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A Hand of Protection

  • by Sharon

Our one and a half year old grandson, Jack, was playing at our house last night with his big sister Josie. We adults were sitting at the dinner table chatting and getting a kick out of the antics of the kids. I saw Jack bend down to pick up a toy he dropped. He was about to whack his head on the bottom of the table if he stood up. I couldn’t reach him in time. Without missing a beat in his conversation, Jack’s daddy reached over and placed his hand between Jack’s head and the table. He had been very aware of what Jack was doing and saw the danger. Jack didn’t realize his dad was there protecting him. He stepped back and cheerfully walked away. Crisis averted.

Watching Nate look after Jack gave me a word picture to a phrase my mom often prayed growing up, when she would ask God to literally put a “hedge of protection” around someone she was praying for (sometimes that was me). How many times are we protected without even knowing how God is working on our behalf?

Psalm 33:18 says that, “… the Lord’s eyes are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love.” Take time to thank God today for his help in ways you may not see. He is our loving Father and is always working for our good and his glory. He sees you, friend.

Take time to thank God today for his loving care, and pray for people he places on your heart and mind.

But let all who take refuge in you be glad;
    let them ever sing for joy.
Spread your protection over them,
    that those who love your name may rejoice in you.

Psalm 5:11, NIV

Whiteboard Wisdom

  • by Sharon

The church were I work recently upgraded the children’s ministry area. When the carpet installation was finished, all of us on staff helped move shelves, supplies, Bibles, tables, desks, and chairs back into the well-used space. A whiteboard in one corner caught my eye. The words OMNIPOTENT, OMNISCIENT, and OMNIPRESENT were neatly written out. Attributes of God.

OMNIPOTENT: Having unlimited or universal power, authority, or force; all-powerful.

OMNISCIENT: Having total knowledge; knowing everything.

OMNIPRESENT: Present everywhere simultaneously.

I first saw those words on a whiteboard in my high school youth group. Imagine that – teaching theology to teens (thank you, youth pastors and pastors and Sunday School teachers). Or, as I witnessed this past week, how wonderful that these truths are being taught to younger kids in grade school.

I am so grateful to have been taught about the God who is present everywhere, all-powerful, and knows everything (even knows me).

www.gotquestions.org says this about the omniscience of God:

“Finally, there is nothing too hard for an omniscient God, and it is on the basis of our faith in such a God that we can rest secure in Him, knowing that He promises never to fail us as long as we continue in Him. He has known us from eternity, even before creation. God knew you and me, where we would appear in the course of time, and whom we would interact with. He even foresaw our sin in all its ugliness and depravity, yet, in love, He set his seal upon us and drew us to that love in Jesus Christ (Ephesians 1:3-6). We shall see Him face to face, but our knowledge of Him will never be complete. Our wonder, love and praise of Him shall go on for all millennia as we bask in the rays of His heavenly love, learning and appreciating more and more of our omniscient God.”

I will never tire of the happiness and security that comes from learning about God. Do you know him? If you do not, please comment or message the page. One of us would be delighted to share how he has powerfully, lovingly, and unquestionably changed our lives for eternity.

Are you a Christ follower? What is one of your favorite resources to study about God? Comment below!

Day by Day

  • by Sharon

The holidays are upon us. The “Holy Days”. The days that we want to be filled with joy and hot cocoa and time with loved ones. Sometimes, instead, this time of year can be filled with hard days.

Recently a friend of ours received very discouraging news. Knowing that he and his wife are trusting the Lord, I asked, “What’s your favorite hymn?” I listed off a few old hymns like Be Still My Soul, Day by Day, and It Is Well.

“Day by Day!”, was the response.

Day by day and with each passing moment, Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment, I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure Gives unto each day what he deems best–
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure, Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Ev’ry day the Lord himself is near me, With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares he gladly bears and cheers me, He whose name is Counselor and Pow’r.
The protection of his child and treasure Is a charge that on himself he laid:
“As your days, your strength shall be in measure”– This the pledge to me he made.

Help me then in ev’ry tribulation So to trust your promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation Offered me within your holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when, toil and trouble meeting, E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting, Till I reach the promised land.

If toil and trouble are meeting you more quickly right now than the joy of the Thanksgiving and Christmas season, I’ll share a secret with you that I appreciate much more today than I did years ago, when my mom would say this:

God gives us the grace and strength we need, one day at a time.

