Hello Dear Friends,

Our family just finished reading a dear 19th century novel called Joel: A Boy of Galilee. It wraps the truths of Jesus' ministry on Earth with the fictional tale of a little boy who is healed by The Master, and then follows Him watching the events of the New Testament unfold.

Part of the story is Joel's transformation: from revenge seeking, to loving and forgiving the boy who made him lame. Joel learns that the hideous revenge he had longed to seek before he met the Messiah, had happened to his forgiven foe at the hand of another. Longing for others to be healed as well and unaware of the previous night's events, Joel set out to find his forgiven foe and bring him to Jesus for healing.

Upon returning from his unsuccessful journey, Joel learns that Jesus was crucified. "'Oh, wasn't there one to stand up for him?' he cried, with clasped hands and streaming eyes...'Oh if I had only been there!’ he moaned. 'If I could only have stood up beside Him and told that He had done for me! O my God! How can I bear it? To think he went to His death without a friend and without a follower, when I loved Him so!...’”

Two thousand years later, we understand how Joel feels. For this, we Testify!

With Christ's Incredible Love,
      Janel Messenger
editor of The Christian Woman's Page

"For thy Maker is thine Husband" (Isaiah 54: 5)

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up and His train filled the temple (Isaiah 6:1). In the year my husband died, I saw the Lord lifted up as He kept me from losing my mind over my broken heart.

Tuesday, June 27th, 1989. Weather forecasters were predicting it to be a scorcher. To be sure, it was. There was no hint that Tuesday morning that my life was to be forever changed.

The compressor of the air conditioner was already humming away as I walked around the yard making sure all the equipment my son and husband needed was visible. He was on a "honey-do" vacation. The original plan for that day was to work in the yard. A phone call changed that; a business appointment popped up.

"You're on vacation," I muttered incoherently to no avail. "Come on and go with me. I'll be finished by 11:00. Then we can do the lunch thing," he yelled out as he closed the shower door. Our daughter, who was running late that morning, said "Mom, tell Dad I said bye; have fun, go with Dad. It's going to be hot today…be comfortable and cute!"

We'd planned to have many lunches that week to begin the celebration of our 25th wedding anniversary, three weeks away. Three major layoffs in the last twenty years left the budget too tight for an elaborate celebration, but we had each other and that was all that mattered.

"See, I told you I'd finish quickly. I'll do the yard tomorrow," he said as we drove into the parking lot of the restaurant. It was only 11:30 AM. He was right. The meeting went quickly.

Lunch lasted two hours. Words of love, laughter, and devotion flowed between us. There was no hint of danger; no clue that my husband would be gone in a matter of minutes; no way of knowing we were saying goodbye to each other.

Other diners began to arrive, and the quietness was broken. We had finished dessert and were still lingering in the moment. One thing that meant so much to me was his affirmation of our life together, the giving up of my career to stay home with the children. They were in college. We could now begin planning our lives together to do what the Lord had planned for us to do after raising the children.

Diners dining at a table one level up and to the right of us were served a dish-cooked tableside. There was a loud audible sizzle followed by a plume of smoke. My husband began to cough. "That must be shrimp," he said. My husband had an allergy to shellfish and was uncomfortable in the presence of the shrimp cooking.

He was still coughing as I got into the car. His inhaler was not with him; he'd not had an episode in years. I wanted to stop at a nearby pharmacy to purchase one but he wanted to go home. I didn't want to argue so I kept going...

The pharmacy was the only one between the restaurant and our home. After making the jug-handle turn, one eye on him and one on the highway, his breathing changed; he started gasping for air. "Jesus help me, help me, " he kept saying. "Honey, I'm heading for the hospital," I said with panic. What we didn't know was that he was in the last stage of anaphylactic shock, the severest form of an allergy attack. Accelerating over 90MPH heading for Rancocas Hospital, we didn't make it.

I pulled over to the shoulder, ran over to the passenger side to help him. I saw in his face a look only the Lord was able to take away from my memory. I began to scream.

Sudden death! In golf, it means more game; in medicine, it means the game's over. Looking back over a game's history is the sport of newscasters. Looking back on the Lord's goodness is the job of the Redeemed. "Let the Redeem of the Lord say so! (Psalm 107) Praise God my husband was already saved; there was no time for him to have received salvation.

There are many steps in the process of bereavement, forgiving yourself is one of them. The "if only's" and the "why didn't I" and the "I'm so sorry I" complicate the bereavement process and add to the sorrow immensely. It's too late to say things you now realize you should have said. In light of the emptiness and sadness of his passing, I've had time to contemplate the issue. I now realize that it was so minute in light of eternity.

If your spouse is still living, and you have some "stuff" that needs to be brought before the Lord to be forgiven, it is a better thing to forgive or ask forgiveness now. Jesus will help you walk through it if you ask Him. If your spouse has passed away, ask the Lord to help you have peace regarding a matter that is unforgiven.

Two years before my husband died, we joined a fellowship that placed heavy emphasis on raising up Godly men. The husband's role in family devotions and husbands and wives praying together daily were key elements. At our 10th anniversary, we'd had a Marriage Encounter® Weekend. It taught the principles of couple-prayer, but tides (work schedules) and time (family obligations and children's activities) got in the way of keeping up that good practice.

My husband prospered spiritually from that experience. As he and I spent more time together in prayer, I was heavily impressed by the Lord to do some forgiveness work. He and I talked a lot about issues we'd placed under the rug, so too speak, but never dealt with. I needed to get over the anger from the financial loss we suffered from the last job layoff. It had been six years, and still hanging around in the atmosphere was the resentment of the event and what it had done to our financial, emotional well-being. In addition, unbeknown to me at the time, I was in the early stages of Menopause!

