Author: bonniejeancarr

     It’s true.   A picture is worth a thousand words,   More accurately, I acknowledge that God’s one frame picture out speaks thousands of man written words.

     So very much, God is leading me through right now – and I’m pretty sure all of you in your lives too.   It’s innate for me in times of need to draw even closer to God, lean heavier on His strength and plop harder into His arms.   However, I must confess, though God accepts me any way I come, He did realign my route this week, to which I declare, lesson learned, God.   May I share God’s gift of insight with you?

     In the past months, as life has pounded me with more and more to maneuver through, my compass has remained God.   However, sadly, I admit the encasement for God as my compass has added too many layers of man’s Godly writing over the bare bone of God’s Word.  

     The more stressful the moment, the more I added on one more devotional or one more page of a human’s book about God.   Finally, early yesterday morn, surrounded in predawn darkness and reaching for another word ON God, I cried out, “ I just really want and need to simply talk to you, God, and YOU to talk to me.”   And so, my old fashioned “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28 NIV) one on one with God was revived.

     Immediately, I felt inner peace at God’s feet.   I don’t mean to sound trite or disrespectful, but I was in God’s midst over being amidst in man’s words concerning God’s promised presence.   God spoke HIS word to me, not others’ words about Him.   Scripture permeated my being and reinforced God’s will and way.   I realized words talking about God can’t replace God, Himself, talking directly to me.

     Not more than a few hours later, I walked by a TV set and was stopped cold in my tracks.   The image of Caroline Ingalls froze my path.   I could immediately sense the Ingalls family was enduring a serious challenge beyond their power to control, let alone stop.   Clutched in Caroline Ingalls’ arms was a well- worn, open book – God’s Book, the Bible.   Little House on the Prairie was pioneering a message way beyond, and before, our American Frontier.   Directly from God’s Book, His Word, His Bible comes our only source of being carried through life’s momentary storms and into eternal tranquility and glory.

     What am I trying to say?   I’m not trying to state man’s written words about God are useless or without power or purpose.   What I am suggesting is that they must be secondary to God’s own words, the Bible.   We need to remember man’s words are not a meat, potatoes and vegetable substitute for God’s words.   Rather, man’s words are whip cream on dessert.   Dessert is made to be enjoyed, but only after a “heart”y dinner of chewing on and digesting God’s words as our main course.

     Our bookshelves are overflowing with publications and subscriptions charting man’s words concerning the way to God.   Are we purchasing this medicine over pursuing God’s very own prescription for reaching His throne – reading HIS BIBLE?   I confess, I personally was falling into this temptation.  

     Thank you, Caroline Ingalls, for a flashback to the “soul”itary compass that, above all man made road maps, was written to guide my (and all of your) journey through the storms on earth and into the “Sun”shine of heaven.

     One last thought to ponder – when last have you cried out, God, I just really need and want to simply talk to You and You to talk to me?   I promise you, when you do, God will answer.

     Being carried by God is not a car ride.   When carried by our Heavenly Father, we can’t set the speed, chart the route, detour around construction, put the visor down to see more clearly, switch on the high beams to eliminate darkness, decide we need to drive into a gas station to be pumped with petro, or decide to stop and declare the journey is completed.

     Switch gears with me.   Together, let’s reflect on being carried by God.

     I, as a human being, thought, foolishly, that it is my choice to conclude I am exhausted, defeated and can’t go another step.   This week, when finding myself at this point, amidst my screaming sighs, I heard God’s soft whisper: if “I” am carrying you, as you’ve pleaded Me to do and I have complied, you can’t decide to stop.   That’s My decision, not yours.   For you to stop on your own, you would have to be dropped out of My hands.   Not happening.   My hands do not give way nor be halted by any, and all, worldly challenges, failures or storms.   My hands get over, under, around and through whatever happens; and, if you trust the cradle of my palms, so will you.

Over, under, around and through but never stopped – that is our God’s promise to me and each and every one of you.   Thus, next time you and I feel we can go no further and choose defeated and stopped as our only resort, let’s remember and holdfast to this basic equation.   If God is carrying us = we can’t be the one who chooses to stop our journey.   Pondering this Divine proclamation will likely result in possessing the absolute answer to many, if not all, of our abstract fears and defeats.

     Easter morn, twenty-nine years ago, this teary-eyed mother stood in a church beside my almost four year old son, praying words of thanksgiving.   For you see, thirty-three years ago, on Easter morn, God miraculously healed my newborn’s premature lungs by breathing His life into my infant’s body.   Every Easter since, my heart and soul doubly commemorates life giving Resurrection.

     Back to that Easter morn, twenty-nine years back.   With eyes that took it all in and voice that let it all out, almost four year old Beamer was participating in church service as a big boy.   He knew his toddler prayers and measured up in heart to all grown up Amens and in soul to all hymns of praise.   In fact, in song Beamer’s voice drowned out the choir.

