that she had allowed to become so busy that she had run out of room: no room to sit with Him, no room to read His Word, no room to sit in His presence. 
            Gabriel helped her up and she smiled as she noticed he was wearing his tattered clothes and mismatched shoes again.  As they walked back toward her car it began to snow again and as she turned her face heavenward and the snowflakes gently kissed her face, leaving tiny drops of moisture on her cheeks, she realized she wasn’t dry on the inside anymore.  Her once dry heart was drenched in joy.  They arrived at the car and she stopped and stared.  She turned a puzzled look at Gabriel.  “Look at that,” he said, “someone fixed your tire.”  Gabriel helped her into her car and before he closed the door she reached out and took his hand in hers.  She couldn’t speak and he simply nodded and then closed her door. 
            She glanced at her watch and then out the window, intending to wave goodbye to Gabriel but he was gone.  She pulled her cell phone from her coat pocket.  “That’s funny,” she thought, “My cell phone has full power now.”  She shrugged and called Andy and quickly told him about the flat tire and that she would just meet him at church. Then she dialed Amy’s number.  She answered on the third ring and Beth told her how much she enjoyed the Christmas play the mission had put on and she hoped they would do it again and that Gabriel made an excellent angel.  “Amy?” Beth said into the silence.  Amy sounded confused as she answered, “Beth, I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.  The mission didn’t do any Christmas plays.  And Beth, there’s no one at the mission named Gabriel.”  Beth set her phone down on the seat, her heart overwhelmed within her.
            Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the church parking lot.  She hurried inside and spotted Andy and the kids sitting in the third row.  Andy squeezed her hand as she sat down and then kissed her cheek as he whispered, “I love you, Beth.”  Then he reached over and pulled something from her hair as he whispered, “Beth, where on earth have you been?”  She looked at the piece of straw Andy held in his fingers and she smiled as she said, “I made a stop in Bethlehem.
           
An Original Conversations at the Well© Copyright by Diana MorganDecember 7, 2009       

Sunday, December 2, 2012

DADDY'S DRIVING


DADDY’S DRIVING“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
Deuteronomy 31:8 (ESV)


I leaned down to peer into the backseat where Lillian was securely tucked into her car seat for the drive home.  She was happily waving her little arms.  I tapped on the glass and she looked over and smiled.  You know the kind of smile that melts a grandma’s heart.  A moment later Marc and I stood on the curb waving as the car carrying such precious cargo pulled away and disappeared from view. I much prefer arrivals to departures, I thought to myself as we walked back to the house.

Later I was on a certain social network and spied the picture my daughter had posted during their drive to the desert on Friday evening.  Elizabeth said it had rained on them during the drive but had stopped as they began their descent to the valley.  I studied the picture.  The daylight was fading making the colors soft and muted.  The sun was about to dip out of sight but before he said good night he cast color across the sky turning the clouds into a glorious tapestry.

As I continued looking at the picture I thought of Lillian in her car seat.  She couldn’t see the view her mommy and daddy saw from the front seat.  Her view was limited.   From where she sat, she was unable to see the valley spread out as far as the eye could see. In fact she couldn’t even see her mommy and daddy from where she sat.  She couldn’t see her daddy’s strong hands on the wheel as he drove down the winding road that would take her to grandma and grandpa’s house.

I thought about how Lillian could not control the journey. She couldn’t control how fast the tires on the car turned.  She couldn’t control the engine that powered the car.  She couldn’t change the scenery they passed or how others on the roadway drove.  She could not control the weather or the road conditions.  Instead of worrying, she trusted her daddy to take care of things and get her safely to where he was taking her.

I thought of the words in Deuteronomy that talked about the Lord going before me, being with me and never, ever leaving me. It was then I became aware of His presence and my thoughts stilled as He drew near.

“I will never leave you,” He said.

“Even when I am hurtling down life’s highway and everything seems out of control and scary; and the road gets so windy that I get that sick queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach? Even then, Lord?”

“Even then,” He said.

I was about to ask another question about His being with me, but He touched my heart and said, “I will NEVER leave you.”

I knew then that His “never” was every bit as sure as His “always” and He promised to never, ever leave me. To always be with me. I could trust that even when the road became bumpy and filled with pot holes, or the road windy, that His promises were sure and they shone like a tapestry across the heavens reminding me that His view is unobstructed and His plans no one can thwart.

The Lord and I sat a while longer in sweet conversation and then, I stopped to talk with Him about the day ahead.  Lillian came to mind again and I smiled at the memory of her tucked in her car seat, a smile on her face. She didn’t need to worry. Her daddy was driving. I turned my thoughts back to the day ahead. My view was limited. I couldn’t see around the next bend.  A smile touched my lips as I pictured myself tucked snugly in the seat of His will. There was no need to worry.  After all, my Father was driving.