Lord Jesus, when the very real toils and troubles shadow the good gifts from you in my life, help me to trust the promises in your Word, and to rest in your presence, day by day.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

Called to Hope

  • by Sharon

*Saturday morning mindset while relaxing and drinking coffee or tea*:

“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

*Monday morning mindset looking at the list of to-do’s for the week*:

“My sorrow, when she’s here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.” – Robert Frost

Which quote can you relate to above?

Are you invigorated this year with the change to a crisp fall, sunshine filtering through falling leaves, and the cozy happiness of all things autumn (pumpkin spice coffee lovers, rejoice)? Or do you struggle with those subtle change-of-season-blues that are real for many people? If you know, you know.

Maybe you’re like me and can relate, some seasons, to both. Last year I walked in our familiar misty woods on paths covered in foliage. This year we moved. A big change. A lovely provision from God. The new scenery is just as beautiful in its own way. I walk my dachshund pup on a country road surrounded by pastures, curious cows, and a stoic blue heron that swoops away up the creek nearby.

I think about seasons and situations and how God works through them all.

Illness.

A big life change – a precious new baby, new marriage, adjusting to an empty nest, or a new job.

The loss of a loved one.

Global upheaval.

An unknown future.

The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “There is nothing permanent except change.”

I think Heraclitus is not wrong in terms of this world . . . but hold onto your pumpkin spice coffee just a minute and stick with me.

Hebrews 13:8 assures us that, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday today and forever.”

If we have a relationship with Christ Jesus, even in a rapidly changing world, we know our future. We are secure in him and our future is good. Our unknowns, our sorrows, our dreams and joys are filtered through powerful, personal, hope. Whether we’re in a sunny happy pasture-place in life, or feel like we’re walking down a misty hidden lane, as believers, our spiritual footing is secure.

God offers hope freely, day to day, month to month, season to season. There is enough for you, too.

Here is a passage from Ephesians 1:15-23 that I journaled recently. I’m holding onto these truths hiking into the end of October:

15 For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, 16 I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. 17 I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. 18 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, 21 far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. 22 And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, 23 which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

If autumn quotes aren’t quite resonating with you this year (or even if they are – some of them are a lot of fun!), the promises of God’s Word, friend, are always true. Let’s get to know God and his promises better. We’ve been called to hope (read that as a noun) every day of the week!

Would you like to know more about true Hope? Comment or message me. I would be honored to share the hope available in every season, in every “pasture or path” of life, that only comes from believing in God’s son, Jesus Christ.


Are you worried about the future? Struggling with a personal or spiritual issue that’s causing anxiety, uncertainty or fear about tomorrow? You can browse through dozens of topics and questions and begin your journey to a more peaceful life right now at Peace with God (https://peacewithgod.net/)

Like a Lily

  • by Sharon

I couldn’t tell you a day lily from goldenrod the first spring we lived at our previous home surrounded by fields and woods. A day lily would bloom and would be welcomed like an old friend by my neighbor. The goldenrod was relentlessly hunted and picked and discarded preferably before it could bloom and cause allergy issues.

After a decade of living on that property, I learned to coherently identify many of the plants in the woods. Some I dehydrated for teas and tinctures. My favorite forest path led me by a patch of day lilies. The plants were tucked in a small clearing at the bottom of a shady hill. On warm summer nights deer would lay in the high grass bordering the lilies. I learned to watch for their splash of vibrant color as summer wound along.

Our very first year at that home, we never saw the day lily patch in bloom.

“There are beautiful flowers in the woods where you walk,” said my elderly neighbor one afternoon. “Maybe next year you’ll see them.”

“Oh.” I didn’t understand. This was always the trend when plant-talk happened around me. I wondered silently, should I know about why we wouldn’t see the blooms?

The woods belonged to her and her husband. They had thoughtfully curated those woods like a park for fifty plus years. They knew where the day lilies should bloom.

“So, we won’t see them this year?” I asked casually.

Should I have verbally emphasized “won’t”, or “see”? Which option would have sounded like I knew anything about anything about beautiful hidden flowers in the woods, and, why hadn’t I seen them?

“No.” She paused while browsing a European travel magazine. “Someone mowed over them.”

