A Gentle Reminder

Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you. Psalm 116: 7

Life has been busy here in my mountain nest over the past week or two, allowing me little time to meander through the woods as I had been doing throughout much of the fall. The home office makeover, an extra workload for my at-home MT job, and colder than usual weather all played a part in keeping me indoors, away from the beauty of nature. It's strange how one can become so caught up in doing "stuff" that the days run into nights and weeks pass by without one finding the time to pause and look at the beauty that surrounds them.

This afternoon, while still caught up in the "stuff" of daily living, I was busy typing medical reports when a Tufted Titmouse began to peck at my office window, almost as if to say, "Hey, we haven't seen you in the woods lately!" I've had birds peck near the window before, but this little bird just sat there for the longest time looking right at me, furiously pecking at the window every few seconds. It was quite entertaining, and one of those moments when I wished I had my camera nearby. I stopped working and just sat there enjoying this rare show when I noticed the Dark-eyed Juncos flitting about in the yard; their arrival announcing that winter certainly is upon us.

Fascinated by the bird activity going on outside, I put my work aside and decided to go for a quick stroll. I didn't have a lot of time to spare, but that brief walk was such a delightful adventure for me since the temperatures were rather mild today. It was a welcome diversion in my work day. I lingered a bit longer than I should have, but being outside surrounded by nature and the arrival of the Juncos made me realize how much I've missed spending time in the woods. It was also a reminder of how quickly I can get busy doing "stuff" and neglect to take time to "stop and smell the roses."

I was amazed at how much the woods had changed in just a week! Many of the leaves have fallen providing an open and spacious view of the mountains, which also makes it easier to see various birds flying about from tree to tree. The reflection of the sky upon the pond made the water appear azure blue in color, creating a soothing and serene picture of beauty. A Junco that perched nearby me on a stump reminded me once again that the harsh winter weather is rapidly approaching. I inhaled a little deeper, tarried just a little while longer, soaking in fall's beauty, knowing it's time is short.

Sometimes we all need a gentle reminder to pause and be still for just a bit. I'm so thankful for the visit of the Tufted Titmouse at my office window today. Had the tiny bird not pecked on my window, I probably would have continued to work, caught up in the busyness of daily life, forgetting the beauty that lies just beyond my front door.

Anxiety Prescription

When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul. Psalm 94: 19

Working as a Medical Transcriptionist, I type a lot of medical reports each day, and it seems the majority of patients are taking something for anxiety-related issues. Based on my own calculations, roughly seven out of every ten reports includes prescriptions for anxiety drugs. I see this trend on a daily basis. I believe these drugs do serve a purpose, and when used properly can provide helpful treatment for patients who truly need them, but not all anxiety needs to be treated with medication. God often uses our anxiety to draw us near to Him. If we are quick to medicate our anxiety, we may never learn what it means to depend on God to meet our needs.

Lately, I've been reminded of the need to seek God during anxious times. I've been experiencing extreme anxiety over the past months that often keeps me awake into the wee hours of the morning. This has been happening more frequently as I enter the "change of life" season. I've been talking with older woman who have gone down that path, and they assure me that anxiety and nervousness escalates due to changes in hormone levels during this season of life. I've always been prone to worry about things, but that was mild compared to this new anxiety I've been feeling.

As I struggled to relax enough to sleep again last night, I opened my Bible to the Psalms and began to read. It was no accident that the first passage my eyes fell upon was Psalm 94: 19. "When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul." I was once again amazed at how God's word is never outdated and how it always provides direction for us through each circumstance we face. Right there in scripture is our anxiety prescription! The Psalms contains some of the most beautiful passages of scripture ever penned, many written from the pens of anxious, depressed, distraught, and fearful psalmists. I wonder if the Psalms would have been written if the Psalmists would have chosen to medicate their anxiety.

When we focus on God's promises and His amazing love for us rather than our fears and insecurities, we find consolation in His truth and we will be filled with peace and joy. That doesn't mean our worries are going to vanish or that we will never experience them again. It simply means that we experience inner joy by accepting our circumstances and trusting God with the outcome. True joy doesn't necessarily mean feeling happy, because happiness is based on happenstance; we are happy only when things around us are going well. Joy is a inner attitude of peace, comfort, and trusting God regardless of what is happening around us.

We live in stressful times and each day we face financial struggles, health issues, difficult job situations, concern over children or grandchildren, fear and uncertainty about the future, etc. These fears and anxieties are real and unpleasant, but there is a prescription that works. When we surrender all of our anxieties to God and trust Him for the outcome, His consolation will bring true joy to our souls.