An Original Conversation at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, December 2, 2012


 



Friday, November 30, 2012

A LIGHT IN THE DARK



A LIGHT IN THE DARK
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?Psalm 27:1 (NASB)

I remember well being small and afraid of the dark.  The dark was the place all things scary lived—a place of nightmares.  Countless times I woke screaming in the dark (my family can attest to this).  At the sound of my cries my mother would come and turn on the light, and the darkness fled away taking all its fearfulness with it.

Sometimes my mother would leave the hall light on and my bedroom door open ever so slightly. That light slipping in through the door was like a guard at the gate. In my little girl thoughts, the darkness lost its power and nothing that lurked in the dark could come near me as long as the light was on.  There were times I would wake during the night to find the light had been turned off and the door shut tight and the dark reached out and held my small heart in its fearful grip.

I did not like the dark! Truth be told, I still don’t.

Last night I was sitting in my office wrapping up a couple of things before heading home.  My phone buzzed and I saw a text from my husband.  I opened it and read.

Marc: Power is out

Me: How come?

Marc: Don’t know

Me: Is our neighborhood out or just our house?

Marc: Funny

Me: What?! Just wondering.

Marc: The neighborhood

Me: Stink!

“Ugh! I hate power outages,” I muttered to no one in particular. I sat quietly looking at the bird lamp tucked in the corner of my desk. It cast warm light beams across stacks of paperwork and I seriously considered staying at work until the power came back on. But that would be silly. And though I have been known to venture into the silly on occasion, I decided I needed to go home.  Besides, I thought hopefully, the power could be on by the time I get there.
So, clinging to the hope of restored power, I locked the door to my office and headed to the parking lot for the short drive home.

Hope grew as I turned on to the street before my neighborhood and saw lights from windows spilling cheerfully into the night.  As I approached the four-way stop at the corner leading into our neighborhood I smiled as I saw lights burning brightly in the houses directly across the street from where we lived. But as I turned onto our street, hope put on its running shoes and fled, disappearing into the darkness of our neighborhood.

I got out of the car and was immediately struck by the absolute silence. It was eerie. I stood in the driveway and looked at the houses across the street just as the moon ducked behind some clouds, taking her soft light with her. The darkened homes suddenly became slumbering giants; their windows like great eyes that had been closed and behind those closed eyes, shadowed creatures skulked. I shuddered inwardly as I scolded my too vivid imagination into submission. I turned facing my own house: DARKNESS everywhere! Have I mentioned that I don’t like the dark?

I headed up the stone walkway and heard rustling and the happy sound of wagging dog tails.  The darkness could not dim the enthusiasm of these two four-legged, furry, bundles of welcome. I found this rather comforting. Marc appeared with a flashlight and opened the door for me as I walked inside.  I had expected darkness, but to my delight found an oil lamp and several candles burning, their soft glow filling the living room with warmth and the fragrance of spiced cider and warm vanilla sugar.

A short time later we sat on the floor in the living room eating take-out by candlelight. It was true that we could not see very well as the darkness was heavy, but in the midst of the darkness we had light—not enough light to run—just enough light for where we were.  A couple of hours later the lights came on and chased the darkness away just in time for us to call it a night. I blew out the candles and turned out the lights—being sure to leave the hall light on so I could see as I prepared the house for slumber.

I turned out the hall light and climbed into bed. Marc and the dogs snored softly and I lay there in the dark and began thinking about just how dark the darkness was.  My imagination kicked into high gear and I began to hear noises and think about all manner of things hiding in the dark. I shut my eyes in an effort to quell my imagination but it was no use. I knew the darkness was still there, lurking just the other side of my closed eyelids.  A moment later my eyes flew open—funny how loud the dark can be.

My thoughts turned to other things concealed by darkness and what if thoughts taunted me from their hiding places. What if illness comes? What if unemployment is hiding under the bed? As if my own life didn’t contain enough what ifs to ponder, I began to think about my family and friends and continued imagining: What if… Fear stirred and I suddenly felt like the small girl I once was.  My heart cried out for help.

It was then light shone through the window and I realized that the clouds must have parted just enough to let the moonlight through. It was as if in response to my heart’s cry my heavenly Father had turned on the light and left heaven’s door open ever so slightly. I remembered how I once thought the light was a guard at the gate. The words David penned long ago in Psalm 27:1 came to mind, “The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”  I realized then that the Light was far more than a guard at the gate—He is my very salvation.  The LORD is my light and in Him there is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5).

