Author: bonniejeancarr

For most, this time of year commemorates God’s gift of the birth of a baby, whose presence was a lowly stable and, also, a jolly ol’ man, who lands high on rooftops while bearing a sack full of presents. Most certainly, I celebrate, first and foremost, the Christ Child’s birth. The lighthearted joy of Santa’s presents is not forgotten but does fall beneath the presence of Baby Jesus. However, for me this season carries a third triangle of commemoration — my anniversary, my Mother’s birth into heaven and my Hubby entering retirement cause his doctor skills are not needed in heaven.

Though my heart, every year. feels loss, my soul clings to this loving (and living) wisdom God shared with me. God did not send Baby Jesus to keep us on earth but to help us get to heaven. How about us? Is our purpose to keep our loved ones on earth, or is it to help them get to heaven?

Focus on not having been able to keep our loved ones on earth drowns us in loss and despair. Never losing sight that we succeeded in our purpose of helping get our loved ones to heaven fills our crying hearts and souls with eternal victory and hope.

For me, personally, God’s gift of this wisdom has made all the difference in my heart being able to hold my Mother and Hubby close, as my soul rejoices from afar that the faith, we shared on earth, helped them arrive in heaven. If you are mourning the loss of your loved ones, I pray you, also, find even a little bit of comfort and hope in this gift of God’s consoling wisdom.

As I thanked God this week for my less than perfect family, my heart ached and prayed for all those who lament their family not being perfect. In honesty, I’m so blessed that all my family are believers; but I deeply care for my friends who mourn that their family is not this blessed. Amidst asking God to bring all the wayward into His fold, He brought me to a realization I have totally overlooked. Within His enlightenment might just be the greatest perspective and comforting hope to which human families, with unbelieving members, could ever cling.

Have any of you ever pondered the earthly family God chose for Jesus? Till now, I haven’t. Matthew 13:55-56 states Christ had four brothers and unnamed sisters. Mark 3:21 describes Jesus’ family as originally feeling Christ was out of his mind. However, explicitly, Galatians 2:9 declares that in the end James, the brother of Jesus, is named as a pillar of the early church. As for the rest of Jesus’ siblings, Acts 1:14’s Scripture seems to imply Jesus’ siblings were in the Upper Room praying with Mary and the apostles after Jesus’ Ascension.

Bottom line is, therefore, the deduction that originally Jesus’ family neither valued Him nor believed in Him as sent by God. However, they transitioned into His followers. So why is this significant? I suggest that, very possibly, it is a great symbolic encouragement from God to all of us.

What better source of hope for present day wayward family member’s salvation than looking to God’s personally chosen earthly family for Jesus. God didn’t place Jesus into a family of believers. He could have; but He chose not to. Why? God never makes a mistake or, even, a random choice. Thus, there must be specific purpose in the family chosen for Jesus. Could God be revealing that earthly families are imperfect and, at times, even negative and critical regarding the existence and salvation offered through Jesus? However, conversion eventually is meant to occur. We are not to write off, stop praying or lose hope for non-believing family. Rather, we are called to steadfastly keep praying and entrusting God to open their eyes, change their minds and kindle their hearts in faith.

To all Christian families, struggling with one or many wayward members, remember, salvation is not always about where we, or loved ones, are at this moment but about where God, ultimately, can and will lead. With renewed confidence and anticipation, may we, all, pray for unbelievers, let go of lowly despair and take hold of “Upper Room” optimistic expectation. Let us “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” Romans 12:12 (ESV).

Volumes have been written on the best way to encourage and help loved ones as mountains are climbed, valleys are traversed, storms are navigated, and deserts are crossed. My thoughts are but a few.

First, foremost and always, our human insight and expertise are finite and often wrong. Thus, Scripture and prayer must guide us to the wisdom and love of our infinite God.

Our creed must hold stalwart and unyielding to “Let go and let God”. However, for me and my sometimes-overstepping personality, it, also, takes reiterating doses of my personally penned mantra: nose and knows out; knees and needs in; hear and here reaching out; heart and soul pulling in.