"Not So Extreme" Home Office Makeover

For those who have asked to see them, here are the pictures of the finished home office project!

Last week I decided to do a mini, not-so-extreme makeover on my home office, better known as my "Writing Nest." I kept it simple, using left-over paint from last falls kitchen remodeling project. I put new sage green curtains up and moved a few wall hangings around, nothing major. I love the color yellow, because it always makes a room look sunny and bright, and it's a nice change from the cold-looking white walls. It was a lot of work to move everything around and paint while working for my at-home job in between, but I am very pleased with the outcome and it was worth the effort.

The small offset corner in the room has always been my favorite part of my home office. It's nothing fancy, but I wouldn't trade it for the most expensive office in the world. While I'm busy working during the day, the small offset provides a visual reminder to take some time to be still and know my Heavenly Father. It's my place of rest; the place where I start each morning; the place where I can sip a cup of steaming tea, listen to music, read, and pray. I feel so very blessed to have a room complete with a "quiet time" corner to call my own.

A Special Thank You

I thank my God upon every remembrance of you. Philippians 1:3


Today is a special anniversary for me. Seven years ago, October 24, 2001, I became involved with a wonderful online ministry: First Place/Outlook. It has changed my life, and I am so grateful and thankful for the wonderful people I have met by belonging to this group.

I have grown so much in my faith through the online Bible studies we completed as a group (22 altogether, soon to be 23). I have made friends from all over the world, and many of these friends are like family to me. They are the first ones I call upon when I need prayer, and they are the ones who have truly been there for me more times than I can count. They have inspired me in so many ways, and always have time to listen and share encouraging words.

Since today is my First Place anniversary, I wanted to say a special thank you to each one of my First Place sisters in Christ for all you have done to inspire me to never give up and to keep going, no matter what. I won't mention specific names for fear I would forget someone. You know who you are! The encouragement and support you have given me regarding my writing has been a blessing, and I have appreciated every email, card, and letter that you have taken the time to send my way, always overflowing with your kind words and inspiration. What an incredible blessing you have been and continue to be in my life! Where would I ever be without each one of you?

When I started this blog, I was so afraid to step out of my comfort zone and share my writing, but as usual, as has happened many times in the past, it was you ladies who have become my biggest supporters and my cheering section. I probably would have given up by now if not for your thoughtful words. Thanks again to each of you! I'm so thankful for the blessing of your friendship. I look forward to continuing our First Place journey together!

The Woodstove

Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Ephesians 5: 19-20

It’s that time of the year again; the time when chilly days give way to cold nights, temperatures start to flirt with the low 30s, and we awake to frost blanketing the land. The eerie chill over the house means that the inevitable is about to happen….the lighting of the wood stove. It’s a yearly tradition I’ve come to dread, and one I’m praying desperately to feel more thankful about.

Wood is our main source of heat for the winter months, and anyone who has experienced the role of being the one to keep the home fires burning will understand the trials of heating solely with wood. It is not a job for the faint of heart or for those who enjoy uninterrupted nights of sleep.

I don’t feel very thankful for my wood stove most of the time. Actually, I have a love/hate (mostly hate) relationship with the old black stove. It’s an older well-seasoned model, rather ugly in appearance (unlike the cuter potbelly models) and the handle doesn’t open easily; I often have to whack it with a chunk of wood to get it to budge. I’ve jokingly compared the old black stove to a newborn baby, because of having to “feed” it so frequently and often having to get up at night to check on it.

I have several justifiable reasons for hating the old stove. Keeping enough firewood cut, split, and stacked to last the entire winter is a full time job in itself. Getting the stove to light can be a challenge at times also, as it can be rather stubborn to get started. At times, especially on windy days that cause a downdraft in the chimney, it gets a contrary fit and smolders, filling the house with a hazy wood smoke stench. Burnt fingers and wood splinters don't help to instill feelings of fondness either.

The stove becomes my obsession during the winter months. It’s the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, “Is the stove out?” It’s the last thing on my mind at night before I go to bed, “I better bank the stove up for the night.” When I go away I worry about it, “I wonder if the stove is out…I hope it s not smoking…I hope the house doesn’t burn down.” It’s the first thing I run to when I arrive home after being out, “Better check the stove!” Each morning I run down the steps praying to open the door and see at least a few smoldering coals, often being greeted instead with gray ashes glaring at me, meaning once again I have to re-light the stove. This same scenario is repeated if for some reason I have to leave the house for more than a few hours during the day.

