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You are here: Home / Archives for life

Alpha and Omega

January 9, 2019 By admin

I enjoy seeing a need and starting a group or service for that. I am a pretty great starter. Yet I am coming to the end of one of my life ministries. I have facilitated a women’s support group in my city for about 12 years. Funding for my work has disappeared and the group members aren’t able to pay to attend. I remember when I first started a support group and the pastor at that location mentioned that he had been taught that ministries often run active for about five years. So this is well overdue by those standards.

In our last session one of the group members was troubled about needing to end a draining friendship with someone who refuses to change. I tried to encourage her that sometimes there are “necessary endings” for all of us–divorce, death, moves, job loss, separation from unhealthy or damaging relationships.

I have noticed some of my Facebook friends have been pruning their friend lists and dropping those who don’t contribute, don’t play nice, or don’t match their interests. When we have limited time, energy, resources and life–pruning in some way is necessary for the health of an institution or a person. Author Dr. Henry Cloud states: “To hold on to ‘hope’ when what you really have is merely a wish is to fail to grasp reality.”* He also reminds us that the past is the best predictor of future behavior as relates to relationships.

Jesus modeled and taught the necessity of endings. After he made some very plain and pointed statements, many of his early disciples walked away (John 6:66). We have no record that Jesus ran after the deserters or that he knocked on doors that evening to beg them to return. Later Jesus told his mission-driven disciples that if they weren’t welcomed in towns or homes, to “shake the dust off your feet” and leave (Matthew 10:11-14). Time came when Jesus ended his earthly mission for the next step in our salvation and redemption (Mark 16:19, 20).

The loss of a meaningful or time-consuming activity– one driven with passion and prayer, can lead to some grief or aimlessness. It can also open ways for other people to find their mission and create new services as God leads. Letting go can open up space previously occupied in our hearts.

Books, movies, series, classes, cereal boxes, bank accounts–everything ends.

In so many ways I am in the school of learning to become a gracious “ender.” I am left with mixed feelings about something that I still feel is important and not duplicated in my community. If I am honest, I feel sadness, anger, some relief, and anticipation at this ending. What

might happen next? At ending times, can I trust God to help re-shape my life and legacy, and make good use of my remaining time and talents?

Questions for personal journaling or group discussion:

1. When have you benefited from an ending?
2. What/whom might you be hanging onto that needs to end?

Karen Spruill writes from Florida.

The post Alpha and Omega appeared first on Answers for Me.

Read more at the source: Alpha and Omega

Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

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Filed Under: Dear God, News and Feeds Tagged With: city, deserters, facebook, health, jesus, life, mission, necessity, personal, seasons, shake-the-dust

The Royal Robe of Heaven

January 3, 2019 By admin

Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.

Read more at the source: The Royal Robe of Heaven

Article posted on en.intercer.net from Rose’s Devotional.

Rose’s Devotionals are prepared by Rose Hartwell, one of the Intercer founders. Since 1999, Rose sends out a daily devotional newsletter that includes a commentary on a Bible passage, a list of prayer requests for the current week and an illustration from daily life that applies to the Bible passage in study.

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Filed Under: News and Feeds, Rose's Devotional Tagged With: adoption, boys, child, god, life, news and feeds, noble, personal, royal

Mountains and Valleys

December 28, 2018 By admin

by Melody Tan  |  29 December 2019   | I remember the day I realized I had fully accepted Jesus into my life, 20 years ago. It was a day filled with so much joy and peace. I had given my life up to God, which meant that He could do whatever He wanted with it […]

Read more at the source: Mountains and Valleys

Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Adventist Today.

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Filed Under: Adventist Today, News and Feeds Tagged With: day-filled, jesus, life, melody, much-joy, remember-the-day

The Unexpected Ship

December 25, 2018 By admin

What amazes me about people is that even though some are faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, they move ahead with courage and hope.

I’m inspired by their dreams and their determination to press on. I recently met one such individual in the little mountain community of Volcano, California.