     From minister at the front to usher in the back, everyone heard Beamer’s childish voice praising from the bottom of his toes to the top of his strong lungs.  Very loud and filled with energy, “Howie Lou Yah” left his lips and filled everyone’s soul with true Easter joy springing from a little boy.

     Service over, many a parishioner thanked Beamer for his praise and added how honored God must be to have such a devoted little worshiper.  Once inside his car seat, Beamer, so innocently, spoke.   “Mom, when am I going to meet him?”   Completely confused, I asked, “Who are you talking about?”   “Howie Lou Yah”, Beamer explained, “You know, the man we sang to in church.”   My heart, filling my throat, I told my healthy little boy, “You already know to whom we sang in church.   You met Him when you were born.”

     Today my mommy soul ponders.   This morn, the world’s children have met the Easter Bunny; but how many of these little tykes have been introduced to their brother, Christ???    

     A highlight of welcoming Spring finds me at my favorite herb nursery.   This year I was pleasantly surprised to discover Blue African Basil was plentiful, robust and waiting to adorn both my herb garden and its spot amidst my lantana and crepe myrtle.   Last year’s height of the pandemic’s arrival meant this herb departed from reigning in my garden.   Now, it is back!!!  

     What’s so special, you might wonder, about a basil plant?   They are a dime a dozen and even fill the grocery store produce aisles.   However, an atypical fuss over a common herb is not unwarranted, if the herb is Blue African Basil.   Blue African Basil is extraordinary.   In fact, its attributes dwarf all its relatives.   In mere weeks, this particular herb from a three inch plastic pot transforms into one of the largest bushes in my yard.   Of even greater wonder, hundreds of honey bees and butterflies adorn it like ornaments on a Christmas tree, and they stay until Autumn’s coolness chases them away.

     Year after year, I marvel at a Blue African Basil’s hardiness.   Transplant it into the ground and my work is done.   That is, until this year.   While my basil amongst my lantana and crepe myrtle immediately began to morph in size, the one spotlighted in place of honor within my herb garden is struggling to survive – forget about multiplying.

     What happened and why were answers not under my thumb – green or otherwise.   The leaves were stressed and limp.   I thought water to the rescue.  So began a constant checkmate.   My sprinkling can quart of water rained over my plant.   Half an hour later, upright and full of life, the stalks looked princely majestic and on their way to once more reigning kingly.   But wait, sixty minutes passed, and again, bent over and parched, this one Blue African Basil was headed south.   And so, the “rain to reign” saga was repeated over and over again, now for three days running.  

     Finally completely stymied, I decided there had to be a message.   Mine now became the challenge of changing focus from trying to defy an unnatural and undesired reality to understanding a heavenly message tucked into a worldly misgiving.   Thus, sitting under a beautiful sunlit day, God’s essence opened my eyes to two images.   One I share today.   The other waits for a tomorrow.

     Our children are all seeds we plant and want to watch tower.   Many offspring are blessed with deep rooted stalks, capable of standing firm, branching out and ultimately seasoning life with Godly flavor.   Do we as Christian parents take this for granted?   I think I have.   However, in vigilant watch, care and accepting nothing but strong life running through my struggling shoot, for the first time I felt empathy for the God centered parent refusing to give up on saving their child struggling with weakness.

     Too often, society comments, criticizes and cuts down a wayward offspring.   We overlook the never give up earthly parent, who with God behind, beside, above and beneath them, refuses to just let their loved one shrivel up, dehydrated from refusing God’s lifesaving redemptive baptismal waters of forgiveness and restoration.

     God’s love for His wayward children penetrates even deeper than the love of an earthly parent.   Never giving up, God, over and over, pours His love upon His wilting, dying children and then keeps vigil.   God waits for recovery, knowing it often comes two steps forward, one step back, and sometimes, one step forward, two steps back.   Still God never gives up.  

     We, humans, too often, want, and expect, an easy fix.   Yesterday, not even today, is our timeline.   God’s watch measures time by the endless hours of eternity.   No matter how many minutes a wayward soul wastes, God stands ready to count only by the seconds – second chances.

     My pencil put down, I’m a tad more seasoned.   As I now baptize “Basil” for the umpteenth time, my heart says a prayer not only for all wayward souls, but also, for their loved ones shedding tears pleading, hopefully, their tear drops turn into baptismal waters.   Like all prayers offered everywhere and by everyone, God hears and holds each and every uttered prayer dearly as He faithfully stands watch till all our steps, both backward and forward, are eternally completed.  Above all, there is always hope.   That’s why I keep watering my wayward basil!!!