Comfort replaced fear and my eyes became heavy as I whispered a prayer of thanks to Him who is the Light of the world and in whom no darkness dwells. As sleep tugged at my eyelids I thought of the light in the midst of the darkness, and smiled knowing that sometimes in life darkness decends, but the Light of the world is always with me. Sometimes He may provide enough light to keep running, and other times it may be as though He has left heaven's door open ever so slightly allowing just enough light for where I am.

Precious friend, are you surrounded by darkness? Are you imagining all the “what ifs” until fear wells up within your heart?
Read Psalm 27
Remember that even in your darkest hour the Lord is with you and His light will shine through the darkness as though He has left heaven’s door open ever so slightly. You may think you don’t have light enough, but He is more than enough.  His grace is sufficient. The next time darkness engulfs you and you think you see slumbering giants through the shadows and fear grabs hold of your heart, join your voice with David’s, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, November 30, 2012





























Friday, November 16, 2012

HOPE FILLED PORTION


HOPE FILLED PORTION
"The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him."
Lamentations 3:24 (NASB)

Have you ever found yourself wanting something to happen so much that you become fixated on it?  You turn it this way and that way in your mind and even begin to imagine all the “what ifs” if it doesn’t happen?  It’s a bit like a dog gnawing a bone or worrying over his food dish…

“Do you dogs want breakfast?” Marc asked. 

Teddy and Gracie hurried to the hall closet where their containers of food are stored.  We measured their respective portions and we added water and stirred until a little gravy formed.  After all, who doesn’t love gravy?!  Teddy followed Marc and Gracie followed me, their tails wagging in anticipation.

Gracie and I reached the area where she is fed and she immediately sat down and lifted her gaze to my face.  I set her dish down at her feet, but her eyes never left my face.  She looked beautiful with her body perfectly upright, her graceful head turned upward, her eyes, hopeful.  I began counting in my head and when I reached the minute marker, I said the words she was waiting to hear, “You’re free.”  I didn’t need to tell her twice, as she immediately lowered her head and began to eat breakfast with great enthusiasm.

I headed to the dining room where Teddy sat waiting for Marc to speak those longed for words that would release him to eat.  I noticed that Teddy’s eyes were not fixed on Marc’s face.  Nope.  Not even a glance.  His eyes were fixed downward on his food dish.  Every muscle in his body was tense as he focused in on what he wanted. His head was bent downward and he began to drool.  Teddy didn’t look hopeful.  He looked worried.   When the time came, Marc said, “You’re free.”  Teddy dove into his food dish, devouring his breakfast and I wondered if he even tasted it as he gulped his food until it was gone.

It occurred to me that Gracie’s focus was on the provider while Teddy’s was on the provision.  Gracie’s focus inspired hope and a graceful demeanor of waiting; while Teddy’s caused him to be tense, drooling and bent in an unattractive, worried sort of posture.  A light seemed to come on in my heart as I hurried to talk to Him about it.

I arrived at the well a bit breathless as my words began tumbling out before I even sat down.  He listened intently as I described Gracie’s demeanor of waiting and Teddy’s posture of worry and how Gracie was focused on the provider and Teddy on the provision. 

“Lord,” I said excitedly, “people can be just like that.”  I waited for Him to join in the conversation about “those people”.  You know; the worried, bent ones with their focus in the wrong place. 

“I am your portion,” He said.

I felt His words touch my heart and I stilled beneath them as I waited there in the soft light of dawn.

“And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”

I recognized the words from Philippians 4:19 as they rumbled through my soul, causing me to recognize myself as one of “those worried, bent people.”

“Tell Me.”

I tucked my knees up under my chin and began to share with Him about the thing I hoped would happen and the what if thoughts that had crept in about what would happen if that thing didn’t happen.  I saw myself clearly then…

The eyes of my heart had focused in on the thing hoped for—the provision instead of the provider.  My demeanor did not inspire hope, but a heart bent and worried.  And was that drool? 

“Ugh!”

“I am your portion.  Hope in Me,” He said.

He spoke from His Word and my heart gladly nestled down in the pages as He continued to speak from Lamentations 3.

Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness.20 Surely my soul remembers And is bowed down within me.21 This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.22 The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail.23 They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.24 "The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him."25 The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.
Lamentations 3:19-25 (NASB)

He reminded me that He will supply all that is needed.  (Philippians 4:19)   He took my soul to task for focusing on the provision instead of He who is my provider.  “Fix your eyes on Me,” He reminded my often wandering, yet tender grandma heart in Hebrews 12:2.

“I am good to those who wait for Me, to the person who seeks Me. My compassion never, ever fails.  Open your eyes every morning and they are there, new for a new day.  My faithfulness is great—greater than your greatest, deepest need.  My lovingkindess never stops—not for a moment.  Seek Me.  Hope in Me. Wait for Me for I am good.”