Dorothy Stiegler is not your typical sixty-something woman who quietly waits to retire so she can sit in her rocker. She is a seasoned and renowned blacksmith artist who loves to hammer raw iron or bronze into beautiful pieces of functional art. She loves riding motorcycles and relishes working outdoors in her vineyard and rock garden.

I first met Dorothy while visiting her church as a guest speaker on a warm summer day. Something about her demeanor hinted that she was living the dream God had planted in her heart, so I wanted to know more. What I learned is that Dorothy’s life has not been easy and that over the years God has patiently led her through some very difficult times. One such moment occurred when she was in her twenties. Looking back now, she firmly believes that God saved her life.

It happened in late February of 1974 near Olympia, Washington, where Dorothy lived with her husband and 5-year-old son, Grant. She was a pretty, slim young woman who had long flowing red hair that hung below her waist and was parted down the middle.

A Visit to the Park

That day Dorothy took Grant to the park close to their home. Priest Point Park is located along the lower Olympic Peninsula coastline, just outside Olympia, and has one full mile of saltwater shoreline. The 314-acre park has steep ravines, cliffs, boardwalk style walkways and extensive old growth timber. It is a truly spectacular paradise of adventure for a 5-year-old boy.

Upon entering the park, Dorothy noticed they were practically the only people there. Except for one other car, the parking lot was empty. They played on the swings and walked the winding remote paths from one area of the huge park to another.

The only other person in the park was a well-dressed businessman. Quite striking, he almost seemed out of place. When she first noticed him, he had on a red plaid hunter jacket over his neatly pressed clothes. As Dorothy and Grant swung higher and higher, the man watched as her long hair drug in the sand.

As they continued to move throughout the park enjoying their play, Dorothy noticed the man observing them, although he was no longer wearing the plaid jacket but was now wearing a light-yellow, button-up shirt, pleated khaki slacks, and dress shoes. Wherever she and Grant went, the man seemed to be nearby. It was almost as if he was following them. His gaze made Dorothy uneasy. Assuming she was being oversensitive, she brushed it off.

As time went by, Dorothy felt the man was genuinely watching her, giving her a growing sense of discomfort. Taking Grant’s hand, she said, “Let’s go play on the cannons!” As they ran along the path towards the cliff above the channel, Dorothy prayed to God for a sign; “Dear God, if this man means to do us harm, let there be a large ship in the Sound.” She felt safe with this prayer because in all the times she had come to the park, she had never seen a large ship anywhere near that area. Certainly, if one were there, it would be a sign from God.

As they approached the cannons, high on the cliff overlooking the water, the largest ship Dorothy had ever seen sat directly in front of her. It was a huge freighter, dead center in the middle of the channel, directly below where she stood. The ship sighting was so completely unusual that she felt, surely, it was just a fluke. She ignored the direct answer to prayer, the warning sign of danger.

Trying not to alarm her son, she said, “Grant, let’s go down to the beach!” The single path down to the beach was steep and slippery. It had been carved by the brave and adventurous who wanted to descend the more than 200 feet to the water below. Carefully, Grant and Dorothy made their way to the beach. They played among the driftwood and kelp piles that remained behind when the tide retreated.

Suddenly, the man was there on the beach between them and the trail up to the park. He lounged at the trail head, puffing on his pipe, looking out at the water. She could see his brown eyes, shadowed by his dark brown hair, looking passively in her direction. He was tall, about 6 foot, give or take. “He’s a very handsome man,” she noted, attempting to convince herself that he wasn’t a threat.

Although he did not approach her, Dorothy felt increasingly unsettled by his presence. She tried to convince herself that she was over-reacting, being unreasonably concerned. “Maybe it’s only a coincidence that he happens to be here, standing between us and the path back up to the park,” she thought.

After spending a few minutes at the beach, and half-heartily convincing herself that the man was benign, Dorothy felt she needed to head for home.

The trail was the obvious route from the beach back to the parking lot. She reasoned that he would probably step aside if she were to try to go past him, but something deep within told her not to go near him. There was an alternative route–a steep cliff nearby that could be scaled if one was willing to put forth the effort. Dorothy thought this could be disguised as a fun adventure for Grant, for she did not want to alarm him. Grabbing his hand she said, “Let’s go climb a mountain,” in a tone she hoped sounded cheerful.