Ah. That was her polite way of pointing out that my husband, faithfully mowing walking trails up over the hill, had accidentally taken out that year’s perennial growth with the mower. There would be no day lily blossoms in the sheltered clearing. Maybe I would keep this knowledge to myself for a month or two. He had spent hours mowing paths over the hill for me to wander at my leisure. It was my healing place.

Happily, the flowers have bloomed in force every year since. Sometimes they posed for me to take pictures as a way of saying “thanks” for not being taken out by my favorite groundskeeper.

Maybe we’re all a little like the hardy hidden day lilies. Some seasons we are unexpectedly on pause. Circumstances are beyond our control. That doesn’t mean our God-given gifts have been permanently muted. We need to regroup, rest, and trust the Creator’s master plan.

Photo credit: www.sharonoconnor.net

So extraordinary is Nature with her choicest treasures, spending plant beauty as she spends sunshine, pouring it forth into land and sea, garden and desert. And so the beauty of lilies falls on angels and men, bears and squirrels, wolves and sheep, birds and bees.

John Muir

Have you ever been on pause? What did God teach you? Provide for you? Prepare you for? What would you tell someone facing their own season of “pause”?

“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31 But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

Luke 12:27-31 NIV

beautiful country scene with creek and sunset

Humble Pie

  • by Sharon

Blogging seems so inviting, so personal, so “possible”. And then you end up writing puppy stories because someone else needs to know they are not alone in being completely humiliated.

Powerful rain storms came through last night. Not just once or twice, but at least three times. Water poured from thundering skies, then clouds almost let the sun fight through. Between storm inning one and two, the dog needed to go potty. There are two leashes I hook together to give him more room. I hooked both leashes and Scotty trotted down the steps ten feet away. One leash was attached to him, and the other was in my hand, still at the top of the steps. I froze. He froze.

Would he realize he was free?

Is water wet?

He looked at me and got a gleam in his little brown eye. He turned and dashed away towards the busy road in front of our home.

“Scotty! Come!”

No way, lady. That training tip has sailed.

The neighbors, if they were looking at the Scotty and Sharon circus, saw a little brown dachshund gleefully running up the rushing flow of water on the far side of the road. I’ve never been a graceful runner and this occasion was no exception. I had on flip flops so I sort of skip trotted awkwardly and furiously trying to follow Scotty dashing over the road and back again.

“Oh God, please, no semi trucks right now.”

A semi truck was coming around the bend.

By now Tom was also watching the show. He grabbed his car keys ready to take off if he needed to follow the puppy. I was thinking about shock collars.

The truck driver kindly slowed down and stopped. Tom was talking to him. Scotty ran towards him, and back, and in circles. What to do, Sharon, what to do…

Have you heard that dogs will sometimes come to their owners if they lay down like they’re hurt? Anyone? Well I read it somewhere. Probably on some blog post. That’s my story and I am seriously sticking to it. Once, another dog we had came running back to me when I laid down and acted hurt. What did I have to lose besides my dignity? I quickly laid down on my back in the wet yard. Scotty pranced four feet out of my reach. Tom and the truck driver stared. Probably the entire valley and the people in houses on the surrounding hills stared. After about five seconds of looking from me to the semi truck, Scotty grinned at me and ran away again. I jumped up like the athlete that I was thirty years ago. In my mind anyways. Tom later told me he was horrified. All I could muster was, “Well if it worked, and I had caught Scotty by laying down and acting hurt, I would have looked like a genius.” Perhaps some other day in some other valley.

The truck driver, who happened to know Tom and possibly, in my mind’s eye now, about a million people we know, slowly moved his rig past me and the still-dodging dachshund. I avoided making eye contact and waived a meek thank you. The driver was busy programming his GPS to take him anywhere but on this road ever again.

Scotty ran circles close enough for me to finally step on his leash. The circus stopped, we went inside, and I served myself a big fat piece of delicious humble pie.

There is no moral to this story, no verse, no life application, just a silly dachshund puppy story. And I hope it made you smile in relief that it was not YOUR story!

Just Like That

  • by Sharon

“That’s how quick it can happen,” said my husband. He had observed my near catastrophe from the open kitchen window.

I was doubled over laughing. Embarrassed. Relieved. And sore.