Returning from the Emergency Room of the hospital with my son, I heard the inner-voice of the Holy Spirit (John 16:13) say to me, "You'll get through this better if you trust me," as we walked across the door-sill into the house.

Losing one's spouse, according to mental health experts, is high on the list of stress-makers, and not without reason. I've termed the days between death and burial as pre-burial stress. From the moment death occurs until burial, the frenzy begins. The activity is well meaning and a necessary blessing. Constant phone calls, people coming and going with meals or cleaning your house, condolence conversations, and pastoral, funeral personnel visitation.

Receiving the Death Certificate from the funeral director the day before the funeral created a cruel reality I was not prepared to face. Seeing my husband's name listed as Deceased was a stress-maker. The funeral director brought the certificate to our house explaining how and under what conditions I'd probably need them. (Let me make this suggestion to anyone who might need to have this knowledge: Take as many copies as you can. You'll be surprised how many times you'll need one.)

With Pre-burial stress your state of mind changes minute by minute. Trying to come to grips with the death that is replaying almost constantly the last moments of life. You have no appetite, sleep if any is restless, and concentration is nearly impossible. You most likely won't be able to read all those books or magazines you'd like to tackle.

Herein is the difference for the believer. Even though we grieve, when we know Jesus as Savior and Lord, we don't grieve as those who have no hope (1Thess. 4:13). In the beginning, the pain of the loss is more of a reality than the Word of God, but the Word has to be held higher than feelings of grief.

There are levels of pre-burial phenomena that seem to be universal. Other widows I've spoken with have similar remembrances. After the death but before the funeral was a gray area. Head-knowledge and sensory-knowledge were out of sync. My intellect knew that my husband had passed away; I saw him die. On the other hand, my sensory head kept saying, "this is a dream, why can't I wake up." It was surreal.

This semi-reality continued as I traveled through condolence conversations, burial plans, and the actual service. This is what I've termed the rituals. The rituals do help make tolerable the immediate sense of loss.

Post-burial: a surrealism sets in with its vagueness that greets you upon wakening, hangs around all day, and is still there when the day ends. There are levels of post-burial stress. The first one starts right after the rituals are done. Did it really happen, why can't I wake up from this bad dream? Jesus, I can't do this."

My children and I did what the Lord said, and we saw the Lord repeatedly, pouring in the oil and the wine. The Word of the Lord became the very food of my life. I began to live only by the Word and words of God. As a widow, I was restored by the restoration power of the Word. Mourning with me, explaining why the loss hurt so much, never chastising always explaining. "Jesus, I can't do this" became "Thank You, Lord, for Your faithfulness."

I saw the Lord comfort my children and me with the truth Jesus spoke in Matthew 5:4 "Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted." Comforted by His Word. Kept by the power of the Word. There were times when all I could pray was, "Lord help me get through the next fifteen minutes with Your comfort and Your peace" (John 14).

Remember this is a process, and it must run its course. Don't try to rush it. Writers who comment on what's going on in the culture via print are fond of the term The New Normal. The new normal for widows is "For thy Maker is thine husband; the LORD of hosts is his name; and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel; The God of the whole earth shall he be called" (Isaiah 54: 5 KJV).

"What I have planned that will I do." - Isaiah 46:11 (NIV)

I had just been through great amounts of loss in my life. I lost an old friend, my sister, my father, and my health. Now I was housebound due to my illness. I sat alone wondering, what's next Not long after this, my friend Sue, told me that her husband was offered a new job in another state. They would be moving, soon. Sue and I had been friends through thick and thin since the fifth grade. I would greatly miss our regular visits together.

I had other friends, but they lived hectic lives. Our contact was infrequent. I really desired a close friend. So, I set my face like flint to pray and ask God to, "Send me a friend." I thought this was an impossible request, since I couldn't get out to meet anyone. But, regardless of these circumstances, I continued to pray. I recorded these prayers in my journal.

One evening my stepdaughter and her soon-to-be fiancé stopped by. As we sat and talked, oddly, Michael mentioned the name of my old departed friend, Patrea. "She was good friends with my mother, Bonnie," he said. I immediately remembered meeting Bonnie at a prayer meeting that I had attended at Patrea's house several years ago. When my stepdaughter learned of that I had been praying, she started working behind the scenes to reunite us.

In the meantime, Bonnie was praying for a new friend. She too, had suffered some losses of friendships. She was lonely and in desperate need of some female companionship. She was praying, "Send me a friend."

When Bonnie heard that we had been mutual friends with Patrea, it instantly piqued her interest. She did not recall our chance encounter twelve years before, but knew inside, that this could be a relationship that might work. As she went to prayer, God began telling her, that she and I would be good friends. Whenever I went to God in prayer, He was telling me that Bonnie and I would be good friends.

I decided to take the first step. I got Bonnie's phone number and gave her a call. We had a great conversation and set up a visit. It has been a match made in heaven. The day finally arrived when Bonnie came to my door. She visits me regularly and we pray, study the Bible, and watch girl movies together. It is as if we were kindred spirits all along. Since that day, not only are we good friends, but relatives, through marriage. What a plan God had all along some twelve years ago, to reunite two people at a time when they needed it most.