Even though Grant was only 5 years-old, with Dorothy pushing him uphill, he was able to climb the steep cliff. It felt like an eternity to reach the top, but the alternate route gave Dorothy the time she needed; they moved quickly toward the parking lot.

At the parking lot, Grant wanted to have a pine cone war, and despite her better judgment, she conceded. Dorothy kept an eye out for the man as they threw pine cones back and forth, but he was nowhere in sight. She felt relieved that her fears had not materialized, so they continued their war, dodging and darting about. They drifted toward a very large old growth Western Cedar tree.

Eminent Danger

Suddenly, the man jumped from behind the tree, just three feet from her, and looked her squarely in the eyes. What Dorothy saw sent chills through her entire being. His eyes were flat, cold and devoid of anything human. Without question, he was a predator, she was his prey, and he was ready to capture her. Her blood ran cold, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She wet her pants. She was terrified!

The world around her moved in slow motion, but Dorothy reacted instantly. She turned, ran toward Grant, grabbed his hand said, “I’ll race you to the car.”

They ran so fast it was as though they flew to the car, easily 500 yards away. She sensed the man racing right behind them. Flinging open the driver-side door, that was thankfully left unlocked, Dorothy threw Grant over to the passenger seat so hard, his little body rebounded off the window. Slamming the door, she bolted the locks, and quickly started the engine. She could hear the engine of his car roaring in her ears as she ducked her head and sped away.

Dorothy raced her little Corvair the 2 miles to the Olympia Sporting Goods store owned by her husband Ed’s parents. She ran into the store, dragging Grant behind her. Ed and his father were gunsmiths and worked closely with the local law enforcement. There were always two or three Olympia City policemen in the store and that day was no exception.

As Dorothy stammered out her story to her family and the policemen, they laughed and made jokes about it. They said things like, “If you weren’t so friendly…” and “If you weren’t so pretty…” and “ You’re such a flirt, you probably imagined it all…” They heard her words, but not one of them actually listened.

They blamed her for the encounter. No one wrote down a single word of her story. Over the months following the incident, Dorothy’s family and friends took opportunity to tease her, saying things such as “Seen any more good-looking, scary men?”

It was the most frightening encounter that Dorothy had ever had. Who was that man, and why was he after her? Although she told her family, the police, and her friends, describing in detail the event, Dorothy wondered why no one believed her?

Then the local paper reported the abduction of Donna Manson, a young woman from Evergreen State College. She was never found. At the time, the Lake Sammash abductions hadn’t happened. With the exception of one woman from the University of Washington and Donna Manson, no one was missing from other college campuses around the state. No one was looking for a serial killer.

As time went on, several abductions and gruesome murders of young women took place in Washington State by a serial killer calling himself Ted. Still, no one saw any connection between the park incident and these murders.

The Moment of Truth

About 18 months later, Dorothy ran up the stairs from the sporting goods store to the kitchen. On the table was the Daily Olympian newspaper. The front page ran a photo of a man who had been captured and suspected of the now infamous “Ted” murders. She nearly fainted. “That’s the guy!! That’s the man who followed me in the park!” She knew that this was the man who had stalked her and intended her harm.

“That can’t be,” her family scoffed, “That’s Ted Bundy, the serial killer.” “I don’t know who he is,” Dorothy insisted, “but that is the man in the park.”

Dorothy believes that she may have been one of the few victims to escape Ted Bundy’s grasp. Police later re-interviewed her. They concluded that, initially, Bundy was not leaving witnesses and that, in all likelihood, the presence of her son Grant could very well have saved her life. Additionally, they believed that, had he killed her, Donna Manson would be alive today.

Why Donna Manson was taken while Dorothy was spared is a mystery. But Dorothy is certain that God spared her life for a reason. This is why she dedicates her life to serving Him each day.

“Truly, O God of Israel, our Savior, you work in mysterious ways” –Isaiah 45:15 NLT

Dorothy Stiegler writes from Northern California.