A noise from outside caught my attention and I looked out to see the sun peering out from behind the early morning clouds as rain had begun falling.  The sunlight sparkled, causing the raindrops to glisten like twinkly lights. 

I turned my heart back toward Him as I began again to tell Him about the thing I hoped would happen.  This time, instead of focusing on the thing I hoped for, I turned my heart’s gaze upward to Him—away from the provision to my Provider.  I felt it—the change in my heart’s demeanor.  Instead of being bent, it was upright.  Instead of worried, hope filled. 

“Lord?”

“Yes?”

“Thank You for being my Portion.  My hope filled Portion!”

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, November 16, 2012




Tuesday, November 6, 2012

REACHING TOUCH


REACHING TOUCH
Reach down your hand from on high
Psalms 144:7 (NIV)

Jesus reached out his hand and touched
Matthew 8:3 (NIV)

Marc and I left the house while the desert still lay slumbering beneath a blanket of stars.  I was walking our 4-year old golden retriever Teddy while Marc walked our 5 month-old golden retriever puppy Gracie.  She was heeling nicely right by his side, not pulling ahead or falling behind.  I noticed as they walked that Gracie was constantly looking up at her master.  And then I saw it…Marc stretched his hand downward and touched Gracie’s nose.  Oh how she loved that.  She was practically prancing with joyful puppy feet. She constantly looked up and she also would stretch her head upward to meet her master’s hand that was constantly reaching down to touch her.  I carefully tucked the image into a quiet corner of my heart as we continued our walk.

A short time later found me sitting on the patio with His Book open in front of me.  I was reading some verses that talked about the Lord’s reaching touch.  I looked toward the east as the sun peered over the eastern mountains, its light chased night’s lingering shadows across the desert dawn.  The warmth fell across my face and I thought to myself that even the sun greeting the day is God reaching down to touch me with His kindness.  This thought reminded me of Marc and Gracie and I hurried to the corner of my heart and tenderly retrieved the image I had so carefully tucked away of a master’s reaching touch.  I took the image with me and hurried to the Well to talk with Him who said He would always be within reach of those who are His.  I found Him there just as He promised.

“Lord,” I began, as I rushed into His presence, holding up the image of Marc reaching down to touch Gracie’s nose while she joyfully reached up to meet the touch of her master.  “it reminds me of the way You reach down to touch my life—my very heart.  I love reaching back.”  My brow furrowed as another thought crossed my mind, “Lord, I sometimes get distracted and I forget to reach back.  Instead of lifting my heart to meet Your gaze and Your touch, I am looking at troubles or even the good things that You have provided.  I totally miss out on that sweet walk—Your touch that sends my soul to prancing.”

He took me to Psalm 144:7 and Matthew 8:3 that talked about His reaching touch.  Then we talked about the day ahead as the clock rudely announced it was time to get busy.  As I opened the door into a world filled with distractions, I felt it…His touch on my heart.  I looked up as He reached down.  His reaching touch set my heart to prancing.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan November 6, 2012


Sunday, November 4, 2012

A KNOWN VOICE


A KNOWN VOICE
When he puts forth all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice.
John 10:4 (NASB)

It was a mild November morning as our group headed out on the bird walk.  My grandbaby Lillian was with me in her carrier as we followed my daughter Elizabeth toward the wetlands.

“There’s a yellow rumped warbler,” Elizabeth said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I heard its call,” she said.

I stood amazed at my daughter’s bird watching skill.  She can name almost any bird without seeing it, simply by listening to its song.  The air was filled with birdsong, but she was able to recognize and identify the song of a yellow rumped warbler.  You see, she knew its voice.

I tucked this moment away in my heart to ponder later…

I remember some 15 years ago when she first became interested in birding. She bought books about birds.  She bought tapes of bird calls. She got connected with other birders. She invested in birding equipment such as binoculars and a birding scope. She studied hard and took every opportunity to go on birding trips. She began volunteering at the Wild Bird Center where she helps care for sick or injured birds.

Elizabeth continues to hone her birding skills and enjoys sharing her love and knowledge of birds with others.  She co-leads a bird walk once a month; and I have been fortunate enough to go along on many occasions.  Her love of birds is contagious and I can’t wait for our next birding adventure.

Tonight as I sat thinking about these things I was reminded of Jesus’ words found in John 10:4.  I opened my Bible and read the words out loud.

When he puts forth all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. John 10:4 (NASB)

I suddenly became aware of His sweet presence and I settled deeper into my chair to have a conversation with the One whose voice I have come to love.  I decided to tell Him all about the bird walk.  Of course He already knew all about it.  He was there the whole time!

“Lord,” I said, a bit breathless as I began to share about all the birds we had spotted and how Elizabeth had identified the yellow rumped warbler just by the sound of its voice.