Shortly thereafter, I received a second response to this much sought after request. I was given the name of a friend's friend to add to my writing ministry list. As I would send her writings, she sent back responses, telling me how they touched her heart. We became pen pals. What an exciting time it was, making new friends.

As my writing gift started to grow, I felt the need for the friendship of another writer. I needed someone that understood writing. I wanted another writer to bounce off issues and ideas with. My other friends were very supportive, but they lacked that personal understanding. My rationale was, when I was a nurse I had several nurse friends. So, I continued in my prayer this time for a specific kind of friend.

A short while later, the answer came to this request, when I came across the book of another devotional writer. I was reading some stories on a favorite web-site of mine, and was fascinated by the information given about this author. I was intrigued by the name of her book, Celebrate Life and the fact that she too, was a devotional writer.

Something inside of me felt the need to order her book. As I was putting the order information in the envelope, there came a thought... Why not send her a few writings of your own? So, I did. About two weeks later, her book arrived with a note thanking me for my writings, and an invitation to e-mail her. I excitedly accepted the invitation and after a few e-mails. I knew our friendship had begun.

God had a plan ready to answer my prayer for new friendships, even though my circumstance made it seem utterly impossible! I continue to marvel how He answered my prayer, not once, but three times, as I recorded it in my journal ... "Lord, send me a friend."

When I remember being in
the wait
I thought at first "what a terrible place to be."
"Doesn't God know how much I want a child?"
It would mean so much to me.

In the wait-
my heart could relate to the women of old.
Like Sarah, Hannah, Elisabeth and many others,
who desperately waited for a child to hold.

In the wait-
I wondered  "what was god gently doing
in their hearts and mind?"
As some day these same women
would raise godly leaders,
I thought-"maybe it wasn't a waist of time."

In the wait-
His timing and ways are perfect,
this I have learned it's true.
And if I had more time I would love
to tell the God story, to each one
of you.

When I remember being
in the wait,
I thought "What a terrible place to be.
Doesn't God know that my husband
isn't being the spiritual leader,
I think he should be to me?"

In the wait-
I would say to God "don't you
see how he's acting, isn't it
my job to point that out?
Won't that hurt our boys and me?"
And sometimes a little embarrassed,
I didn't want my church
friends to see.

Then so gently but a little stern
God did say,
"Thou will keep you in perfect peace,
if your mind is stayed on Thee."
I thought- "could He be actually
talking to me?"

In the wait-
can be a fearful and lonely place.
Many tears I have shed,
many rolling down my face.
Then God held me close and said,
"I will fight for you, you need only
to be still.

For he's my son and I began a good work in him that
I can only fill."

Being still- could this work?
could God know what He is
talking about?
But now I've seen in front row seat,
His power in display.
For His Holy Spirit brings change,
I only get in the way.

In the wait-
I think has more to do with
our hearts than our circumstance.
It's not as terrible as I once thought,
going through it, I thought, by chance.

In the wait-
God has a way of changing my
eyes to see,
how He views my husband , my love,
their dad and what a servant
he really is to me.

In the wait-
I've learned that I had been
painting a picture of what my life should be,
then He asked me for the brush
and He started to paint the
picture of what purpose,
He had for me.

So if you are still holding your
paint brush and holding
it so very tight.
May I encourage you dear sister,
it will be an uphill fight.

God loves you so much, and
He is our only way, the truth
and real life.
Anything we go through on
our own,
will bring us more fear, bitterness
and strife.

You see when I was
in the wait for a child,
and in the wait for my husband,
He was waiting for me.
My heart, my bended knee.
I guess in the wait isn't such a
terrible place to be.

Staying strong in your marriage commitment - even through the fire!

I loved my new church! It was vibrant, exciting and on the cutting edge. The pastor was a talented and charismatic speaker and singer, the church was growing and impacting the community, and I felt so blessed to be a part of it all!

We had just relocated to this quaint little town in Northern California because my husband was starting a new job. Although my husband was not a Christian at that time, he was supportive of my desire to get involved in my new church. And it didn't take long before I was participating in many different aspects of ministry, such as heading up the nursery program, planning retreats for the ladies and even teaching occasionally when called upon by my pastor.

During this time, I developed a close relationship with my pastor and his wife among others in the church body. We would all get together after the Sunday night service and go to a local restaurant, enjoying lively conversation and Christian companionship. There were many times when I would call my husband just before we went, to see if he minded my going. I could hear in his voice that he just wanted me home and was feeling left out, buy I chose to do my own thing.

As time progressed, I found that I received enormous pleasure and acceptance in my relationship with the pastor. He became a close friend and mentor and I found myself flattered by his attention and friendship, feeling a type of approval that I had never known. We began talking on the phone regularly, expanding our relationship beyond the usual get-togethers with our mutual friends.

There came a turning point one hot July afternoon. My little boy was napping and I was having my daily phone conversation with the pastor, when he stepped over the line. He revealed his interest in me as more then just a friend and so began the worst season of our lives. This romantic involvement quickly progressed to an ugly, out of control situation, involving my husband and the entire church.

As you can imagine, my husband was furious, his only consolation being that nothing had happened sexually between the pastor and myself. And believe it or not, it was around this time that my husband became my best friend! As blame, accusations and rumors were being tossed around town like hand grenades, my husband was a shelter for me, becoming a steady source of comfort and forgiveness.