The post The Unexpected Ship appeared first on Answers for Me.

Read more at the source: The Unexpected Ship

Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

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Filed Under: Dear God, News and Feeds Tagged With: answers for me, beach, church, dear-god, donna-manson, inspire, israel, life, murder, park, water

The Gift of Ciara

December 18, 2018 By admin

Ciara was our first child, born during the lazy days of summer when hopes were high and dreams weaved themselves into the fabric of our lives. As first-time parents, we folded and refolded tiny rompers and snuggly sleepers, placing them gently in the newly purchased dresser that smelled of pine. A package of newborn diapers sat by the door, waiting. My bag was packed — for one on the trip to the hospital; for two on the trip home. Pacifiers, blankets and a couple of outfits, as I couldn’t decide which one would look the best, lay zipped inside.

My husband Roy and I drove to the hospital early that July morning for a c-section, eager to meet this little person that had grown inside of me for nine months. We took pictures — Quick! Get one of the bassinet — that’s where they will place her when she’s born! Or Here we are — 15 minutes before it all begins! And then — Here we go!

And then she was born. Immediately they whisked her away, her tiny cry echoing through the white-washed walls that kept me company as I was deserted by a crowd of whispering doctors and hustling nurses. Wheeled into recovery, Roy zipped in and out, giving me quick updates that lacked detail and left room for concern. “She’s so tiny,” he said.

“But is she okay?” I asked, begging for reassurance. There was no answer.

A doctor came in, his face somber. Her arm is crooked…she only weighs four pounds…she has trouble breathing and needed to be resuscitated… The list continued and my dreams crashed!

As they rolled me to my room, we stopped at the nursery so that I could see my baby — my baby that I had dreamed for, and prayed for, and longed for. I placed my hand on her chest, touched her, held her in the only way I could — and ached inside.

The next few days crashed together, filled with doctors with long faces and tragic news that seemed to spiral endlessly. We went home, just the two of us with cries of “Why, God?” screaming in our heads. We closed the door to the baby room as it taunted us with the smell of pine and an empty cradle. And we wept.

A few days later I sat in my car at a stop light and looked around me. The girl in the car next to me sang her heart out, unaware of my piercing eyes. The older man in the pickup truck wore a half-smile, his thoughts evidently elsewhere in a place that brimmed with good times and pleasantries. How could it be? My thoughts raged. How could all of these people find happiness while my world caves from despair?

But then I held her. I held this little bundle that was fragile and broken and beautiful and perfect and mine. And I loved her. Instantly, I loved her.

At last we got a diagnosis: Trisomy 18 — an extra 18th chromosome that gave my baby an early death sentence. And so we brought her home and I promised to fill her life, no matter how short, with all good things: birthday parties, Christmas presents, Easter egg hunts, satin shoes, and dresses trimmed in lace. No matter that she would never walk, never hold up her head, never say ‘mommy’: she would know love and compassion and warmth. She would understand security in my arms.

And then we buried her. It was a cold winter day in January that Ciara was laid to rest in the western plains of Oklahoma at the tender age of eighteen months. The wind bitter, I wrapped my coat around me and gazed out into the eastern sky that Ciara’s eyes would greet when Jesus came to take her home.

And now, three healthy kids later, I am so grateful for the gift of  Ciara — so thankful for what she taught me in her short life, and the hope her memory brings. What began as the most devastating, tumultuous time of my life became the defining moment that taught me what it really means to live.

My heart bled sadness that day; yet she left me with new words of compassion to share with those who are burdened with a staggering heart; new eyes to see beauty and worth in those whom others deem unfit; renewed hope in a future that shines brighter than the sun. She left me with the memory of her smile, vibrant and alive.

Vonda Seals writes from Keene, Texas.

The post The Gift of Ciara appeared first on Answers for Me.

Read more at the source: The Gift of Ciara

Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

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Filed Under: Dear God, News and Feeds Tagged With: birth, crushed dreams, during-the-lazy, easter, fear, hopeless, life, memory, story-harvest

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