I’ve tried to develop an attitude of thankfulness about my old stove. To its credit, it does provide a wonderful warm heat unlike any other kind of heat. Since I work from home, I’m able to look after the stove during the day. Wood heat is an extremely warm and consistent heat, and I’m thankful that I have a home to heat. Like a home cooked meal simmering on the stove, heat makes a home cozy and inviting on blustery days. It’s also inexpensive and saves hundreds of dollars each year that would be spent on purchasing oil or paying higher winter electric bills. It provides a good exercise workout. I get upper body strengthening each time I have to whack open the door. Since the stove is down on the basement level of our home, I do a lot of stair-stepping in the cold months. In a sense I have my own home fitness circuit complete with strength training and aerobic workouts, all for free!

God’s word says we are to be thankful and give thanks for all things, and I guess that includes my ugly old wood stove. As with anything in life, we can either choose to look at the positive side or to dwell on the negative. We truly do have so much to be thankful for each day and many reasons to praise God for the abundance of blessings we enjoy, regardless of the circumstances surrounding us. My mom used to say, “Don’t ever complain, because someone somewhere always has it much worse.” I’ve found that to be true over the years. Many of the things we complain about are rather silly and foolish, just like my complaining attitude about the wood stove.

As the cold nights and chilly days become a reality once again, I pray that I’ll keep a thankful attitude and a grateful heart for the blessing of a warm home, and for the old black wood stove, as I once again, with hesitation, resume my seasonal role as the one who keeps the home fires burning.

Sunday Drive...Reflections of Fall

How awesome is the Lord Most High, the great King over all the earth! Psalm 47: 2

Aubundant Blessings

You care for the land and water it; you enrich it abundantly. Psalm 65: 9

A soft rain was falling this morning as I headed off on my morning walk; the cool mist feeling rather invigorating as it brushed my face, restoring freshness to my mind after a restless nights sleep. A gentle breeze was swaying throughout the trees causing a shower of leaves to fall over me in a kaleidoscope of colors, reminding me once again of the blessing and wonder of God’s creation. The fall foliage is at its peak now, and the mountains are overflowing with abundant beauty.

I never tire of the woods. Being surrounded by nature brings peace and relaxation while at the same time bringing excitement and adventure, and a walk through the woods always seems to be a good prescription for whatever ails me. Cares seem to drift away in tune with the snapping, cracking, and crunching of twigs and leaves under my feet. The sweet, musky scent of the woods relieves anxiety as I inhale deeply savoring nature’s perfume. Depression is lifted as I wander through the woods, because it’s impossible to be surrounded by God’s beautiful creation and not fill overwhelmed by a sense of thankfulness and gratefulness for all that He has given me.

Just as God enriches the woods with abundance and beauty, He also enriches us abundantly with His love and grace. Often we neglect to look to Him to meet our needs and instead turn to other people or other things that only leave us feeling empty. God is truly all we need. His provision is far more abundant, far above and beyond what anyone else or anything else can provide for us. When we seek Him, and allow Him to drench our souls with His amazing love and grace, like the woods in fall, we will come alive with newness of life and experience the abundant blessings that only come from walking with him.

Legacy Of Poetry

I was delighted when I came across my mothers book of poems 17 years ago on my birthday. She had passed away the year before, and we were sorting through some of her things when I found an old notebook containing the poems she had written. Her legacy of poetry was the best birthday gift I ever received, along with the handwritten journals and diaries she kept most of her married life as a farm wife and mother. None of her writing or poetry was ever published, and she never intended it to be. She wrote simply because she enjoyed writing.

I was looking back over her poems recently and was especially touched by one she wrote about the children growing up. I'm also dreading facing that empty room one day, but feeling blessed by my mothers legacy of poetry that is such an encouragement to me 30 years after it was written, as my three oldest children have grown up and left home and the reality of the empty nest looms ever so near.

The Children's Room

As I tuck my little boy in his bed each night,
and pull the blankets up around him tight,
"Goodnight, Mommy and Daddy love you," I always say,
then kiss him, and so ends another day.

This little ritual started many years ago,
how many times I'll never know,
with my first little boy, who was such a joy,
he's married now with his own little boy.

There was also a little girl, she was oh so dear,
and I went in that room for many a year.
they were my life, they were my world,
she's married too, with her own little girl.

Now this last child is growing taller each day,
and I know before long he'll go his own way.
Oh, time please slow down, and don't pass too soon,
for I sure hate to face that empty room.

Written by Janet L. Leasure (1979)

Misty Mountain Mornings

I have swept away your sins like the morning mists. I have scattered your offenses like the clouds. Oh, return to me, for I have paid the price to set you free. Isaiah 44: 22

A thick mist often descends upon the mountains in the early morning, making it difficult to see beyond the smokey haze. When outside it can make one feel a little disoriented at times, almost causing you to feel imprisoned and unable to escape its suffocating effect. I'm always relieved to see the mist fade away and to be able to see the beautiful scenery again.

Sin is like a thick hazy mist. When trapped by sinful habits that hold us in bondage, we can feel suffocated, unable to see beyond where we are. Thankfully, we have a Heavenly Father who sets us free. It's comforting to know He sweeps our sins away like the morning mist! No sin is too big for God to sweep away. All we need to do is call upon Him and seek forgiveness.

Its fascinating how the everyday things in nature, that we often take for granted, allow us to see scripture so clearly and provide us with a visual reminder of God's promises. I'm thankful for the blessing of misty mountain mornings, and the reminder that just as that mist dissipates giving way to the beautiful scenery, God likewise sweeps away our sins and sets us free.

Little Mission Field In The Big Woods

The older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things...that they may admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God not be blasphemed. Titus 2: 3-5


"No other success can compensate for failure in the home" was the saying that adorned a sampler I stitched years ago with the picture of a cozy, cottage-like house on it with smoke curling out of the chimney. It resembled the quaint little house my grandmother used to live in. The framed sampler hung above my kitchen table as a much-needed reminder of the value of my work as a stay-at-home mother. There is a lot of truth in that simple little saying.

Unfortunately, success in the home seems to be the last thing on the minds of many women today. It seems they would rather be anywhere other than at home. They run from one place to the next, always finding somewhere else to go, always looking for fulfillment outside the home. In doing so, the most important mission field of all, the home, is pushed aside, neglected and forgotten.

God often brings unsaved people to our home mission fields, through family members, friends, or friends of our children, which gives us a unique opportunity to touch the lives of each person who passes through our doorway. We have a wonderful opportunity to share the gospel with others as they see our faith lived out in our homes. If we are always focused on things away from home, vital ministry opportunities will be lost.

Though caring for things in the home often has little importance in the lives of women today, God's word affirms the importance of a woman's role in the home. God entrusted us with the care of our homes and loved ones. Being wives, mothers, and homemakers should be seen as blessings, not burdens. In Titus 2: 4-5 the older women are instructed to teach the younger women several things, and one of those things is to be homemakers, "so that the word of God may not be blasphemed." God's word is blasphemed when we profess to be Christians, but fail to walk in obedience to what His word tells us to do. Many unbelievers want nothing to do with the church and the Christian faith because of the hypocrisy of those who profess to be believers, but fail to live out their faith. Through scripture we learn that caring for the home is one way for a woman to live out her faith.

The Proverbs 31 woman was a skilled home manager and looked well to the ways of her household. It is interesting to see how she cared for the things inside her home before pursuing other things. This certainly does not mean women should only do things inside the home or not have jobs outside the home, but it does bring to light the importance and priority of women caring for their homes and loved ones before being involved with things outside the home.

This is not a popular topic today. From elementary school through high school, young girls are encouraged to focus on career and education. This is so embedded in our culture today that the young girl who would desire to be a wife, mother, and homemaker without a career would be looked down upon. We don't teach our daughters that it is okay to pursue homemaking, and instead we push them down the career path exclusively. There is nothing wrong with girls pursuing careers, but we also must teach them the importance of homemaking and the value of the home as an important mission field. Many young girls today lack homemaking skills and have no idea how to manage a home. Sadly, many have never seen it modeled in their mothers, and what they have seen modeled is discontentment with being at home and a focus on things outside the home. The older women are so busy and caught up in their own lives that they don't have time to teach the younger women anything, and tragically the things some older women would teach the younger women would be far from biblical truth.

I wonder how often have we bought into the world's way of thinking rather than listening to what God's word says about our roles as women? How often do we live selfishly in pursuit of what we desire rather than what God desires for us? Are we content in our homes, seeing them as our primary area of ministry? What are we teaching our young daughters regarding how to manage a home?

We must prayerfully seek God's wisdom daily, taking seriously our roles as wives, mothers, and homemakers, and remember the importance of the home as our greatest mission field. We can have great success outside the home in many areas, but if we fail at home, we have failed. No other success will ever compensate for failure in the home.

Quiet Waters

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his names sake. Psalm 23: 1-3

My soul was truly restored as I sat by our pond this morning, mesmerized by the thousands of diamonds sparkling on the surface of the water, basking in the beauty of nature. In a world filled with stress, I'm so thankful for the Shepherd who leads me to places of refreshment, away from the chaos of everyday life.

