Doc and I were in the Biloxi and New Orleans area last year. There, we found some of the most spectacular images with our cameras. So we spend several hours on a bridge, dodging traffic and took pictures of a marsh area.
As Hurricane Isaac continues to grind at the edge of land, eating away the dunes and flattening the marshes I am praying for the people as well as the wild life in that area.
The Lord gave Adam the responsibility of caring for this world He had created for us. When Adam and Eve left the garden, their labor increase, but God never took away the responsibility for caring for the earth and the life within it.
Won’t you join me today in prayer for this area?
Here are some images from our trip
The Sky is clear blue, and the only clouds are the vapors of a passing plane. No one would ever think that a storm is brewing and headed this way.
It would be easy to ignore the warnings and continue with life as usual, because it just doesn’t look like anything is wrong.
Folding up lawn chairs, cutting tree limbs and securing objects that could fly away to Oz, as Hurricane Isaac crosses our path. Doc cleans gutters and cranks the generator testing it, preparing for the worst, hoping for the best.
Hurricanes are just a part of living near the coast. You know they will come, and you prepare.
Sometimes it is easier to expect and prepare for hurricanes or tornados than for the storms of life.
Blue skies with sunshine, and I think we have life made. I don’t’ see the encroaching storm on the horizon.
“A prudent person foresees the danger ahead and takes precautions. The simpleton goes blindly on and suffers the consequences.” Proverbs 27:12
But God sees. We cannot see all that is ahead of us, but If we stay in His Word He prepares us for all that we cannot see.
When the earthquake hit Hattie, a woman was trapped in a grocery store with a few other people for five days.
At first many voices were crying out for help, but as the days went on fewer and fewer voices were heard.
Their Storm of Life had hit.
This one woman began talking to a man she could not see, but could hear, and they began encouraging each other by calling out all of the Bible verses they could remember.
Buried alive under debris for five days they spoke the Word into their storm.
After five days they were rescued and taken to a hospital in Miami where she told her story to the news.
When a storm of life hits it is not the time to prepare. You simply cannot get Prayed-up in a storm. Prepare means to do it ahead of time!
Latin praeparare, from prae ‘before’ + parare ‘make ready.’ (Mac dictionary)
Memorizing scripture is one way I prepare for the storms of life that come my way. But I must admit that I’m not as diligent as I should be – because the sky is still blue.
But if we will prepare by knowing His Word, then in the middle of the storm we are to settle down and abide in Him through it.
What are your favorite Bible verses that you cling to in the storms?
Linking today with Graceful, The Wellspring, Multitudes on Monday, In, On and Around Monday, On Your Heart Tuesday.
Answering the phone I join in on the conversations, trying to choose my words carefully, and failing.
Why do I join in on such talk? How can the joining of bitter water and sweet water stay pure and sweet?
Entering into redemption, through repentance, He bends and listens to my confessions.
And the joining is Grace.
And the joining is Mercy.
We bow our heads, and I think of joining Him.
The one who intercedes for us night and day.
The one who joins us by His spirit.
I am joined to His suffering, and His righteousness and His heir.
I am join by His spirit in Matrimony to my husband a reflection of the marriage to come.
And the joining is Holy.
Linking today with Lisa-Jo and Graceful for a Friday get together and we join our hearts together in our love of writing, love of community, love of friendship and love of the Lord.
The day I went back began one afternoon several years ago. I picked up my children from school, we grabbed a treat from a drive-through and went for an after school drive, as I listened to them tell me about their day.
“Amber likes Robert…Robert likes baseball…Karen fell on the playground and I don’t know what to do for a science project.” Megan always had the ability to allow her words to tumble out – one subject led right into the next.
Jacob, the oldest, endures his sister’s conversation by staring out of the car window thinking of his own day.
Finally, having heard enough, Jacob changes the subject. “ Mom, where did you live when you were a little girl?”
“I’ll show you”, I replied gleefully. Excited to drive through a neighborhood that I had not seen in years.
Up what use to be a hill (but is really just a rise in the road), and across the railroad tracks to the old neighborhood.
The yard that went on forever is a lot smaller than I remembered. There was the old Magnolia tree that my daddy planted during my first week out of the womb. It had grown so very much and is now towering over the small two bedroom home.
I’m not sure how I feel about being almost as old as a tree that looks like the ancient-of-days of trees.
Our Red brick house with white trim has now been painted Pepto-Bismol pink along with the trim and iron columns in the front.
“My” plum tree where I would sit and eat green plums until I had a stomach-ache, is now gone. Probably cut down years ago.
I drive past the house slowly, trying to remember my sister and me running through the yard, climbing trees, daddy cooking out in the back yard, and mom opening the crank windows in the early mornings letting in the cool of the day. No air conditioning back then for us. Only an attic fan whose hum lulled me to sleep each night. It was our only relief from a south Alabama summer; and so many of my cousins, aunt and uncles who lived around the corner.