He listened to me intently as though He had all the time in the world.  Of course He transcends time and He created time.  I brought my easily distracted thoughts back from the bunny trail they were about to hop down.

“Lord, the way Elizabeth so easily identified the yellow rumped warbler by the sound of its voice reminds me of how I am to know Your voice.  You know, to distinguish it from all the other voices that noisily call for my attention.”

“It is important to know My voice. To listen to My voice above the fray of ‘world voices’ that will try to deceive you.”

I grew quiet as I thought about that.  Jesus was talking to the Pharisees when He said those words.  The Pharisees had loud voices and had deceived many and were blind themselves.  They didn’t recognize the Messiah’s voice.  I thought about how the mocking bird imitates the song of other birds, and likewise there are imposters who put words in God’s mouth.  They attach God’s name to all sorts of statements and beliefs that are contrary to what God has actually said.  It can be confusing.  How can we discern God’s voice from all the other voices rising out of a noisy world?

Knowing my every thought He asked, “How did Elizabeth come to identify birds by their song?”

I smiled as I said, “She studied and learned about bird behavior and bird songs and she spent much time bird watching.”

“Spend much time in My Word.  Learn about Me, My character, what I say and then you will recognize imposters—those false teachers because what they say is contrary to what I have revealed about Myself in the Bible.  Stay connected to other believers and keep close company with Me.”

I sat awhile longer at the Well.  His voice spoke clearly from the pages of His Word.  Before I knew it, I had to go take care of some tasks, but as I headed out the door into the world and voices fill the air, One voice was familiar and I smiled with instant recognition.  You see, it is the voice of my Beloved.  My Savior and I fall in step with Him through my day.  How do I know it’s Him, you ask. That’s easy.  You see, I belong to Him and I know His voice.  Joy!

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright Diana Morgan November 4, 2012



Friday, November 2, 2012

A FRIEND'S REFRESHING


A FRIEND’S REFRESHING
A generous man will prosper;
he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.
Proverbs 11:25 (NIV)

Have you ever been sick?  Have you ever been tired?  Have you ever been sick and tired?  You know, when your body sends your brain a message that you have been burning the candle at both ends and perhaps you need to stop for a good refueling.  But you ignore that inner prompting and keep right on burning both ends of the candle until you begin to sputter and fizzle and your light has all but gone out.   

I sat at the Well wrapped snugly in my favorite throw as I sipped my coffee.  I read the words about refreshing and being refreshed and decided to see how another version of His book put it…it’s helpful to have more than one translation handy when you sit at His feet.  The NASB put it this way…”he who waters will himself be watered.”

“It’s important to be well hydrated,” His voice thundered through the predawn stillness, stirring my heart awake.

I knew He was referring to hydration of the Living Water kind and not the temporary refreshing that comes from the kitchen tap.  Only Living Water is able to penetrate the dryness and go deep—heart deep.  Sometimes we can be in such a state that we find ourselves face down in the dust unable to even ask for water.

I was in just such a dry place last week.  I had been burning the candle at both ends.  I decided to leave home without eating the Bread of Life and drinking the Living Water found only in the pages of His Book.  I was going to work early and staying late.  I told myself it was only temporary and I could do it.  Friends had been commenting how tired I looked for days, but I shrugged off their words  and kept right on burning that candle until the wick began to smoke and sputter and had all but gone out.

“I sent friends to help,” He said.

I nodded quietly as I remembered how I had been sitting at my desk the previous week in a weary fog.  My heart was lying in the dust all dried and shriveled and on top of everything else, I had been fighting a sore throat for two days.  I was tired.  I was sick.  My heart was dehydrated.  To quote a friend, “I was a hot mess.”

A few friends and co-laborers in Christ walked into my office and announced that they had come to help. They were sending me home to have dinner with my husband.  The tasks I was carrying, they were taking on themselves—even though they were extremely busy with their own workload.  Funny, I hadn’t noticed the Living Water they were carrying when they walked into my office, but as they spoke it was as if they were pouring water onto the dry ground of my soul.  It flowed from a source unseen by human eyes.  It flowed right past my prideful excuses.  It pushed the tasks, the “I think I need to’s” and the “shoulds” right out of the way.  It flowed in streams through these Jesus lovers, straight to my heart.

I recalled the part in John 15 where Jesus was admonishing the disciples to abide in Him.  He had said, “…apart from Me you can do nothing.”

“Lord,” I cried, “it’s true.  I know it’s true.  Forgive me for thinking and acting as though I could do ministry or anything else on my own – without You!  I don’t want to be a dried up fruitless branch.”

I read the words in both translations again.