How I wish I would have learned the importance of being still long ago! I'm slowly learning to make time for rest and renewal in a world that seems to be in constant motion. As I look back on the past, I recall years passing by where I barely noticed the changing of the seasons; years of being so busy that I rarely stopped to look at the beauty surrounding me. I just kept going, rushing from one thing to the next, always doing something, never taking time to be still. Like many women, I had fallen prey to the "superwoman syndrome." Deceived by the world's standards of success, I listened to the lies, believed I could do it all, and believed that success meant adding one more thing to an already full plate of activities.

God's way is always the opposite of the world's way. He never intended for us to be superwomen, just women who walk by faith and in obedience to His word; women who trust in Him. In 1 Peter 3: 3-4 we learn that a woman with a gentle and quiet spirit is of great worth in God's sight, and that women in the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful by the gentle and quiet spirits they possessed. It's nearly impossible to have this inner beauty when we are stressed out and always rushing about. In order to cultivate gentle and quiet spirits, we must learn to be still before God.

I often wonder how many diseases and psychological disorders today are the result of unrelenting stress. It seems the "superwoman syndrome" only creates sickness, and leaves us feeling empty, exhausted, and irritable, suffocating any glimmer of quietness and gentleness within us. It renders us ineffective and weary, with no energy left over to do the things God has placed us here on this earth to do. We are a generation of women who have forgotten how to be still.

Only when we still ourselves from the busyness of life will we be able to cultivate gentle and quiet spirits. Our Shepherd is waiting to restore our souls and give us rest. We simply need to call upon Him. True rest will not be found elsewhere; it is found only in the One who leads us beside the quiet waters.

Morning Walk

How many are your works, O Lord! In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. Psalm 104: 24

As I walked through the woods and by the pond this morning, I was once again reminded that the wonder of God's creation surrounds us everywhere, and that we can find extraordinary beauty in the midst of our ordinary days. The simplest things are often those which are the most beautiful! I marveled at the reflection of the sky mirrored in the pond and again in a creek bed sprinkled with colorful leaves, a pure white flower peeking out from among spindly stalked weeds, the precise aerial and landing skills of Canadian geese, and how the brilliance of golden leaves illuminates the woods even when the sun isn't shining. Just ordinary things we don't often think about, yet extraordinarily beautiful; beauty only seen when we choose to slow down and soak up the wonders of God's amazing world.

Autumn Memories

Autumn was her favorite season of the year. It’s also the time of year when I miss her the most. It’s the season when old memories are awakened with the rustling of fall leaves.

I approach the old farmhouse, so familiar, yet so foreign. Now empty and abandoned, it has never been the same without her. It was her presence that brought life to the old farmhouse and made it warm and inviting. I glance up, almost expecting to see her smiling face looking out the kitchen window. Instead, I am greeted only by multihued leaves dancing across the yard, proclaiming the arrival of fall. My mind is filled with recollections of flowers swaying about dressed in the finest shades of yellow, orange, and crimson red. I can almost see her kneeling there by the flower beds, garden trowel in hand, sweet look of contentment on her face.

I recall plump orange pumpkins lining the steps that seemed to beckon visitors to stop in for homemade pumpkin pie and gingerbread. Various gourds, pumpkins, and cornstalks always decorated the yard. Somehow, it never resembled the yards I saw in Better Homes and Gardens or Southern Living magazine. Our yard was a place to have fun. Leaves weren’t something to be raked, gathered up, hauled away or burned. They were something you raked up and jumped in while she laughed and took pictures with her old Kodak camera.

I can almost smell the delicious scents that seemed to be carried along with the crisp fall breeze. Aromas from her kitchen signaled autumn’s arrival just as sure as the changing leaves and the falling temperatures. There always seemed to be an abundance of apples and pumpkins at harvest time. Visitors were often enticed into her kitchen by the smell of fresh baked apple pies that lined the farmhouse table. Pumpkins from the garden were turned into cinnamon-spiced pumpkin pies. Melt-in-your mouth pumpkin bread awaited us on chilly evenings. Homemade stews and soups simmered on the stove all day, ushering us in from evening barn chores.

I recall treasured memories of afternoons spent with her in the kitchen learning to bake. Too small to reach the top of the table, I stood on a stool while she patiently taught me to bake my first batch of brownies. It never seemed to matter if the flour was spilled on the floor and the table a mess. For some reason, her housework never seemed to be very important either. She always had time to stop whatever she was doing to spend time with us kids. Memories surface of getting off the school bus and seeing her waiting in the doorway, always smiling and happy to see us. Homemade cookies, still warm from the oven, often sat on the old farmhouse table seeming to welcome us home after a long day at school. She always made time to listen to our silly school stories. Secrets were safely kept within the confines of the old stone farmhouse walls.