Blue flashing lights and a siren pulling me over jolt me back to the present. The policeman walks up to my car and wants to know why I’m in this area.
I tell him about the pink house that use to be red brick with white trim that I lived in when I was little.
“Mam”, He begins, “This is not a safe area. Turn your car around and leave immediately.”
More than a little surprised, I make a u-turn and watch in my rear view mirror and the officer follows me to the entrance of the neighborhood before turning in a different direction.
I had heard that the area had gone to drug dealers and gangs, but it never occurred to me that I would be in such danger. It was after all, my old home where there was plenty of love and laughter.
I have thought about that day from time to time, wondering what happens to children whose lives know little more than violence in a neighborhood that is call “Unsafe”. Saddened at the thought that a place that held so many sweet memories of childhood for me could be a place of wounded memories for another.
Looking back opens your eyes.
Nothing is as big as it seemed, and the little things are the biggest treasures.
Closing our eyes can take us back,
and closing our eyes hides the here and now.
And God is whispering to my heart to be the hands and feet, to be the light on the stand.
This week in a different neighborhood, that is not too terribly different at all, not far from my childhood home, I begin working with their children. Teaching them to embroidery, talking about life skills, being leaders in kindness and godly wisdom, learning to use these skills to make money for their families, and teaching them to teach the ones coming behind them.
Won’t you pray for these and all children to know the hope of their calling in Christ?
“Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying “whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?’” Then I said, “Here I am. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8
The Back of the Hand
“The Lord said, ‘Behold, there is a place by Me, and you shall stand there on the rock/ and it will come about, while My glory is passing by that I will put you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with the palm of my hand until I have passed by. Then I will take my hand away and you shall see My back’” Exodus 33:21-23
Months ago the doctors finally gave the order, “We need to test her for Neurofibromatosis ( NH1) and probably several other things while we are testing.”
The two year old runs around the room terrorizing the furniture, while the young mother wraps her arms around the one year old holding her tightly as if to protect her from the doctor’s words.
This one year old, Gia, who the Lord God spoke to my heart while she was still in her mother’s safe womb, she would be a woman of prayer. Now this disease with no cure threatens to keep her from having the life we have dreamed for her.
I’m angry at sin, at Satan. I want it to hit and beat something for harming my Grandbaby, for hurting anyone’s baby!
I remember the nights of hugging the toilet after reading on the internet the worst case scenario of the disease. Doc fusses at me for reading such things, saying that all diseases have levels of expression. Just because she may have it doesn’t mean it will consume her. His words give me some comfort.
But she may have it – family history and signs are present…
Over and over I cry out to God, I call and email all the prayer warriors I know and activate a prayer chain.
While I am at a She Speaks Conference Gia’s mother and father hold her in their arms as the doctors at Children’s Hospital remove vials of blood from a screaming baby girl.
I get a text from my daughter who is overcome with emotion that the blood will not flow and it’s a fight.
I leave my class and hurry down the hall to the prayer room. In the hall I find Karen, and LeAnn, grabbing them without regard to who may hear our prayer. We begin interceding for the blood to flow easily and for healing.
An hour later I receive a text that the second try was successful and the wait for test had begun.
In the middle of the night I woke up with a Bible verse rolling through my mind over and over:
“The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me. I will bless the Lord who has counseled me; indeed, my mind instructs me in the night.” Psalms 16:6-7
This disease can cause a disfiguring of the body, blindness, deafness, brittle bones and a learning disability; all because the lines of DNA do not fall in pleasant places.
I began praising God for His Word. I got in touch with all of the prayer warriors who were generous with their time, to pray for us and Gia, and gave them this Bible verse to add to their prayers for her.
Four weeks passed and the waiting was like dragging a blacksmith’s anvil through mud.
Yesterday my daughter received the call from her doctor’s nurse. She began with a reminder that the test was only 80% accurate.
Then she gave the awaited result.
My daughter repeated the answer wanting to insure she had heard correctly, “Negative, she is negative, she doesn’t have NH1?”
“Yes, her test did not show NH1”
Like rain on a tin roof, tears of joy are a comforting sound as mother and grandmother shout out praise and thankfulness to the God whose hand is not influenced or hindered by medical indicators.
You know, that is the funny thing about the hand of God. You usually only see the back of His hand after he has already passed. It is difficult to see the palm holding the name written on it in blood, of the one He cherishes more than life.
The palm that crushes fear, the enemy, and disease, yet is so tender to touch the face of his child that we rarely notice until he has passed showing only the back of his hand.
This is the reason I blog – To take notice of the Hand of God, and of our Christ in everyday life.
Please tell me, where do you see Him in your everyday life? I want to hear your stories. Please leave a comment, or you can email me your story at Diane@dianewbailey.com, I love hearing
Linking Today with: