Good morning, faithful readers and thank you for all the positive and encouraging comments and emails you've been leaving me. I can't tell you how much each one means to me and how they help to confirm this new venture the Lord has opened up for me. I'm enjoying it and feel inspired to keep on keepin' on!
I'm trying a new tea this morning ~ Bigelow's Cinnamon Stick. So good and what a delicious aroma! It would go great with a big cinnamon roll with cream cheese frosting from our local bakery, but alas I'll have to enjoy the tea without it. I try to comfort myself by saying I'll save a few calories, but somehow that doesn't quite make it! Sigh...
I am thinking about Sundays this morning, not surprisingly because it is Sunday! But I am remembering Sundays from my past, during my growing up years. Back then, (this is where I slip into my old geezer mode!) Sunday really was much more of a day of rest. I can remember when I was in my teens that Missouri had a blue law. This meant that most items such as clothing couldn't be sold on Sunday. The stores would rope off those areas where you weren't allowed to shop. Sundays were generally quiet and it was unthinkable that our family wouldn't attend church. Sunday afternoons were lazy and I remember visiting friends or just hanging around the house. We always had a delicious Sunday dinner and then we'd get ready to go to our church's evening service.
Fast forward...I moved to Los Angeles when I was 22 years old. Until I rededicated my life to Him in 1995, I had wandered away from God for many years. During most of those years, Sundays were just another day, a day off from work and a day to sleep in or do whatever I felt like doing. I often thought about my relationship with God and going back to church again, but didn't want to surrender my will to His. I was too busy having fun, or so I thought. But Jesus was doing a work in me through those years. I'm sure the heartfelt prayers of my mother had a lot to do with Him keeping His hand of mercy and grace upon me. The power of a praying mother can't be overestimated. In May of 1995 I was back in Springdale, AR with my mom, visiting my aunts. My Aunt Joy popped in a Gaither video for us to watch and that was the beginning of my return to the Lord. Something began to stir in me and the music affected me in ways I would never have imagined! I felt as though I had completely run dry when suddenly a fountain opened up before me and Jesus stood there offering me a drink of living water for my thirsty soul. I wanted to cry. This began a journey that I'm still on. Not long after this I returned home and began to search for a church. I could write another blog about my wonderful church, but I'll save that for another time. Suffice it to say that it's been a journey I wouldn't trade for anything, and each day grows sweeter and sweeter with Jesus. During the bad times and the good times, He is there. He is my Rock, my Shelter and my Strong Tower. Amen.
As the card says, I'm thankful for you!