     Couple of days ago while out with my walking buddy, Joyce, she asked me to re-copy her a song I’d once shared with her – “One Pair of Hands”.   Many times, Joyce has been the angel pointing me to God, but I completely side stepped it this time.   Our conversation continued without my, even momentarily, reflecting on the meaning of the music beats Joyce had desired to re-hear.   Shamefully, I must admit, while walking off the stress of feeling worldly beat, I was deaf to God’s reminder from where the true beat of stress relief “soul”y flows.  

     Fast forward to this early morn.   Predawn and I’m still struggling to sense God’s guidance on what today’s blog should message.   I fed the animals and headed to my elliptical for my daily workout.   Thought maybe I’d find an uplifting, heart filled theme for today while raising my pulse.   Little did I anticipate how the message had arrived days ago.  

     If you have followed this blog at all, you most likely know my inspirational playlists are my mainstay.   I’m truly not sure if I really listen to my playlists so I can exercise, or if I exercise so I can listen to my playlists.   Probably, the later holds more honesty.  

     Earbuds in, playlist started and my legs began to stride.   I’d settled into the playlist I dub “Storms may rain, but GOD REIGNS”.   Few songs in, as my heart rate was pumping hard, it was my soul that suddenly soared by leaps and bounds.

     I never question when “strange” or “impossible” things happen in my life.   Instead, not surprised but awakened, I proclaim, “Gotcha, God”!!!   This morning, three songs into my playlist, a song, not on that playlist, came streaming through.   Yep, you probably guessed right.   It was “One Pair of Hands” – GOD’S HANDS!!!

     Nonsequential lyric phrases include: “One pair of hands formed the mountains”… “One pair of hands calmed the raging storm”… “One pair of hands said I love you and those hands were nailed  to a tree”… “Those hands are so strong, so when life goes wrong, put your faith in one pair of hands”.  (Song by Carroll Roberson)

     How many, many times, when I am overwhelmed with the challenge ahead, do I alert and rely on “all hands on deck” for the extra group strength and power to withstand the storm or accomplish the impending feat?   Yes, there is power in numbers, but God calls me (and you) first, foremost and lasting to trust all needs to the most Almighty, life giving number of all – “ONE PAIR OF HANDS”  

     How many times have we tried to rationalize with a child concerning what is right or wrong, or what they must or must not do?   Explanation after explanation, example after example, and even, threat after threat, many times, no matter what we say, it is to no avail.   The stubborn, often out of control, child is convinced he/she knows far more, and far better, than the older, out of fashion superior in control.   In exasperation, the being of authority can only shout, “Because I said so”!!!   (Are you laughing yet, or maybe even crying???)

     What if the child defying what is right is not our earthly offspring but us, the children of God?   What if it is not us, but God, who stands as parent trying to grow, or even save, the wayward child?  

     God’s Bible is the loving words of rationale for us to listen and heed, but do we?   When the Word of God does not penetrate and be followed, God’s last command, like ours, stands firmly and mightily cries back “Because I Said So”.

     If I, and you, accepted God in this parent vision, we might, also, better visualize and follow the will and way to which God calls, and commands, us.   Of equal insight, we might additionally see life’s storms are best calmed, or navigated around, if we listen to our Father God’s warning and directions.  

     God’s children were not created to force the ultimatum, “Because I said so”; but, rest assured, these words are in God’s vocabulary.   Though not God’s desired verbiage, when no other recourse remains, God, like us, loves His children too deeply to back down from demanding, and enforcing, His authority behind “Because I said so”.  

     Look at the world around, and unfortunately inside, us.   If we continue in defiance of all God has commanded us through His Bible words, we just might be momentarily facing His final ultimatum, BECAUSE I SAID SO.”  

     Have you ever wondered if God desires us to struggle to be strong or to acknowledge our weakness?   Struggling to be strong, for me, has been a calling for most of my life.   However, this entire journey, Christ, not me, has been the source of my endurance, purpose and pursuit.   In truth, I feel the calling of my struggling to be strong has always been from God; but I’ve been so preoccupied with being strong through Christ’s strength that I’ve overlooked the blessing comfort that flows from acknowledging my weakness.

     I expect, even demand, myself to be strong.   I climb on Christ’s shoulders to accomplish this.  “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”  Philippians 4:13 (NKJV)   None the less, equal reliance on accepting my weakness is demanded to accomplish God’s personal calling for me, and likewise each of you.   Acknowledging our weakness lands me, and you, in God’s welcoming, embracing, protective and powerful arms.   Maybe God created us weak so that our need would be to continually go back to Him to have our tears wiped away, our failures overcome, our broken hearts healed and our worn souls re-energized with God’s grace as we struggle to be strong for, and through, Him.

     Thus, I ask, to be and do what God has created me, and you, to individually attain, do we not need to struggle to be strong and to, also, collapse in our weakness?   Bottom line, we are best prepared to be strong in our struggles, if we first, crushed by our weakness, seek refuge in God our Father’s arms.   “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  2Corinthians 12:9 (NKJV)

     Don’t know about you; but for me, at my hardest life’s races, only God carrying me gets me across the finish line.   Being an over the hill, ex-professional athlete, my greatest triumphs were not gliding with ease across the slippery slopes but the many times I crawled into God’s arms, and He generated my pursuit of melting a world too often crusted in ice.   At such moments, my perception of God might not have been Biblically based, but I truly felt God shaking His head while His smile transmitted understanding, acceptance and support.

     Simply stated, I did then, and do now, fully believe and proclaim God really does suit up for the game.   In other words, God loves me (and you) enough to take off His heavenly robe and don work clothes to join me, and carry me, as I attempt to merit heaven’s trophy.   For me, feeling God by my side doesn’t just bring God closer to me.   It brings me closer to God.

     Too often, children of God are taught God sits in heaven wearing a flowy, majestic robe judging us and scoring whether we merit His award.   However, maybe what the young, old and in between truly need to know, and believe, is that God, out of love, substitutes His regal robe for whatever attire we wear as we face off to life’s races.   God always meets us where we are and carries us to where He yearns and needs us to be.   God does not sit in heaven in glorious clothes while we labor below to win both earth’s nightmares and heaven’s dreams.   He joins us where we are, and He comes dressed for our challenges.  

     God, pictured in work out attire, is not meant to be disrespectful or a far out image.   Rather, it’s a close up view of our God meeting us wherever we are and fully equipped to go the distance with, and for, us.   One last vision I’d like to share.   While I, on earth, picture God in work out attire, I’d bet my bottom dollar, God sits in heaven and pictures both you and me someday wearing a celestial robe.       

     It’s true.   Many of us know God’s presence is constant.   How many times a week, day, hour or minute do we pray: “Hi, God, it’s me again!!!”   By now, any of you who have read even a smidgen of my blog know many of my numerous conversations with God are as I walk my backyard lake path.   Well, let me further inform you.   “Hi, God, it’s me again” doesn’t exclusively resonate lake side.   Praise, gratitude, need and fear permeate my entire life, not just my walks – so much so that of late I’ve been apologizing to God for barging in so frequently.   To which I sensed God saying: “Hi, God, it’s me again” comes from My children who cannot live without Me.  My heart is only heavy laden when hearing “Hello, God, do You remember me?”   I am not the one who ever forgets a single soul I created.   It is solely they who forget Me and feel, because of their absence, they must ask if I remember them.

     Upon reflection, I could not help but wonder if “Hello, God, do You remember me” are not some of the saddest words God ever hears us, humans, utter.

     God calls us, Christians, to bring EVERYTHING to Him – joy and praise for His powerful presence, sorrow and fear for our trials and tribulations, and gratitude and thanksgiving for all our given blessings.   If we heed His summon, how can our words be less than “Hi, God, it’s me again”.   Flip side, if ever we feel distant and need to ask God “do You remember me”, we should, also, wonder who moved away and failed to keep close in kinship?

     This post is not to judge or preach.   It solely wishes to awaken any soul who wonders does God remember me.   Yes, God, always and forever, remembers you; and He only seeks that you don’t forget Him.  

     “…I will not forget you!  See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands.”   Isaiah 49: 15-16  (NIV)

     Her image never escapes me.   With hands, knees and hips crippled from arthritis, Carmen’s passionate voice enabled all her Bible Study Students to run the good race of chasing after God’s Word.   Year after year, I sat mesmerized and, like a sponge, absorbing every syllable of Scripture she both analyzed and prayed with her Bible Study disciples.   Many Bible quotes, and their meaning, are embedded in my memory, thanks to Carmen.   In addition, one “Carmen Adage” ranks eternal in my recall.

     “Go to the Throne before the phone” was Carmen’s universal advice for the good, the bad and, even, the mediocre days of our lives.   Think about it.   In your life, whether you are excited, confused, angry, fearful or bored, where do you instinctively go – to the Throne or to the phone???   Boils down to, do we impulsively gossip, complain and explain via the phone; or do we innately run to God to share our news, needs and nervosities???

     Many, many yesterdays have dawned and departed since I sat under Carmen’s tutelage, but her imprint remains today and will not disappear any tomorrow.   Might not see her in person till we meet again in heaven, yet the vision of Carmen’s frail body being real muscle for our Lord is a repetitive rerun from the library of my most indebted to mentors.   She taught me well to “Go to the Throne before the phone”.   May Carmen, likewise, bring you food, not only, for thought, but also, for direction.