Our dachshund Scotty has a mind of his own. On Independence Day morning I took him outside. He did his business. And then sat. And sat. And sniffed the beautiful warm air. And he sat some more, long haired silky ears gently flapping in the wind. Ignoring me. He’s cute. I was in a hurry. Finally I picked Scotty up to get moving. I took the final step from the slanted dirt path up onto the concrete driveway.

And just like that.

stumbling

One Puma flip flop caught the cement edge. Flailing forward, Scotty launched out of my arms and scrambled safely away. Four huge desperate comical stumbling steps later, fighting to stay upright, arms outstretched, I triumphed and landed face first on the hood of the car.

How quickly we can stumble.

Proverbs 4:11-13 talks about stumbling. While the world is tumbling spiritually into deep darkness, God offers powerful strength to keep us upright and steady. Are you relying on his instructions and wisdom today?

“I instruct you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straight paths. When you walk, your steps will not be hampered; when you run, you will not stumble. Hold on to instruction, do not let it go; guard it well, for it is your life.” Proverbs 4:11-13

A thought for today:

Lord, help me to

listen to what you say

accept what you say

pay attention to what you say

(And if I stumble, please launch me to safety!)

Defining the Music

  • by Sharon

Is music a gift? A goal? A trust?

Leo C. Cox is written on a faded tag inside my fiddle. He was the man who owned the instrument, who took it apart, fixed it, and put the ivory screw pegs on the scroll for easier tuning. He played the fiddle in barn dances with my grandmother and other family in the Southern Tier of New York during the Great Depression. He was my grandfather. I never knew him. I always heard about the music.

Grandpa’s fiddle rested in an old antique wooden case in our attic on Spencer Avenue. The instrument held court surrounded by other violins, mandolins, banjos, and an old silver saxophone. One fiddle lay in two pieces with a tiger striped back. Another was a copy of a Stradivarius violin my father had played in elementary school. Dad’s music teacher tried to get my grandfather to part with that violin. Grandpa declined.

Grandpa’s fiddle was the piece in the attic that always captured my imagination. Mother-of-pearl inlay gleamed in the shadows. The fingerboard had grooves worn in it from my grandfather’s fingers flying along the surface. No strings. No bridge. Beautiful. Silent.

The summer of 1983 I came home from Camp Susque and my parents gave me an early thirteenth birthday present. Dad had spent the week fixing up Grandpa’s fiddle. I communicated most fluently with my father in the cadenced language of music. He had entrusted to me a volume of unspoken love. An exchange of family treasure.

Mom had lovingly replaced faded material inside the wooden case with soft red felt. Encouraging music in our home was a team effort.

“My dad claimed he could throw that case across across the dance floor and the fiddle would be perfectly safe,” said my father, squinting at the antique wooden case. Smoke swirled from the cigarette hanging casually out of his mouth. I pictured the grandfather I had only observed in black and white photos tossing the wooden case across a dance floor. If my dad said so, it must be true. I wondered how this theory had been tested. I did not ask.

Dad played bass and guitar in local bands. He tuned pianos, gave lessons, and fixed what was broken with most instruments entrusted to his care. At home he loved playing hymns and the old songs of his family. Dad played the music, not just the instrument. He would smile when I picked up the fiddle and laugh when I missed the chorus into Red River Valley. I confused it every time with some other similar melody. I still do.

My favorite place to play fiddle is in church. I don’t pull out the fiddle as much as I should, but did play for a hymn sing. I tuned the strings and thought about the hands that had worked on Grandpa’s fiddle in years past. The sound guy attached a mic and noticed that the bridge was slightly bent.

“Your fiddle has a nice tone to it. But you’ll want to fix that bridge sometime soon,” he said.

“I’ll have to figure out how to do that,” I mused. “My dad always fixed what was broken.”

Dad has been gone home to heaven over ten years. Music bridged some wide emotional chasms in his life. We gained access to who he was down deep when music flowed solid over gaps between us. Now Dad is with the One who created him, the giver of all good things, the healer of all that is broken. This is the same God who removed the chasm of sin separating us all from a relationship with him. He sent his son, Jesus, to live with us and make a way for us. He died to pay the penalty of my sin, and yours. Our heavenly father gave us a way to gain access to know who he really is, through a relationship with Jesus, his son.

To learn more about the good gift of salvation, please visit the link at the the bottom of this page.

I won’t pretend to understand the mystery and joy that is God-honoring music. I do hope the song of my life is pleasing to the Creator. A gift back to the Giver of all good things. A goal to ponder, a trust to keep, and eventually, a legacy passed to another.