Three Safeguards for Marriage
In hindsight, I see three major safeguards that I bypassed. If you find yourself tempted by a too-close friendship with a man other then your husband - I believe the following safeguards will be helpful:

1. Trust your husband's judgment
God intended that my husband would be so much more then "my other half". He is my protector, many times seeing another man's unrighteous intentions long before I do. He was never comfortable with my close friendship with the pastor and while I felt it was okay because it was under the guise of "church" he was always wary. Men know how other men operate, just like women know how other women operate. Trust your man!

2. In transparency there can be restoration
Restoration could only come when I became completely honest with my husband, bringing the whole, ugly situation out into the light. And now, if I ever find myself becoming secretive or evasive, I know its time to tell him all that's going on in my life.

3. There is safety in accountability
One of the greatest ploys of the devil is to divide and separate us from the rest of the body of Christ. As I entered into this romantic friendship with my pastor, I became more and more secretive and isolated, no longer making myself accountable to my close friends. Which is exactly why it is so important to keep a network of good Christian friends that are allowed access into our lives - trustworthy girlfriends that we can pray with and tell absolutely anything too.

Trust, transparency, and accountability - the safeguards for a happy marriage!

What does a man gain from all his labor at which he toils under the sun? - Ecclesiastes 1:3 (NIV)

"Look at that!" I exclaimed to my husband. Construction workers were nailing vinyl siding on the old two-story house across the road from our lane. "They're going to have siding before me - and that's a camp!"

Even though two of our three children are grown up and on their own, there's still neither time nor money to finish a project we started more than 20 years ago - building our own house. I'm beginning to despair of ever getting it done.

We planned to put the patio roof on this year. Then, a winter wind storm ripped off one-fourth of the barn roof. What time my husband would have spent on the patio roof, he now spends on the barn roof. And that's the way it goes, year after year. There's always something.

There must be more to life than struggling day after day, year after year, to acquire things that wear out, break down, fall apart or become obsolete. Wouldn't it be better to spend my time and money on things that last?The late missionary Jim Elliot said, "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

I cannot keep my material possessions - they don't last. I can't even keep my life - it, too, will pass. What I CAN keep is God's love for me, the salvation He gives me through His Son and the reward waiting in heaven for me.

Sometimes I get my priorities mixed up. I forget what my real treasures are. When I get to heaven, it won't matter that I lived in an unfinished house here on earth. What will matter are the time and money I invested in things that made a difference for eternity.

When I get to grumbling about my lot in life, O Lord, remind me that it's not the "lot" but the "life" that counts. Amen.

Have you ever felt exceptionally ordinary? Whether your position at work or in the community is one of stature, have you ever caught yourself feeling down right simple? Sure you have. We all have.

It may not happen often but everyone once in awhile we all have those days when nothing goes right and we are left feeling much too generic to make a difference. If today happens to be one of those days for you, there is good news. In Psalms 116:6 we learn that "The Lord preserves the simple."

To preserve means: to keep or maintain intact. When we are at our lowest point, feeling like we are going to bust at the seams, God has his strong hand on us keeping us intact. Oh, we may loose it for a moment or two; we may even act uglier than we would like to admit, but in the end God preserve us-the simple ones.

Today happens to be one of those days where I don't feel simple. On the contrary, today I feel strong and confident. When I woke up, I enjoyed a good cup of coffee, I spent time in prayer with God, and before I finished, I handed over my to due list to Him. I told Him what I would like to accomplish and prayed that He would help me prioritize. By the day's end, I praised God as I discovered that I had accomplished much more than I had set out to do. So today, I don't feel particularly simple - I feel good.

However, I've had plenty of those other days when I don't feel so good. When I barely get out of bed and the problems begin. You know, those miniscule problems that have the ability to peck away at your confidence and strength. On those days, not only do I seem to struggle in my prayer time, but my beloved coffee either comes out too weak or tastes like mud. By the time I head off to work my mood has departed from bad and has lunged towards worse.

As a Christian, I demand a higher standard of living for myself so that I may represent my God well. As I pursue this desire daily, you would think I would always feel strong and confident but I don't. All too often I feel common, ordinary, and simple. It's then when I try to dig myself out of the funk I've fallen into that God reminds me, regardless of my feelings, He'll keep me intact. Whether I am weak or strong, confident or simple, He will preserve me and I can feel good.

God knows exactly how to maintain and keep us intact regardless of our moods or how our day seems to shape up. If today is a day that everything is going right and you find yourself walking in confidence and strength-recognize God as your source. On the other hand, if today is one of those days when things seem to go from bad to worse. Or you find yourself busting at the seams and counting yourself inadequate and much too simple then be encouraged. You and I are simple and being simple is good. For God has said He will preserve us-the simple.

I was in the middle of a craft project when my husband came into my workroom, sat down heavily, and stared across the table at me. He was not smiling

“What’s the matter?” I asked, though a glimpse at the clock was all I needed to know exactly what was wrong.

“I didn’t get the job,” he replied.

I sighed and shook my head. “I just can’t understand it!” I said, and I couldn’t. He had been studying and taking tests - tests which he had passed with flying colors - to certify him to be an electrical inspector for either the city or the county, all the while checking on the Internet for any upcoming job openings. One had come up for the neighboring county, and he had collected his references, certifications and resume and sent them in. His interview had been scheduled for Monday. That morning I had gotten up early to make him breakfast, trying to be helpful but not in the way. We were both nervous, and we didn’t talk much. As he went out the door, I handed him his cell phone.

“Will you call me on the way home and let me know how it went?”

“Sure,” he said, then he gave me a quick kiss and left.

I stood at the door until his truck disappeared around the corner, and then I went back inside and cleared off the table - all the while watching the clock, wondering how things were going. I prayed, I paced, and I waited impatiently for the phone to ring, but he never called. Just as I started to really worry I heard the truck pull up. I flung open the door and watched as he gathered his things up, got out of the truck, and walked slowly up the driveway. He didn’t say anything until he got inside, and then he dropped his briefcase down on the side table so hard that the cats ran out of the room.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing happened,” he said, and slapped his keys down on top of the briefcase just as hard.

“What do you mean, nothing happened?”

“Exactly what I said. Nothing happened. I didn’t even get to see the boss. They told me last week that I was going to be interviewed by an inspector, a supervisor, and the department head, but instead I only got to see one of the inspectors and a fire marshal, of all things.”

“A fire marshal? Does a fire marshal have the authority to hire electrical inspectors?”

“None that I know of. And they didn’t even ask me any questions!”

“What did they do?” I was trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“Well,” He said, sarcastically, “for about 15 minutes they sat around and chit-chatted with me, and then they told me that if I didn’t hear by Friday, I didn’t get the job.”

And now it was Friday, past their closing time, they had never called, and after a week of running to the phone every time it rang it was pretty clear that there was no hope for him to be hired.

“I guess it really was a fake interview, after all,” I said.

“Yeah.” He sat there for a moment and stared off.

My heart ached for him. I prayed silently for the right words to help him through this. It seemed like he needed me to listen to him for a while, so I didn’t jump right in with advice and I didn’t try to talk him out of being upset. Then he let loose - or at least as much as Jonathan ever “lets loose.”

“I was completely qualified - more than qualified - for this job! I got all the certifications, I have the background and experience - heck, I even have a college degree! I have more than some of the guys they’ve already hired for these jobs!” Then his voice tightened. “I didn’t even get to see the boss! What do they want over there?” He stared at the floor for a moment, and then said, “I guess all this studying and expense to take these tests was just a big fat waste of time.”

It had taken time, too. Jonathan had been laid off for almost a year. His unemployment had run out, we had gone through all of our savings, and now we were basically living on credit cards. There wasn’t even any possibility for us to get a loan because we’re not homeowners. Things were looking pretty bad for us. But we had prayed, and the Lord had made it very clear to us what he wanted us to do: He wanted Jonathan to get these electrical certifications and then go on to get certified to do building inspection, and He wanted me to continue writing - even though for the time being neither of us would be bringing in much of any income.

As the months slipped by, sometimes late at night, lying there in the dark, I could feel the panic welling up. But I refused to give place to it. I made a decision a long time ago to trust the Lord no matter what was going on. So, though my imagination wanted to take me down some pretty dark roads, I refused to let myself think about all the dreaded “what if’s.” Not that those thoughts didn’t come. But I remembered a teaching from Kenneth Hagen - he used to say that thoughts could come to you like a bird landing on your head - but you didn’t have to let it make a nest there. So when the thoughts came - fear of the future, insecurity, even escape - I said “NO!” And then I would start on my gratitude list: Thank you, Father, for sending your Son to us. Thank you, Jesus, for saving me. Thank you, Jesus, for being my friend - for guiding me, directing me, comforting me, and taking care of me. Thank you, Jesus, for the plan you have for our lives, and for revealing it to us. Thank you that you take care of us, no matter what. Thank you that I am safe, protected, taken care of. Thank you that you will never leave me nor forsake me. I would say to myself, “I will count blessings like sheep until I go back to sleep,” and I always did.

“Jonathan,” I began, “you know, the Lord’s not surprised that this has happened. God knows everything, and that includes everything that’s going to happen to us. So God isn’t sitting there in heaven going, ‘Oh, my goodness - Jonathan didn’t get that job - now what am I going to do?’ No, He knew this was going to happen, and He had already taken it into consideration. God has a plan for your life, and it includes the extra time we need for you to find the job He has for you. I know it’s rough to be rejected - nobody likes rejection. But He has a job for you, and He has a way for you to get it. All we have to do is keep listening to Him, and everything will be all right.”

My husband knows the Lord, knows that He has promised to take care of us, knows that He has a plan for our lives, and, most important, my husband knows that the Lord is a very present help in time of trouble. Though Jonathan knows all of this, and could have sat down and meditated on these things on his own - in fact, I am sure that is exactly what he would have done had I not been there - right then he needed to hear it from another person. I know there have been times when I’ve needed to hear the truth spoken over me.

He heaved a great sigh, and looked at me. Suddenly we heard a scrambling sound, and one of our cats came blasting into the room, leaped up onto the table, whirled around, and then stood staring at the door, tail twitching. Seconds later our 7 month old kitten ran in, looking all around. The minute the cat saw him, he leaped right over the kitten and ran out the door, the kitten in hot pursuit. We both laughed at their antics, and the air seemed to lighten a bit.

“So,” I ventured, “what do you want to do next?”

“Nothing that involves leaving the room - there’s wild animals out there!”

We laughed again. “Why don’t we go into your office and pray,” I suggested.

“Good idea.”

He sat down at his desk, which was covered with papers, open code books and study guides. In addition to a computer, a small TV was set up with a video tape player so he could watch the lectures designed to help you pass the tests. I stepped over boxes filled with more videos, notebooks and test material, cleared some papers off a chair, and sat down. Then we asked the Lord to show us what Jonathan’s next move should be. We had some options. We were definitely in the right place at the right time. Cape Coral was entering a building boom. In fact, it was listed as being the second-fastest growing city in the country, so we knew the jobs were out there. Though Jonathan was already a fully qualified electrician, he was ready for a promotion and the Lord had made it clear to both of us that Jonathan needed to take some time out to prepare for His next move in our lives. But now we were feeling a little confused, so we began by asking the Lord which way Jonathan should go - continue studying for the certifications or go for one of the jobs as project manager for a local construction company.