A generous man will prosper;
 he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.
Proverbs 11:25 (NIV)

The generous man will be prosperous, and he who waters will himself be watered.
Proverbs 11:25 (NASB)

As I read His Words from His Book I felt His Living Water do its hydrating work in my heart.

I thought of each friend who had come to my aid at the Lord’s request that day.  You see they could have simply walked into my office and told me to go home and then gone back to what they were doing (James 2:15-17 speaks of this).   But they coupled their kind words with a great act of love.  You see they saw with their eyes that I was bone weary, they found out what was needed and then they gave legs to their words.  In sending me home, they put aside their work and their evening plans, took on my task and helped a great team accomplish a rather daunting project.

Our pastor knew that the people on this team would need food so he and his wife bought dinner and took it to the team.  They walked into that room with much more than food for bodies - they carried Living Water which the Lord poured out through them onto His much loved kids to refresh and revive tired hearts as they worked. If you are quiet you can almost hear the Living Water rushing like a river.

As the sun began to rise from its place of slumber, I turned the words of Proverbs 11:25 into a prayer for each friend who had been a carrier of Refreshing Living Water that day.

“Lord, thank you for friend’s name, prosper them in their work, in their relationships and more importantly in their relationship with You.  May they flourish under Your care and bear much fruit.  As they watered my life and refreshed my weary heart, refresh them today.  Lord, now that I have been a receiver of refreshing water, help me to be generous with my talent and time as I pour into the lives of others today, that they too may be refreshed as only You can do.  Amen.”

Dear one, what about you?  Are you in a place of dryness and in need of refreshing?  Turn to the Word of God – where Living Water flows freely and brings refreshing to dry and weary hearts.  Perhaps you are in a place where you are spiritually dehydrated.  You are face down in the dust and physically, emotionally exhausted—a weariness that goes heart deep.  My sweet friend, I pray today that the Lord would send friends to your aid and through their kindness the Lord would pour out water of the Living kind bringing heart deep refreshment.

May we in turn carry Living Water to others today and be a source of refreshment in word and deed.  In Jesus’ name and for His glory!

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan  November 2, 2012


   


      

Saturday, October 13, 2012

A VERY PRESENT


A VERY PRESENT
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.Psalm 46:1 (NASB)

I heard the front door close and silence wrapped around the house like a soft throw on a chilly fall morning.  Marc and the dogs were headed to the dog park and I planned to exercise while they were out.  My feet hit the floor but before I could begin pulling on my exercise clothes, I heard a familiar voice beckon me to sit with Him.   I was momentarily torn but knew I could take a walk later in the day while solitude was not easily found these days.  I picked up my Bible and other quiet time supplies and headed down the hallway.

I arrived at the Well and smiled as I sat down in the soft glow of lamplight.  I opened my Bible and turned to the place I had marked in the Psalms, the pages making that wonderful crinkly sound as they turned.  He whom my soul loves was there waiting for me.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Lord,” I replied.

I turned my attention to the words in Psalm 46 and began to read.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

The words “a very present” seemed to have been highlighted and underscored by an unseen hand, inviting me to kick off my hurriedness and sit a spell.  I began to look at them this way and that when my imagination stepped in to offer its perspective.  I closed my eyes and peered through the darkness as the scene unfolded.

A child’s scream pierced the darkness followed by frightened cries that made their way through the closed door. They sped down the hallway, rushing passed pictures on the walls, around the corner to where large double doors stood like sentries in the night.  But even these heavy doors could not prevent the cries from reaching their destination.

“Daddy” she cried, the terror evident in each syllable.

Had the child been quiet she would have heard familiar footfalls as lights came on, chasing the darkness that had only a moment ago threatened and held all things horrifying to her small life.  Strong arms reach down and scoop her up, holding her against his chest while a gentle hand smoothes hair, damp with fear’s perspiration, away from her small furrowed brow as he presses his lips to her ear and whispers, “Daddy is here.”

As dad-size fingers wipe her tears, she hears it.  She nestles closer, her small ears longing to hear more clearly.  Her sobs begin to still and she closes her eyes as she listens.  Her daddy’s heartbeat pours comfort through her soul and with each beat tells her he is not only with her, but holds her.  Her eyes grow heavy and she lets them close, knowing she is in the strong arms of her very present Daddy.

I opened my eyes as the imagery of a daddy holding his precious daughter lingered while I continued reading Palm 46.  He had used His heavenly highlighter to mark other phrases.  I love how He does that.
  •  A very present…
  •  God is in the midst…
  •  God will help…
  •  The Lord of hosts is with us
  •  Cease striving and know that I am God
I sat very still as dawn slipped in through the windows and the birds greeted the new day with their song.  We sat together for a good while as He continued speaking to me of His Very Presentness.

I read the list I had made and turned it into a prayer.  You can borrow it if you like.

Lord, I am so glad I am your daughter and that You meet me in the pages of Your Word.  I needed to hear Your heartbeat this morning to remind me that You are in the midst of my circumstances and that You will help me.  You are the Lord of hosts and You are with me.  When darkness surrounds me like a shroud, I need not fear. When I cry out You promise to hear.  Help me especially in those times to have an attentive ear that hears Your familiar footfall as You scoop me up in Your strong arms and I can lean my weary head against You as You whisper, “Daughter, I am here.”   Your promises rise up from Your Word—Your whispered assurances that invite me to know, to trust, to rest, to cease my striving and know that You are God—A very present Abba (Daddy).  Amen.

The front door opened and in ran two dogs and a husband, the silence replaced by the sounds of family.  I rose to greet them and walked into the new day, knowing I was not walking into it alone, but He who is a Very Present Father was with me.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, October 13, 2012



Monday, September 3, 2012

COVERED



COVERED
“Gracie!” I called.  My eyes scanned the yard as I walked along the pathway but I saw no sign of our thirteen week old golden retriever puppy.   I could see no ball of fur bounding over boulders or splashing about in the bird bath or pruning the shrubbery.   Everything was still—too still.

“Gracie!” I called, again, trying to keep my voice soft so as not to wake the neighborhood.  The stars had pulled up their blanket of dawn and the eastern sky was stirring to wakefulness but the sun was still tucked snugly in its resting place behind the mountains.

I circled around and returned to the patio and was about to go into the house to see if she had gone in through the dog door when I heard a strange sound coming from the side yard.  I tilted my head and listened.  Scriiiiiiitch.  Scriiiiiitch.

I took a few steps in the direction of the strange sound.  “Gracie!  Gracie, where are you?”  Scriiiiiitch.   Scriiiiiitch, was the only reply.

I took a few more steps toward the sound and then movement caught my eye.  A large plastic drain pipe of about twenty feet in length lay near the fence and it was definitely moving.   Once again I heard the sound, scriiiiitch.  I took my foot and rolled the drain pipe toward me and heard much rustling from someplace within it and out trotted Gracie at the far end though I hardly recognized her.  The normally white golden was covered in black!

A thought began stirring in my mind, and retrieving my bible from the house and a fresh cup of coffee with the good creamer, I meandered down to one of my favorite boulders and sat down just in time to see the mountains turn purple and mauve as the sun peered over the mountains in the east turning the peaks towering in the west all shades golden.  I watched for a moment more and then opened my bible to Genesis 3 to read about someone who had been walking through a certain garden and calling to those He loved.

8 They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.9 Then the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, "Where are you?"
 Genesis 3:8-9 (NASB)

Adam and Eve must have looked forward to walking with the Lord.  I wondered what they talked about with Him.  What must it have been like to have nothing whatsoever to hinder their heart to heart conversations with God?  O sweetest fellowship shattered by sin.  I read the words again and sat quietly as sadness closed in around my heart.  Adam and Eve heard the familiar footfall of the Lord but instead of joyfully going to meet Him, they hid.  Sin had severed their friendship with Him who alone is holy.  Death had come.

Suddenly the image of Gracie running happily about the yard in my presence came to mind.  In an instant she chose to enter the drain pipe and ignored the sound of my voice calling her name.  When she finally came out she was covered with filth.  Unlike Adam and Eve, Gracie's hiding was shortlived and once she was out of the drain pipe she ran straight to me, her little puppy tail wagging excitedly.  Adam and Eve's sin had sent them into hiding.

“You have hidden from Me at times.”

I thought about that and nodded in agreement.  Yes, I definitely had tried to hide from Him and even outrun Him a few times.  I remembered the words David wrote about that very thing.

7 Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?
Psalms 139:7 (NASB)

 
5 O God, it is You who knows my folly, And my wrongs are not hidden from You.
Psalms 69:5 (NASB)

“Lord,” I began, “it is both a wonderful and yet horrifying thing that nothing is hid from You.  You see it all.  I know if I had been with Adam and Eve that day I too would have had sticky fruit on my hands and face and would have been hiding in the shrubbery.”

He didn’t disagree and we sat in silence as we watched finches having their breakfast at the feeders on the other side of the yard.  I continued thinking about the garden and Adam and Eve’s poor attempt at putting some leaves together in order to cover themselves and I opened my bible and continued reading in Genesis 3.

21 The Lord God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife, and clothed them.
Genesis 3:21 (NASB)

Adam and Eve’s disobedience to God had immediate and deadly consequences not only for them but for creation. Sin had entered the world.  Animals had died—blood had to be shed in order to provide a covering of skin for them.