Now, having, in effect, put myself out of the driver’s seat, God, unhindered, can pilot my loved one’s combat mission. God, knowing my propensity to talk, reminds me that if I feel prone to open my mouth, the most helpful and reassuring words to come out of it are: “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you. He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”. Deuteronomy 31: 8 (ESV)

My prayer is for my children and grandchildren to have as blessed a life in their tomorrows as I have had in all my yesteryears. This is my constant intercession to God. I confidently know God hears my pleas, desires the same for my family and, come tomorrow, will deliver blessings like unto my yesterdays. I do, however, get caught up in one pitfall. Yesterday and tomorrow are not the stumbling block. Today is.

This hit home with me three days ago, on my first walk post hurricane Nicole. Reality was I found myself wading through the aftermath muck and mire of a fierce storm, lamenting the lost beauty of yesterday and hoping tomorrow would be restored to the blessing of past harmony and glorious surroundings. Now, doesn’t that parallel my prayer for my family?

Next thing I knew, I was in conversation with God explaining this was exactly what I meant in my prayer for my loved ones. It was a great simile for Him to understand what I was trying to express. Good grief, what was I thinking? I mean as if God needs anything drawn out so He can see the picture!!!

God always lets my stupidity become a teaching moment — obviously, for me not Him. My physical path, literally strewn with debris, made this a straightforward lesson. Easily and effectively, God maneuvered me through my bleak trek into understanding.

My first lesson was the “light bulb going on” moment of acceptance that much bigger, stronger hands than mine were needed today to rid the wreckage separating yesterday’s clear path from tomorrow’s prayed for restoration. My fingers could grip the rubble as hard as my human strength could muster, but nothing was I capable of lifting and clearing away.

Next, came my “I got it, Lord” proclamation. God’s hands, not mine, must be entrusted with the work needed to be done today. To restore the future how God’s past creation had designed it to be, God, and HE ALONE must AT HIS PACE engineer the transformation. At best, and only if He calls me to it, can I, in minuscule ways, help serve God’s plan. Take note; I said serve, not orchestrate nor execute.

So, why is my tendency to look at today and think mine is the power to control and change anything? Time and again, what part of “Let go and let God” do I overlook or, worse yet, ignore? Easily, I credit God with the past and assign the future to Him. However, I, wrongly, think I can influence, alter or, even, re-create today. What’s more, I want the end result of God’s blessed tomorrow to reign in today’s unblessed mess.

Of course, there’s also timing to discuss — mine versus God’s. Present day reality finds so much of life in total disarray. Solely wanting our world and its people immediately cured, I’m after stopwatch, split-second speed to the rescue. None the less, God discerns saving souls is slowly achieved through His loving watch, not the minutes on a clock. In honesty, I need to stop trying to move the finish line to the starting point. Better yet, I need to take my mitts off of God’s steering wheel.

Toward the end of my post hurricane jaunt, my shoes were soaked and filthy, but my footing was dried, cured and where God needed it to be. As a chuckle filled my voice, I looked skyward, where both the sun and SON were breaking through, and professed my newly garnered insight — God will take care of tomorrow, if I let Him handle today.

Ever wonder why Jesus was born when He was? Over and over again, I have. I mean, God doesn’t choose anything randomly. So, why did He determine the perfect timing to be as He did? Since my conversations with God are plentiful, lately, I decided to run this one by him. In honesty, since in recent weeks God has had to seriously redirect my thinking, I’m pretty sure He decided I needed a lighter moment of discourse and fed me whimsical food for thought over meat and potatoes fact. Anyway, this is the gist of how God answered me.

Simply stated, God’s feedback was that Christ was born when He was because, at that time, cameras were nonexistent. Are you chuckling as I was, upon being served this explanation? My knee jerk reaction was what in heaven’s name do cameras have to do with Baby Jesus being born on earth? Instantaneously, God’s response was for me to think about it. He added the two-word clue “mirrored image”. Bingo! I understood God’s answer, which at this point went from riddle to logical and wise thinking.

If we were in possession of a genuine picture of Jesus Christ, would we be focused on His looks and not His character? Would we desire to imitate his outward appearance over the reflection of His innermost deeds? Would a photoshopped illusion, instead of walking in Christ’s shadow, place us by His side?

Suddenly, my initial giggle became a sigh of understanding. Modern mankind places so much emphasis on who or what our outer appearance looks like, while we should be a snapshot of who or what our inner portrait resembles. Christ’s familiar features, necessary to possess to be recognized as belonging to His family, are not the shape of his nose, His eye hue, the color of His hair or the curve of His outward smile. Not a camera, but a way of living and believing, portrays Jesus.

What’s more, pivoting on outer appearance breeds the picture of insecurity, which certainly is not a trait of Christ. Those, classified by the world as beautiful, most often live in constant fear their glamour will wane, and with age it naturally does. Those labeled as ordinary in silhouette, frequently, feel externally inferior, overlooking what radiates true and lasting beauty — the emergence of a Christ centered heart and soul.

Considering all this, without question, I couldn’t help but get the picture God was not completely pulling my leg with His “before cameras could capture Christ’s face” answer. No doubt about it, much more wisdom than the absence of cameras determined God’s timing for Jesus to be born on earth. However, God’s wisdom, on predicting mankind’s vulnerabilities, probably did come into play in His deciding the perfect moment for Christ to come into human view must be camera free. My final thought to share is that in heaven there, also, probably won’t be cameras. They won’t be needed!

Last week, I shared how God absolutely needed to redirect me from sharing “my interpretation” of what He wanted to say to “the words He actually wanted spoken”. There is a part two of this happening. I share it now.

His name is Osvaldo. Last blog, I labeled him only as master craftsman. Today, I introduce him as a man of God, reaching out to his brothers and sisters in Christ.

Having absolutely no advance warning that my home was going to be torn apart, to say the least, I was not ready for the floor team’s arrival. Literally, they entered as I was exiting my garage with empty laundry baskets in which to safe keep the contents of my curio cabinets and other display pieces. Osvaldo’s inquiries, regarding my wishes for installation of my new flooring, were answered as he followed me from linen closet to linen closet in pursuit of every available towel to pad my treasures temporarily needing shelter in plastic containers. Besides technical questions, Osvaldo spoke nothing; but I sensed his thoughts were constructing not just my floors, but also, the core significance behind all I was taking apart.

At 5:10 that afternoon, and before Osvaldo and crew were ready to call it a workday, I needed to leave to take my grandbaby to his swim lesson. Interrupting Osvaldo’s work, I announced my departure; but, after observing all day his and his crew’s character, I totally trusted him to lock my doors whenever he chose to stop working. Told him, honestly, that I sensed he was a ground layer, just like Jesus. Never will I forget his words back to me. He replied that he had read my home, both what I had taken apart and all that was still in place. He added, he trusted me, too, and recognized me as a sister in Christ.

Wow!!! At that moment, God completely revealed Osvaldo, from the get-go, was a part of HIS plan. All the unexplained pieces, that miraculously resulted in my floors being done weeks earlier than scheduled, now fell under the classification of “GOD INCIDENCE” — even down to the fact that God’s own man was in charge of the physical job!!! God, as is HIS norm, hadn’t overlooked a single element in HIS plan.

Heading out to swim class and shaking my head in awe, I told God, “No way did I author this day. Your handwriting, from start to finish, is all over it. Amen and Alleluia!!!”.

Next morning, as Osvaldo and crew were arriving, I was collecting my notebook and Bible for Grammy prayer meeting at church. After telling Osvaldo where I was going and approximately when I’d be home, I walked out the door. Osvaldo followed close behind. Confidently and automatically, I assumed Osvaldo was following me to move his truck, so I could get my car out of the garage. (My thinking, once more, was way off target from the message God was delivering.) Turning around, I told Osvaldo he didn’t need to worry about his truck as I had backed my car onto the street before he arrived. I didn’t think Osvaldo understood me as he came in front of me and ducked into his truck. Let me assure you all, Osvaldo wasn’t the one who misunderstood. Nope, it was I, again banking on my words instead of tuning in to God’s message. Good golly, I was on a roll, and it was all downhill!!!

Popping out of his truck, Osvaldo’s was holding a beautiful treasure. Passing it to me, Osvaldo explained he made what his hands were physically presenting me; but God was giving it to me. Into my palms, Osvaldo placed the masterpiece my master craftsman had built for his Lord and Master. Using flooring components as the foundation, Osvaldo had chiseled “JESUS” — thus, making both a statement and a plaque. Upon the name of our Redeemer, he had overlayed the letters “LOVES U”.

Teary eyed, my hands were now grasping God’s sign, representing how deeply embedded He is in all the moments, circumstances and paths of my life. Even when I stray off God’s course, mistakenly thinking I am right on target for Him, He makes clear His will and way and guides me back through amazing “GOD INCIDENCES”.

Before Osvaldo left my home, he presented me duplicates of his work for God. He said he believed God wanted me to give one to the young girl I was mentoring as he began my floors and the other to someone I knew, who needed it and would know God was sending it to her. I have fulfilled Osvaldo’s, and God’s, wishes; but my soul truly believes, in essence, all need to be reminded that “JESUS LOVES U”. May this story, which I have just shared, touch your heart and soul and remind you that no matter how your journey through life is going, “JESUS LOVES U” and always will.

Never ceases to amaze me when a friend implies that I am on the same wavelength as our Heavenly Father. Truthfully, it is because God has to redirect me that necessitates so many of our conversations. Take, for instance, this past week.

There I was, totally convinced I knew God’s mission and message for me. I was so sure I was to share, with a young lady under the devil’s attack, that God’s peace, even in our storms, is our mainstay. In preparation for meeting with this beautiful woman of God, I sought the quiet time of a walk as dawn was breaking the day’s darkness. With my inspirational music leading me, I set out to calm my soul and seek God’s quietly leading my way. Well, let me assure you, it was not I who needed to get God’s attention. Much the opposite, God needed to get my attentiveness. To do so, He did not whisper. He full out shouted.

At the furthest point from my home, both my walk and my music were interrupted by my ringtone. Voice on the other end of my phone announced the unexpected (but definitely God Planned) had occurred. Miraculously, the custom pieces needed to remove my home’s ceramic tile and replace it with cushioned flooring had just arrived. Additionally, the master craftsman, whose skill was needed for the task, had broken his norm and worked the past weekend to finish a job, so he was available to start mine that morn, instead of the reserved date two weeks in the future. The crew would be on my doorstep within an hour.

Now, powerwalking home to beat their arrival, my clueless mind was unsettled as I tried to “think” through how I was going to still share God’s serenity when my home was about to be, literally, torn apart. My real problem was that I was searching for a worldly solution instead of “praying” for God to show my soul His will and way. Still not in contact with the wavelength of God’s desire, I deduced all was not lost. My little mentee and I would escape to my three-season room and there be immersed in nature and God’s powerful peace that infiltrates all storms.

Just as I plopped my bottom into the glider rocker in my three-season room and await my visitor’s arrival, a landscaper climbed his ladder directly across the narrow channel outside from me. With a shrill and powerful chain saw in his hand, he began trimming the palm trees. My reaction was frantic disbelief. I panicked. Finally, I sought God, instead of automatically assuming what would be His message for me to impart. Frantically, I pleaded with God as to how I could communicate His peace in the midst of my home, which had suddenly become a demolition derby.

Now, that I, at long last, committed my attention to hearing God’s voice, instead of thinking I could read His mind, God spoke to me loud and clear. His words were that He was not asking me to share His tranquility. He was telling me to relate that He was putting her life into a construction zone. She was being hammered and chiseled into the child of His that he needed her to be.

Long story short, and the moral of this story, my blessing is not that I think God’s thoughts but rather that God, through His grace, overpowers my thoughts and does whatever it takes for me to hear His message within my heart and soul. “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.” Psalm 32:8 (ESV)

One of my most treasured gifts is to “walk behind” my grown children. That each allows me this honor is cherished beyond words. Also, with this privilege comes my recognition, and willing acceptance, of the translation of “walking behind”. In honesty, I admit there are instances when I chuckle or squirm while reminding myself the blunt reality of “walking behind”.

“Walking behind” literally translates into I am not leading. Another is leading!!! My mom/grammy heart no longer dons the sergeant’s hat and gives the orders for the day. My troops have graduated with honors and now lead the way. Both prayerfully and skillfully, they make the decisions and execute them. In exchange for calling the shots, encouragement, understanding and proud love are, forever, my offering to help fuel their lives’ journeys.

Sometimes, it seems more automatic (and easier) to “walk behind” my children than it is for me “walk behind” my Father, God. “Whoever, says he abides in Him ought to walk in the same way in which He walked.” 1John 2:6 (ESV). It’s comical (and arguably pathetic) for me to even contemplate for a second that, on my own, I am called to navigate and lead my way to eternal life. So why is it so natural to attempt this and actually harbor thoughts that my mooring myself to a vessel navigated by me will in any way, shape or form end up being my soul’s lifeboat? Much the opposite is true. The only channel leading to the shore of Heaven’s seas is sailed by dropping my anchor of hope behind God’s stewardship and, gratefully, letting Him tow me home.

No better, safer or more honorable a place exists than “walking behind” God. Instead of venturing out alone and against all odds, we all are offered the choice of “walking behind” God. He, and He alone, can part the stormy waters of life and guide us through all peril. However, for God to do this, I (and you) need to choose to “walk behind”. My choice is made. What about you???

Truly, one of my most cherished possessions is the yearly calendar my daughter, Britt, designs for me each Christmas. Each month is adorned with scenes of my three grandbabies. This year, however, their pictures breathe new meaning into the pages of my weeks.

I laugh at myself, and at times even scold myself a little, for overlooking the calendar’s symbolic significance the last two years. Oh well, I guess for me, there is new truth in the old adage, “three is the magic charm”!!!

You might be wondering, where was my off course thinking the initial two years. To be honest, I cluttered each and every daily date box with the curse of worldly scheduling. In doing so, I failed to bask in what truly matters in the minutes of my day — the blessing of my family.

Thus, this year, while my calendar still reigns in place of honor in my kitchen, I refuse to masquerade it with overcrowded scheduling. For you see, it is so easy to overlook what truly matters in life as we struggle to survive our frantic chores. So, I’ve cleared off the camouflage and, straight on, keep my sight zeroed in on the prize — my family. Result is, the tank of my busy days is joy filled, not running on empty.

In place of squeezing more chaos into my routine, I have chosen to allow only the reminder of the meaningful days Britt has already imprinted on my calendar. Believe me, life overflows in love when one solely and “soul”y focuses on the reminder of birthdays (both on earth and into heaven), anniversaries and Holy Days. What more is needed to guide and guard my brightest days and stormiest nights?

Great peace and gratification surround my life, now, as I continually pass my unencumbered view of my family, who deeply fill my life and nourish my entire being. The schedule of “must do’s”, no longer ruling my wall, still gets accomplished; but no longer does it block my vision of the source that deep down programs the welfare of my beating (and sometimes, beaten up) heart and soul.

This week, while cleaning out old files, these words fell to the ground. Picking them up and glancing over them, I elevated them from floor to score one for a still vital lesson. The prose was from years ago, but it defines present day needed wisdom, too. Thus, I decided to take a stroll down memory lane and re-share what I penned a quarter of a century ago.

Once again, the dreaded countdown had begun. Moms around the world know the scene. Yep, it’s the moment when with keys in the hand, and kids out of hand, you realize you and the troops must be out of the garage in 10 (no 9!!) seconds in order to get to school before the bell rings — the tardy bell, that is!! To my own shame, the fact is this morning’s countdown was not atypical but “A TYPICAL” ready for blast off experience. That was until I underwent a lift off that parted the clouds and revealed a glimpse of heaven. May I share this uplifting take off?

Somewhere amongst whacking my head on the coffee table, while looking for where “I” left Beamer’s shoes, collecting Brooke’s breakfast for carryout, locating Brittany’s retainer, corralling three dogs and a cat from outside, and trying to keep my stack from smokin’ while informing a phone solicitor it’s no courtesy to call at 8:17 A.M. asking to sweep my chimney, this mom’s frazzled brain was struck by a bolt of wisdom. This enlightening encounter changed the course of my day and, hopefully, many more to come. A new era of calculating answers to life’s dilemmas had begun.

While racing to the car, instead of the backpack, lunch box, soccer ball, gym shoes checklist my kids usually heard me yelling, a new and revolutionary proclamation filled their ears and fears. Commandeering my troops into the van, I dogmatically decreed mommy had figured out what was wrong with the world, education and, even, our family. What’s more mommy was fed up, and we were going to fix it starting now. Nine-year-old Britt gasped, “Mom, you mean we’re going to have to add EVEN MORE WORK to our list?”. My reply articulated, “Nope, less”.

In straight forward, elementary language, I calculated the problem with the world, education and families is that the point from which all evolves, and revolves, is addition and multiplication. It should be subtraction and division. Think about it. What factors are indelibly embedded as the crux of education? No student is ever introduced to subtraction or division before first mastering addition and multiplication. Scholastic theory is if a child masters addition and multiplication, he’ll naturally be able to understand subtraction and division. In my view, this perspective is backward.

If life adds up to being wrapped up in multiplying MORE, TIMES MORE, TIMES MORE, the product is never being happy, or fulfilled, because YOU are God’s very special ONE. Shouldn’t the oneness of each of us be the greatest of all our worth and wealth? Our lives are being destroyed by needing to have more. This leads to the lump sum of even if we have everything, no matter how great it is, it doesn’t add up to being enough. In the world no accomplishment, amount of credit cards or, pathetically speaking, number of bills seems to be enough — let alone too much. In American education, even 100% isn’t good enough anymore. We indoctrinate our children that extra credit is the only way to score. In the family, 2 cars, 3 square meals, 4 bedrooms and a 5-day work week don’t even add up to self-esteem or happiness. The world, education and families are ruled by the uncontrollable need to add, add, add and followed by multiply, multiply multiply.

Forget addition. Forget multiplication. Let’s start subtracting. Let’s start dividing. After all, what have we to lose except astronomical stress, inflated egos, over-rated materialism and no time to thank God and enjoy what we already possess.

Since I’ve been brazened enough to criticize the add ’em up and multiply principle, I guess I should, also, put forth mathematical theories in defense of my subtraction and divide postulate. So be it; here are my equations for “Figuring Out What Really Counts”– The world minus social status equals contentment. Education minus the urge to over push equals wisdom. Families minus materialism equals togetherness. Self- respect and self-esteem divided amongst all in the world equals peace. Knowledge divided into basics equals intelligence. People divided into God-centered Families equals Faith, Hope and Love.

My bottom-line equals I choose that subtract and divide will now rule my family’s life. We’re subtracting the stress of trying to accomplish too much. We’re dividing each day into a time to feel blessed, a time to play, a time to laugh, a time to do NOTHING and, most importantly, time to pray. Could one really want more or settle for less?

Today, a quarter of a century later, I am grateful for having made this declaration for my family. None have lost even an ounce of what God deemed they were destined to merit, but all garnered their deepest need is to subtract the material and divide their days into cherishing God and family as their first and foremost blessings.