Just that week, on his television broadcast, Kenneth Copeland had been talking about hearing from the Lord about the kind of specific direction we needed right then. Kenneth said that he would look for the thing that “seems right” - a feeling he would have. He went on to say that if he had several choices to make, he would write them all down and place them before him. Then he would say each one of them out loud, as though that was what he was going to do: “I am going to.....” and then read one. He would repeat this procedure with every choice, each time feeling within how it felt to go that way. He also said that if he did not get any response right away, he would refused to make a move until he was absolutely sure.

Andrew Wommack, who has a large ministry out of Colorado, also talks about getting direction from the Lord in this manner. Andrew advises us to look for the solution that gives you the most peace. He also teaches that if you only ask God: “Is it plan A or plan B?” you may get the better of the two plans, but there might be another plan altogether which God wants you to follow - so you have to be more open to His plan for your life than just plan A or plan B.

We prayed, and we both, separately, felt the most peace about Jonathan continuing studying for the certifications.

We took a little break, shared a snack, and then he went back into his office and I headed outside to do some yard work. I was just beginning to work up a sweat when Jonathan came out.

“Barbara,” he exclaimed, “I am feeling really excited about studying for these certifications. I have a real positive attitude toward the whole thing. I feel great!”

He even looked better. The color had come back into his face, and his eyes shone.

“And, oh - by the way,” he continued, “I forgot to tell you this joke someone sent me by e-mail.” Then he went into Rodney Dangerfield mode - one of his special talents - and said, “I don’t get no respect! My old man always told me to start at the bottom ... I was taking swimming lessons!”

I was so relieved to see him back in action. I said, “Jonathan, do you realize that in 30 minutes you have gone from being really upset to feeling happy and excited?”

He stopped and thought about it. (It was almost as if he had forgotten.) Then he said, “You’re right! I was really upset - and now I feel great! Praise the Lord!”

As I worked in the garden, I remembered a scripture I had read about encouragement, and when it was time to go back inside, I looked it up. It was in Thessalonians 2:16-17… “May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word.”

Well, Jesus had encouraged us that day. That’s the best encouragement there is for any of us - to know, first of all, that the Lord is watching over us - He’s not just standing by, He is actively guiding and directing us into every good thing. And then to know that He has a plan for our lives, and He has a plan for our day, and if we seek Him in everything we do He will take care of us.

We all face times of discouragement. Otherwise, we would not find scriptures in the Bible to help us with this. But the Lord has a way out - a way that leads us into His peace. Even when we cannot see the end of it - even before we have all the solutions, and everything is settled, we can still be in His peace.

“Find rest, oh my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from Him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation;
He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.” (Psalm 62: 5-7)

The most frightening words a woman can hear are, "You have cancer and need immediate surgery." This was the message I received from my OB/GYN specialist after undergoing what I thought was a routine ultrasound. From reading articles, I knew that ovarian cancer was usually very aggressive and spread to other sites in the body. After hearing that doctor's diagnosis, I was in denial and a little angry that this was happening to me. I did not have time to be slowed down by a serious illness like this. It was too soon for me to die, I thought. My ministry in the church as a lay leader was almost at its peak.

Determined to fight back, I demanded to get another opinion to prove the diagnosis was wrong. When the second ultrasound came back with the same diagnosis, I became depressed and started making out a will. I hid the extent of the problem from everyone except one family member. It was almost as if I was ashamed of being sick. Then, one day from somewhere deep inside of me came the thought: Ask God for His opinion on this problem.

Although my faith was weak, I began to pray and to reread all the healing scriptures I had heard about in church. At first they just seemed empty and hollow. But as I began to memorize the verses and rehearse them in my mind and even out loud, something seemed to change. The words of scripture seemed to come alive.

Psalm 103:3 - who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases

Isaiah 53:5 - But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

My faith got a little stronger each day and I began to believe that God would heal this cancer.

With confidence that God was working behind the scenes, I signed the consent for surgery and told the doctors that the tumors they would remove would not be cancerous. The surgeon responded with a polite smile, but insisted that a cancer specialist be on "stand by" in the operating room. On the morning of the surgery, the peace of God came on me in a special way. I was not afraid as they wheeled me into the operating room early in the morning. I had received the "second opinion" from God's word, which was giving me peace and assurance.

Late in the evening, when some of the anesthesia wore off, the surgeon came to check on me and announced that they did not find cancer in the tumors they had removed. They seemed amazed and puzzled that all of their predictions had been wrong. I thanked the doctors for their help and I could only think: How faithful God had been to the promises in His word.

Ps. 118:23 "This is the Lord's doing: it is marvelous in our eyes."

A favorite Scripture comes to mind when I think of evangelism and witnessing. It is found in Colossians 4:5, where the Apostle Paul writes, “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.” (NIV)

My husband is such a good example when it comes to being a strong witness for Jesus Christ. One simple way that he “makes the most of every opportunity” is to purpose to place a few gospel tracts in his pocket before he heads out the door, ready to share God’s plan of salvation with a waitress, a carwash attendant, or anyone else whom the Lord might send his way. He has learned that there is no shame in sharing the gospel. Sometimes he simply hands the tract to someone and encourages him or her to read it, and other times he has the opportunity to turn the pages and communicate the hope that is found in Christ.