“Lord, this was a foreshadowing of a sacrifice to come.  Jesus’ shed blood on the cross for sin.”  As I sat in His presence I could almost hear the echo of nails being pounded into the cross that stood between two others on Calvary’s hill.

7 "Blessed are those whose lawless deeds have been forgiven, and whose sins have been covered.
Romans 4:7 (NASB)

I indeed was blessed as I had been forgiven much.   A tear slid down my cheek.

“Tears shed from a repentant heart are precious to Me,” He said as He gently caught it and placed it carefully in His bottle.  A smile touched my lips as I remembered the Psalmist’s words.

You have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?
Psalms 56:8 (NASB)

He walked with me a little longer and shared glorious truth with this silly grandma who once tried to hide from Him.

3 For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.
Colossians 3:3 (NASB)

No longer do I have to hide for God sees me through His precious Son Jesus and there I am hidden snugly in Him.

As I headed up the garden path into the day I heard the echo of His love which provided the way from death into life, from hiding to fellowship, tell my heart clearly, “Child, I have you covered.”

Joy!

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, September 3, 2012

Saturday, August 18, 2012

ONCE UPON A TIME

STORIES OF REDEMPTION
16 Come and listen, all you who fear God;
     let me tell you what he has done for me.
Psalms 66:16 (NIV)

A quiet fell upon me as I sat looking around the living room of my home.  Marc and I had lived in this very house for thirty one years.  Our daughter Elizabeth was 3-years old when we moved in and our son Josh had been a mere baby of 18-months.  Now they were both in their thirties and married with families of their own.

It seemed to me that the walls suddenly whispered the story of our lives within this house.  We recently celebrated thirty five years of marriage and all but three of those have been lived out within these walls tucked on the corner of Silk Tree Lane.

My thoughts drifted back through the years to slumber parties, Mickey Mouse pancakes, games of catch in the backyard, scraped knees, chickenpox, first bicycles; the first days of school, graduations and wedding plans.  Our kids had grown up here and now the rooms echoed with the voices of our grandchildren.

We had known lean times and times of plenty, times of sorrow and times of great joy, times of lostness and times of being found, times of darkness and times of light, times of enslavement and times of being set free, times of betrayal and times of forgiveness, times of brokenness and times of healing. This house is more than stucco and tile; it is more than a place to hang our hat at the end of the day.  Within these walls the story of our life together has been written: a story of redemption.

These thoughts reminded me of Paul’s words to the believers in Corinth.

9 Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders 10 nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

The words brought to light the ugliness of our sinful state.  Oh, but this was not the end of the story.  I read on…

 11 And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.
1 Corinthians  6:9-11 (NIV)

 Sing to him, sing praise to him;
     tell of all his wonderful acts.
Psalms 105:2 (NIV)
23 Sing to the LORD, all the earth;
     proclaim his salvation day after day.
24 Declare his glory among the nations,
     his marvelous deeds among all peoples.
1 Chronicles 16:23-24 (NIV)

Why should we tell the story of what God has done?  Is it because of us?  Is it because of this earthly house?  No!  The reason we tell the story of what God has done is…

25 For great is the LORD and most worthy of praise;
1 Chronicles 16:25 (NIV)

My thoughts turned to my heavenly Father’s house, the one with the many rooms spoken of by Jesus in John 14:2.  I imagined what it would be like to be there.  To sit within those heavenly walls and talk with Abraham, Noah, Joseph, Joshua, David, Peter, the woman caught in adultery, John, Paul, Amy Carmichael, and Corrie ten Boom, to name a few.

Their stories echo through the streets of gold.  We will understand that the stories of the redeemed do not stand alone, but each is woven into the THE STORY of the REDEEMER who gave His life as a ransom for many.  What a story!  We will never tire of hearing it and we will have all eternity to turn the pages and hear it spoken.  For it is a story of redemption, of the redeemed by the Redeemer:  Jesus.

Dear one, come.  Come and listen.  Let me tell you what He has done for me.  You see, it is a story to be told with children and grandchildren nestled on your lap or shared with a stranger in need, or with believers.  For we are told in Scripture to tell of the great things He has done, lest we forget.  It is a story of what was once upon a time, but I have been washed, I have been sanctified, I have been justified and made new.  It is a story of redemption.

Later, as I drifted off to sleep, I thought I heard a song and it seemed to be coming from heaven and my heart sang along.

I LOVE TO TELL THE STORY
I love to tell the story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and his glory,
Of Jesus and his love.
I love to tell the story,
Because I know 'tis true;
It satisfies my longings
As nothing else can do.

[Refrain:]

I love to tell the story,
For those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting
To hear it like the rest.
And when, in scenes of glory,
I sing the new, new song,
'twill be the old, old story
That I have loved so long.
[Refrain]

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, August 18, 2012