Life itself seemed to revolve around that old farmhouse table at times. Many home cooked meals were served there, but it was much more than just a place to eat. It held the old Singer sewing machine on days when mending needed done. It was the place where clothes were cut out and sewed, poems were written, scrapbooks were made, photos were pasted in photo albums, board games were played, and laundry was folded. It was the place where newborn babies were placed on thick soft towels and received their daily sponge bath. No expensive or designer décor ever graced the old farmhouse table. It always displayed a homemade centerpiece. We would help her gather brightly colored fall leaves each year. These were placed neatly on a tray and surrounded by miniature gourds, Indian corn, and tiny pumpkins. She never found the need for anything expensive or fancy. She was content with her faith in God, being there for dad and us kids, and taking care of the old farmhouse.

Staring at the abandoned house, the golden leaves dancing beneath my feet seem to be in tune with the bittersweet emotions racing through my mind. It seems like yesterday I was a little girl jumping in the leaves. I was the little girl standing at the table baking pumpkin pies and brownies. Childhood seemed like an eternity then, and death was a distant thought; something that happened to old people. She was the constant presence in our lives; the one you could count on…the one who I thought would always be there.

As sure as the arrival of autumn seems to freshly awaken old memories each year, it also induces new seasons of life. Those carefree childhood days with mom by my side seem so recent, yet so distant. I’ve since grown up and have watched my own four children grow up. Now my grandchildren are the little ones standing by my side. I can only pray that one day the memories I leave for my children and grandchildren will be as sweet as the ones mom left behind for me; memories that might once again be awakened by the rustling of fall leaves.

Bird Brained

Even the stork in the sky knows her appointed seasons, and the dove, the swift, and the thrush observe the time of their migration. But my people do not know the requirements of the Lord. Jeremiah 8: 7

The birds are starting to migrate south for the winter. It seems like only yesterday when I was excited over their arrival in the spring. Now, summer has faded into fall, and I’ve noticed fewer hummingbirds at my feeders over the past few weeks. I love fall, but I always miss the hummingbirds when they leave.

My Bible reading this morning was quite timely, since I was thinking about the fall migration of the birds. As I read Jeremiah 8:7, I pondered with delight the fact that God mentions the dove, the swift, the thrush, and the stork in His word to make a powerful statement about obedience. We can learn a few things from the birds! Everyone has probably heard the expression “bird brained” used in a derogatory way to mean someone unintelligent who, like a bird, has a small brain. I am quite amused by the verse in Jeremiah stating how the birds know the time of their migration, but God’s people don’t know the requirements of the Lord.

The people in Jeremiah’s time kept turning away from God. They were heading in the wrong direction, sinking deeper and deeper into sinful living. Instead of “flying” God’s way, they continued on their own, ignoring God, doing things their way.We see this happening all around us today, and many of us, myself included, do it our way more often than we care to admit. We make excuses for not obeying God’s word. One of the most popular excuses is: Times are different now, so we can’t really _____ (fill in the blank). We always seem to find reasons to excuse sinful behavior, perhaps blaming it on someone or something else. The medical community often comes up with a new “psychological condition” for sinful behavior. None of our excuses will hold up when we stand before God. God’s word does not change, and God does not change. His word is still truth whether or not we choose to see it as truth, regardless of the time we live in.

I recently listened to a sermon on the radio, and the speaker stated that the popular song “I Did It My Way” is the song they are singing in hell, because nobody in hell did it God’s way. We need to remember that. Maybe we should even take a few lessons from the birds. Perhaps we could all stand to be a little more “bird brained,” and like the birds, observe the ways of our Heavenly Father, and walk in obedience to what His requirements are.

Creative Homemaking

I have a bad case of “fall fever.” Summer is slowly fading, and I’m seeing subtle hints of autumn as the appearance of yellowing leaves peek out from among the green treetops. The woods are perfumed in their musky-sweet fall scent, awaiting their transformation into a beautiful masterpiece as the mountains come alive in splashes of golden yellow, pumpkin orange, and crimson red.

The first hints of fall and chilly mornings make me think about vegetable soup and beef stew simmering on the stove to warm the house on chilly days that are not quite cold enough yet to fire up the old wood stove. I can almost smell spicy pumpkin pie and nut-laced pumpkin bread as it cools on the kitchen counter. Apple pies, crisps, and dumplings all make their appearance in my kitchen in the fall. Gingerbread, warm from the oven, topped with dollops of whipped cream is another fall favorite at our house.

I’ve always loved fall, and it seems to bring out my domestic side more than other seasons. I especially enjoy autumn decorating. The house always looks brighter with the addition of plump pumpkins, colorful leaves, and the loudly dressed scarecrow dolls I made one fall, many seasons ago, while babies and toddlers were tucked in bed for their afternoon naps.The changing of seasons gives homemakers a chance to express their creativity. Like artists, we can use color and design to create lovely and cozy homes for our loved ones and visitors to enjoy. Whether we are single or married women, we can make our home a place where others feel welcome; a place that can be a haven of peace and rest for those wearied by the demands of the outside world.

Having a loving and inviting home does not require money or expensive decor. Simple things like colorful fall leaves in a basket for a table centerpiece, a neat and tidy room, a lit candle, a cup of tea and encouraging conversation, or a simple home cooked meal can make a home loving and inviting.

When family and guests enter our doorway, what do they see? Is our home inviting? Is Christ reflected in our home? Is it a haven of rest or a chaotic mess?

Simple Pleasures

I like washing dishes and consider it equal to a good therapy session. Few women understand my enjoyment of what some consider to be the “dreaded domestic chore,” but that’s okay. I can’t help the way I am. I come from a long line of women who enjoyed it. My mother and both grandmothers all taught me the therapeutic value and simple joy of washing dishes by hand.

Mom even thought that whatever ailed her could be cured at the kitchen sink. A homebody, she hated going to town and would always get a “town headache” (as she called them) if she had to run errands away from the farm. Upon her arrival back home, she said she would feel better if she could just get her hands in some hot soapy water and wash some dishes. It always seemed to work. Some of my earliest memories of mom are those times I stood by her side, barely able to see over the sink, helping her wash dishes. There seemed to be something peaceful about the sloshing about of the water, the pleasant aroma of the dish washing liquid, and the clinking of silverware, plates, and glasses together that provided a sense of security to me as a small child.

Grandma Mitchell was passionate about her dish washing, enjoying it so much that she rarely allowed anyone to help her, which was probably a good thing since her dish water was so hot that the average person couldn’t even touch it. Apparently, Grandma's hands were immune to the steaming hot water. I once remarked that the water was too hot, to which she replied, “Ahh! Good heavens! You have to have your water hot enough or you won’t get the dishes clean!” I can assure you her dishes were sterilized. I treasured those times I stood by her side drying dishes, almost too hot to handle, and listening to her recount stories of her childhood days. She told me that having dirty dishes meant you had a lot to be thankful for, because it meant you had plenty of food to eat.

Grandma Leasure was known for giving young brides a bit of advice regarding dish washing. She would say, “Always do up all your dishes at night so you can start the day with a fresh and clean kitchen.” She told me that there was a great sense of accomplishment in washing dishes and seeing your kitchen neat and clean. I recall her giving me that advice when I was too young to fully understand what it meant. After I became a young wife and homemaker, I found her advice to be true! There is nothing like starting out each day with a fresh and tidy kitchen, and there really is a sense of accomplishment in seeing clean dishes stacked on the dish rack.

My friend, Darlene, who is from that same generation of older women, refuses to use the dishwasher in her new house. She grew up in a home with no running water. They had to carry water from outside and heat it on the old cook stove in order to wash dishes. When she got married, she had inside plumbing for the first time in her life and was surprised at how easy it was to wash dishes with running water inside. To this day she loves to wash dishes, considers it fun, and refuses to use her dishwasher.

I have fond memories of washing dishes with my mom, grandmothers, aunts, and cousins after family meals. The time spent cleaning up was a time when the women could connect with one another. Many jokes were shared and memories were made around the kitchen sink. Holiday meals created massive amounts of dirty dishes, which gave us several hours to catch up with one another. It was usually “women only” in our kitchen. The men often would head off to the living room to watch TV or fall asleep. We never thought that was odd; it was just the way it was. Nobody complained about the men not having to help. It was accepted that clean up and washing dishes was mostly “woman’s work.” We embraced our role and looked forward to our time together. There was a bonding that took place around a pan of hot, soapy water. I remember how special I felt when I was old enough to join the women in the kitchen. It seemed to be a rite of passage into womanhood for us younger girls. Great bursts of laughter and cackling was always heard coming from the kitchen. I was delighted when I finally got to join in with the fun.

Contentment is often found in the simplest things. I wonder if joy in the simple tasks of daily living is what’s missing among women today. Hundreds of dollars are spent on antidepressant drugs, and therapists often charge over a hundred dollars for an hour-long therapy session. The strange thing is that most women are still depressed even while taking drugs and going to therapy, always needing more and more drugs and therapy. I wonder if women would once again embrace the simple pleasures of domestic life if there would be less depression and discontentment in the world today.

There truly is something therapeutic about having your hands in hot, soapy water. As the dishes soak, I feel my cares being lifted away. Washing dishes allows me to pause from the busyness of the day. It is a time I can think and reflect upon life as I gaze out the window. It’s not uncommon to see deer walk through the backyard, see the squirrels chase each other up and down trees, or see a flock of wild turkeys or Canadian geese passing through; things I would miss if I wasn’t standing at the kitchen window washing dishes.

I am thankful for the blessing of dirty dishes and for the blessing of a long line of women who taught me the value of contentment in the simple things of life. My mom and grandmothers have since passed on, but they left behind a rich legacy of memories. Memories of lessons learned, laughter shared, and priceless time spent together around the kitchen sink.

Stormy Nest

The Lord does whatever pleases him, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths. He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth; he sends lightning with the rain and brings out the wind from his storehouses. Psalm 135: 6-7

I woke up to the sound of thunder rumbling and lightning flashing through my bedroom window early this morning. Between the loud claps of thunder, I heard a bird singing outside in the midst of the storm, as if it was any other ordinary day.

It was quite timely this morning when my daily Bible reading passage contained Psalm 135. As the storm raged outside, I was reminded of who is in control of storms; the storms outside that rattle the windows, as well as personal "storms" of life that we all encounter from time to time. It's not a matter of if we will go through storms, but when. Nobody is immune to life's difficulties.

God allows us to go through various storms for a reason. He has a unique purpose for each of our lives and nothing happens outside of his will for us. It is never easy to face difficult situations, but if we accept each storm knowing God is in full control, we will be more likely to "sing" in the midst of those storms when they come.

Our attitude is a huge factor in how well we cope with the storms of life. Learning to accept them, and truly believing that God is in control, will enable us to walk through them much easier than if we try to fight against them. At times we won't understand why certain things happen and that is okay. We don't always have to know why. Sometimes life just doesn't make sense, and it won't make sense this side of heaven. We don't always have to have a solution to the problem. We don't always need to fix things. We only need to trust in the One who can calm the storm. I find it reassuring to realize we don't always need to figure things out and that we can rest assured that God knows what He is doing.

Contentment and peace comes when we surrender our difficult circumstances to God and trust In Him for the outcome. Then, like the bird singing in the midst of the storm this morning, we likewise can be joyful enough to sing in any circumstance, because we know the creator of the universe holds the outcome in His hands, and is working all things together for good for those who love Him.

Courted By The Most High

Sunlight flickered through the window of my home office, enticing me to put aside my work and go outside for an early morning walk. Without hesitating, I grabbed my camera and went downstairs, eager for an excuse to indulge myself in my new hobby of photography. The smell of the woods engulfed me as soon as I stepped out the door, reminding me that fall is almost here. The mountains exude a unique aroma in the fall of the year; a musky, sweet, spicy fragrance that is nearly intoxicating. Inhaling deeply, I was lured away into the woods, as if being courted by the Most High. The first light of day peeked between the towering trees creating a sunlit path for me to walk on, almost as if to woo me away from the cares of the day.

Meandering along the sunlit path, I was serenaded by charming bird songs resonating from the treetops; a captivating concert consisting of a cardinal’s song, the sweet twittering of the finches, and the pecking of a Woodpecker nearby. At times they sang solo, and at times they would join together in unison reverberating throughout the woods in heavenly harmony.

I paused to watch a butterfly dancing among the last of the summer wildflowers. Only a few yellow and orange blossoms remain on the spindly browning stems, permitting the flowers to command full attention amidst the end-of-summer foliage. The stellar performance of the butterfly dance seemed to be celebrating the beauty of the few enduring flowers.

A symphony awaited me by the side of the creek as I stopped to listen to the sound of the water trickling over the rocks, resounding forth its refreshing melody. The sun glinted through the leaves, creating a multitude of sparkling diamonds upon the surface of the water that sparkled in tune with the trickling symphony; a token of nature’s beauty.

Overcome with thankfulness for the beauty of a simple morning walk through the woods, I paused by a crooked little tree, that beheld a unique beauty of its own, to say a prayer of praise to the Most High; A prayer of gratitude to the One who blessed me with the sweet woodland fragrance, a butterfly dance, the creek’s symphony, sparkling diamonds, and a birdsong chorus. There is nothing like being courted by the Most High!

I will praise you, O Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of your wonders. I will be glad and rejoice in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High. Psalm 9:1-2