I have not proven to be so faithful. My desire is sometimes overpowered by a moment’s hesitation, being fearful or uncertain of what I might say, or how well my words might be received. Isn’t it ironic that God used a faithful witness in my life, over 30 years ago, to put a gospel tract in my hands?

One of my grandmother’s neighbors gave her a tract one day. I don’t know if she ever opened it up to see what was inside, for we never had a conversation about its contents. But she kept the gospel tract in a drawer, and one day while she was cleaning that drawer out, she offered the tract to me. It seemed like a silly little comic book at the time, but I took it just the same. My grandmother had no way of knowing that a few years later, God would use that tract to help me become a Christian. I said the “Sinner’s Prayer,” found on the back cover of the tract, when I prayed to receive Christ. My heart had been drawn to the Savior, and the tract was a bridge to help me cross to His side.

When I hesitate to share my faith with a stranger, I need to remember my husband’s example and my grandmother’s faithful neighbor, and the scores of other Christians who boldly share the message of hope. How difficult is it to leave a tract on a table when I go out to eat, or to offer one to someone standing behind me in the grocery store line? Perhaps God has placed someone in my life, at a precise moment in time, because he or she is ready to hear or read a gospel presentation. Who am I to say? I need to “be wise” in the way I act toward outsiders, not fearful or uninterested.

May God continue to transform my heart so that I am more concerned about a stranger’s eternal destiny than I am about my own selfish agenda. And may God grant me the honor of thanking the young man who lived next door to my grandmother, who had the courage to reach out to her with the gospel of Jesus Christ. He needs to know that his courage has helped me to be a more faithful witness.

Collecting teapots is my pleasure. Anyone who knows me can attest to that. So when my friend began her spring cleaning and came across an old teapot, naturally she thought of me. "I'm embarrassed to offer you this broken teapot, but it's yours if you want it," she said.

I didn't think about it twice. Though it was flawed, I loved it. What a blessing! Adorned with a red rose pattern and golden spout, it looked nothing less than regal. I knew just the place for it. I decided not to mend the handle. Its beauty did not depend on it. Even though it was no longer functional for serving tea, I treasured it just the same.

I transformed the teapot into a vase with a small bouquet of red and yellow roses. The teapot that was once damaged, deemed useless, destined for the trash is now wonderfully adorning a shelf in my home -- a valued gift in my eyes.

Certain circumstances in life have jarred us, causing cracks and mars. The enemy of our soul loves to remind us of our flaws, our failures, our shortcomings. If we allow God to shape us and make us into the people He wants us to be and allow Him to complete His work in us, beauty and blessing will over shadow brokenness.

God sees our limitations, but knows our potential even more. He knows exactly where we belong. He has placed us on a high place. He loves us just the same -- a valued gift in His eyes.

I started keeping a journal. So what, you might say? You see I've always wanted to do that. I have read about people faithfully journalizing and I thought, "How wonderful. Putting your thoughts on paper to look over." Then I read about someone leaving this as a legacy for their children and grandchildren. Wow!! Wouldn't that be great? I could picture the family gathering to read these marvelous words of wisdom , after my death of course. But, I couldn't seem to keep writing. I started many times. I bought beautiful journals, hoping to inspire me of course. I ended up using them for scrap paper. So what happened? Why can I now keep a journal? It has been over a month now. This is great!

"Now may the God of hope fill you with all JOY and peace in BELIEVING,
so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."
Romans 15:13 (NASB) Capitalization mine.

My journal starts with this Scripture. God of hope. Isn't that beautiful? He is the source of all hope. Without hope I have nothing. But hope in what, in whom? Hope in Jesus. Hope and trust in all that He is and all that He promises. I had to ask myself do I really believe in all that He says in His Word. If I do, then why do I get anxious. After all, He says He will never leave me and never forsake me. He says my life is worth more than birds whom He feeds and takes care of. Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.

All joy and peace in believing. Oh, I see. I receive this joy and peace in believing in Him. He is awesome. What goes wrong throughout the day? I start my day with Him, oh but wait. Sometimes I find myself trusting in my devotions. Really. Have you ever felt good after morning prayer and reading? Like you were really prepared for anything? But then, well you know, something unexpected happens, the children, the dog, the bills, the migraine (do you get these , too?). I find myself depressed. My trust, I discovered, was not in Jesus, but in my devotions. How did I miss that? Blind I guess. But, Jesus. Awe, but, Jesus. He gently reminds me that He is there. My faith in Him, there's the believing part, is what sustains me. Yes, I trusted Him to forgive my sins, but do I trust Him for His unending supply of Grace? Satan comes and snatches the Word from my heart. Oh, help me to trust you more, Jesus.

When I start my day now, I don't stop until I find this joy and peace in believing. You see, He must be my Joy. I must find Him more satisfying than anything on earth. I have a long way to go. You, too? But He is faithful, and has the power to present me faultless and blameless before His throne. What hope that gives me. What joy! Even when I blow it, I know that He still loves me. He fills me with hope that I can get through each day, that I will spend eternity with Him.

Perhaps I can keep a journal now because He has given me something to write. It is His timing. So write as He leads, and live as He plans.

This is a tribute to cousin Rosetta, who passed away from this world on May 3, 2003, but she lives on in my memories of Italy. She lives on in the memories of our family both in Italy and America. She was a maker of feasts and now awaits us at the great feast with another maker of feasts.