I guess that’s how I would define the music.

What (or who) defines the music of your life?


Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song.

Psalm 95:1-2


Are you seeking peace with God? Here is a website that may be of help to you: www.peacewithGod.net

Looking for Color

  • by Sharon

I couldn’t wait to get into the woods this past weekend. Saturday morning’s agenda started with sipping coffee next to Tom and watching the back yard show. The green path into the woods has slowly been transformed to a carpet of gold and tan leaves. The day before, we spied moving shadows of brown and white as deer made their way through the trees. Two doe ventured down into our yard, taking their time to nibble at the rhododendrons, before sashaying back into their woods. One paused long enough for a photo.

Every year at this time I have a system of mental notches related to which month and which cancer diagnosis, treatment, surgery, or test result from 2010-2013. Autumns have been seasons with difficult hues and unwelcome changes. October 1, 2012 found us sitting in the oncologist’s office listening to the words, “Your cancer has returned.”

Hunting season. Healing season. The two are intertwined in my head.

On this morning ten years to the day later, I grabbed my usual hunting weapon of choice, a camera. Tom reminded me to put on an orange vest because it was the first day of bow season. I pulled the material over my sweatshirt, grabbed my sturdy stick, and started walking. The trusty wooden staff kept steady rhythm while I cleared my head. I was looking for color.

The previous weekend I visited my mom. We were talking about autumn and the outdoors. She said, “I do wonder what ever happened to your dad’s walking stick.”

The wooden staff had been gifted to my father years ago, chosen thoughtfully for him by one of my brothers and sister-in-law.

“I have dad’s walking stick,” I reminded mom. “You or he gave it to me when we moved into our home, I think, back in 2010.” The year of my first steps through cancer. “I use it every time I walk in the woods.”

Mom smiled. “Oooh that makes me so happy to know one of you kids has the walking stick, and that you use it. I’m so glad!”

Dad passed away in August 2012 shortly after his 80th birthday and just before my second cancer diagnosis in October 2012. I thought about him a lot after the conversation with mom. God entrusted dad with a musical gift that wound down through his family tree and branched deep into ours. Melody flowed freely from dad’s fingertips on a guitar. Maybe that was how he cleared his head and found the color.

On October 1, 2022, the forest was dressed richly in greens, greys, yellows, and orange. Black tree trunks. Brown branches. Clumps of red way up high where tree top foliage burned red with fiery brilliance on the way down to winter. Deer tracks in the dirt. Gratitude in my soul.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for your steady presence in my life, and for filling our world with your color.


My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.

Psalm 57:7

Anxious for Nothing

  • by Sharon

God told us “do not fear” or “fear not” 365 times in the Bible.

Do you think He knows us? Our bent towards harboring fear that settles in and paralyzes us from enjoying the abundant life He intends for us to live?

There is an old towering tree in a clearing where I walk. To get to the tree I can take a few different paths. Tonight I took the longer trail. Passed sheltering trees with glints of evening sun in the branches. Silence.

hawk feather

Picked up a stick that fell in last night’s storm. Tossed a rock pushed up from the ground. Stopped to catch my breath at the top of the long hill. Listened for signs of life. Watched a doe disappear into the woods to my right. Saw a feather left by the hawk screeching high overhead. Kept walking. Grateful for a body that works.

I’ve been watching for the wild grapes entwined in the branches of that old tree. High grass surrounds the base of the pine. Deer have been resting there. Tonight, finally, the grapes are ripening and plump. A simple feast waiting in the middle of a forest clearing. Abundant life draped over old branches securely in the middle of nowhere.

Why, my soul, are you downcast?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God,

for I will yet praise him,

my Savior and my God.

Psalm 42:11

God provides. Even in our fear and anxieties; in the silence of our walk; clutching burdens we struggle to know how to drop at His feet; imperfect vision contemplating the beauty wrapped around us in this fallen, breathtaking, decaying world.

God is so good to us.

Quiet forest walk? Unexpected feast or provision? How has God encouraged you today?


Sharon shares her healing journey from stage four colon cancer on the You Are Loved podcast with host Kim Kiekel.

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Are you seeking peace with God? Here is a website that may be of help to you: www.peacewithGod.net

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. 1 Peter 1:3

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