It was the chance of a lifetime! It was a dream come true to visit my great grandparents' hometown of Ascoli Piceno, Italy and meet my relatives there. We spent four days and ate multiple meals with these people who are kin. Their facial features and personality traits reminded me of relatives in New Jersey. The only differences were our citizenship and language.

Rosetta Meloni, my grandpop's first cousin, prepared for a month for our visit. Homemade pasta, gnocchi, and lasagna all lovingly cooked up in her tiny kitchen. There are no elevators in her apartment building; she carried the food down from her third floor apartment to an extra freezer in the basement. Most likely, she counted the days till our arrival. Eight family members traveled from New Jersey to Italy to see her, meet her family and see the land that is still apart of our genetic memory.

Rosetta was a matriarch. She was the oldest of 4 children, left to raise her three siblings when her mother and then, her stepmother died. She married and had 3 beautiful girls. While the girls were still young Rosetta's husband was killed in an accident. Once again she was left to raise children on her own. Despite the hardships, she was robust, full of life, full of laughter and history.

My cousin Rosetta, use to look out from her apartment balcony and see on the hill the old farmhouses where my great grandparents (her aunt and uncle) grew up and fell in love. I would have loved to hear more stories about them. But those stories about my great grandparent's early days were locked in her mind. I couldn't speak her language. I only got a skimping of stories and history through the labored translating of my great aunt, who miraculously remembered the language she hadn't spoken in nearly 25 years.

Thinking of Rosetta makes me laugh. I remember her coming out of her tiny kitchen bringing out more delicious treats: bowls of fresh figs, fried olives or homemade ravioli. She presented them to us at the table with a beaming smile and "Wol-La." I could tell she got such a thrill out of our "oooooohs" and "ahhhhhhs." We marveled over the variety of foods Rosetta brought out of that teeny kitchen.

Once upon a time, there was group of people that marveled over a tiny amount of food that multiplied to feed thousands. There wasn't a month to prepare a feast for the thousands of people that would attend a spur of the moment crusade on a mountainside. "We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish," they answered. "Bring them here to me," he said. And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children. Matthew 14:17-21(NIV)

Jesus provided a feast for the five thousand, which satisfied a temporary physical need but also revealed his power. Rosetta followed in his footsteps providing for those who gathered in her home. She filled our stomachs but also filled us with memories and expressions of love. Jesus did the same thing. Oh the stories that could have been passed down. Perhaps some said to their children, "We didn't know what we were going eat, all we knew was we had to listen to the Rabbi Jesus. We couldn't help ourselves. Then, he told us to separate in small groups and his followers carried around baskets of bread and they just never went empty. It was truly amazing. I knew then Jesus was no ordinary man."

Jesus came to feed the hungry. Not just to end the tummy rumblings but he came to satisfy the soul's starvation for intimacy with God. Jesus could create bread out of thin air, but He is the bread that will never leave us hungry. As long as we feast on him in our spirit, we will never starve. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty." John 6:33,35

I met Rosetta several years ago. It wasn't until after hearing about her death, (May 3, 2003) that I realized our visit was a joy and honor for her. For months I have been asking myself, "Who is this Jesus?" Remembering Rosetta and her bowl of figs helped me to see who Jesus is. Another facet of this God I call my Savior. Rosetta was both thrilled and eager to bless us. She prepared feasts for us because she already loved us. Her triumphant look as she crossed over the kitchen threshold conveyed, "Now look what I have for you! I was proud to cook this for your, I hope you are pleased, my honored guests." Looking back I am certain Jesus was in the kitchen with Rosetta

That same look of pleasure, excitement and honor is on Jesus' face as well. We are Jesus' honored guests in this world. In my heart, I feel his face beaming with love, "Now look what I have for you!" He daily brings forth a plate and presents it to us with a look of "I made this for you. This will give you strength; this will nourish your body and soul. This is my best! Prepared in love to make you proud and to bless you. I hope you are pleased. I did this because I love you. This is just a taste, a sample of what is to come. There is a greater feast coming that you can only catch a glimpse of here on earth."

One night we dined alfresco on the roof a 900-year-old "row home." That night the feast was more than just food. The people gathered were touching souls, crossing over language barriers and generational gaps and I had a glimpse of the great feast awaiting us. We were all astir; excited to be there, excited to meet people we only ever heard of, excited to meet people that reminded us of someone back home. There was closeness; there was intimacy the likes of which I never really felt. I soaked it all in the best I could. I tried to be an active participant and spectator of this glorious historic event. I was sitting at a table, a community, with un-translated communication, yet there was understanding- we are family.

   There will come a day when Rosetta, my great grandparents, my brother, my Savior and all those that have chosen to believe in Jesus will gather together. On that day there will be no language barriers, no generational gaps and we will know -really know- the people that came before us and after us. We will sit at the feast and enjoy the company. Perhaps we will hear the stories from the books the world was too small to hold. (John 21:25) Maybe, I will finally get to hear the stories that death and language barriers kept from me.

As one of the family, I knew I was welcome to sit at Rosetta's table. As a believer in Jesus I know I will be apart of the heavenly celebration that awaits those that love him. He is preparing a feast for his people to celebrate "On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine- the best of meats and the finest of wines." Isaiah 25:6

So I ask you what are we hungry for? Jesus is both the feast maker and the feast. He has created within himself such delights the senses can only sample in our finite bodies. With creative genius He provides for our daily needs. Such beautiful and wonderful expressions of love He presents to us that make the mouth fall open in amazement. If you listen carefully you just might hear "Wol-La!"…