Thursday, August 4, 2016

Reminded of Home

I really had not thought about it all week. The looming appointment I was instructed to make by my doctor. He wasn't completely satisfied with my recent mammogram so I needed to do some more testing. I was caught up in my busy world, I placed that one hour of my week at the bottom of my list where it remained...until today. I was doing great, until I left my house, my comfort zone. As miles passed under the tread of my tires, I decided last minute to drive through my hometown on the way to my appointment. It would only take a few minutes longer and by this time I had gotten pretty nervous. I thought if I could just get back to common ground just for a minute...I'd be okay.

I prayed for peace with whatever I was about to face but my main concern was my family. I didn't want to tell my Mama, my kids or coworkers bad news and cause them to worry. Tears were welling and the devil was stalking nearby, wanting me to stay focused on how much hurt and pain I was probably about to cause them. I wanted to block it out and again, I sought The Lord's reassurance. The devil kept pressing me to believe that I was deceitful for telling almost nobody where I really going today. My husband knew, a few coworkers, and The Lord. I continued that long drive and finally reached my hometown where I briefly found relief. I was reminded of home.

The tears had almost subsided and I decided to stop in for breakfast. A lump in my throat nearly constricted my voice as the devil placed fear right back in my bones. I managed to order, drive forward, and begin the tears again. I dropped down my sunglasses and pretended to be okay until I got to the cashier. As she was gathering my order, I noticed the lady standing near her. I recognized her as a local, we went to the same high school, she was much younger but through social media, I get to see that she is very active in my hometown community. She's a strong Christian, works in the hedges and the highways to serve her Lord and she was familiar. She reminded me of HOME.

I think if I had just opened my mouth I would have screamed, "I'm scared!!! I am terrified!!!Pray for me and my family!!!" But I couldn't speak. I reached out to hand the cashier money and she handed me my food saying, "Your meal has been paid for and you have these people to thank."

Oh, I was confused for a second, thanked the girl and drove up. As I reached the end of the parking lot, I looked down and saw this....

It was from the lady, that familiar lady from school. I started laughing. That wonderful spiritual laugh when you know you are crying your eyes out because The Lord just did ALL OF THAT for you. HE had already been planning that way ahead of time. He placed her there for me. She was serving The Lord and look what a Blessing she was to me. Again, I was reminded of HOME. I drove many miles more until the uneasy set in again. I progressed closer and closer to the hospital and my blood pulsed faster, my hands were sweating and the lump was back in my throat. The devil was wanting so hard for me to fall apart and I was trying my best not to cave.

As I was turning onto that final road that led me to the hospital, I was feeling guilty for not telling my kids or my mother where I was and what I was doing but I knew they would worry, and that wouldn't help anything. Just as the tears started to pool in my eyes again, something overhead caught my eye. It was a large flock of geese. If you ever read my story "The Calling of the Geese" then you know how special this was to me. I smiled so big my heart filled with happy. This too reminded me of HOME.

I walked into that appointment with my head held high. It didn't matter what the results were going to be, I was going to deal with it. It didn't matter what I had to go back and face my family with, I was going to deal with it. I sat next to an elderly lady and bless her heart she was more nervous than me. She wore fright upon her face so I smiled at her, spoke to her slowly, and enjoyed our few minutes together. I walked out of there with a good report this time and I'm thankful for that but as close as The Lord was the whole time...the devil was riding my skirt tale. I am so Blessed this day that The Lord took time, and reminded me of HOME.

((and thank you to the lady, not just for buying my breakfast, but for being who you are, just keep minding The Lord))

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

The Burden of a Blessing

I awoke in a horrid sweat. I had been somewhere, some place awful. I took a few clearing breaths to try and cleanse the repulsive, the evil, the disgust from my skin. My eyes opened and immediately I began replaying the nightmare over and over. I leaned over my bed, physically sick from the visions. As I leaned over, I realized my feet were bound at the ankles. I looked down at the bottom of the bed and there was a dark presence standing there, just holding me by my feet. I wasn't scared of it, I knew it couldn't hurt me, but I wanted to get away from it. I didn't want it anywhere near me, I didn't want it to touch me.

I found myself crawling away. I was no longer inside my bedroom but I found myself digging my nails in the dirt to get away. No matter how hard I tried, my efforts were futile. All I could do was pray. "Lord please take these images from me. Please wake me from this horror and remove the binding the dark one holds. Please remove the sickening visions that will haunt me forever more. Lord let me find rest in you."

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on my stomach, scratching the mattress, still fighting to get away. I looked down and saw only red digital numbers across the room from the clock. The dark one was gone. I had no reason to doubt the Lord but I tested my prayer. I tried to immediately think of where I had been, what had horrified me so, and could not remember. The only thing I remembered was the feeling of being sick in the vile darkness. I remember the dark creature that held my ankles...and I knew The Lord had a message for me, but what?

I went about my day consumed with the idea that the devil was holding me back from something, but what? Church was going great, everyone seemed to be on fire! We were attending anytime the doors were opened. I was writing down everything I could that HE was showing me. That seemed to be my new job, a Gift He had only begun to Bless me with. I can barely write a decent grocery list so I cherished the new treasure. I did everything I could to bring our Spirit filled services home, to write about and to share with the ones who weren't there...hoping they might be get a Blessing, a Touch, no matter their distance. So what more did HE want? What was I not doing?

I couldn't figure it out. The next night, I fell asleep with little trouble, though I continued to ponder the purpose of the previous night's experience. I have no idea what time it was, but without warning, my eyes popped opened wide toward the ceiling. I knew where I was, I knew I was safe, but I could not blink nor take my eyes from the ceiling. Tears from my drying eyes began to pour down but what I was about to see, would answer the burning question of what more can I do?

It was just like a movie only I wasn't viewing a flat screen. I lay there for hours, paralyzed in body just watching it. It was like interlocking events I've experienced, or seen through my natural eyes that I could have never linked. I was watching people I've never seen before connect things together that I had no idea could be related. Though the events weren't exactly as they had happened to me, or exactly like I remembered with my common eyes, I was getting a much bigger picture of something. HE showed me how and why some of the things, even the not so nice things, I've been witness to, could work for His Good. There was a message in the story, and I just lay there consuming every morsel He would let me have. When it ended, my pillow was soaked, and I knew what I had to do. I was to write it down.

I couldn't or wouldn't refuse the burden. I was awestruck for days. With my mouth dragging open many times in amazement, that he would choose me for such a task, I sat down, and I wrote. I wrote for days, I wrote for weeks. As time drew away from the glorious midnight vision I call it, I became weary, and slack. The devil is really good and distracting, and lying, and trying his best to convince you not to do what The Lord asks of you. I carried this burden for quite some time, and though it is by far from perfect in form, it is the story...at least part of it. If nobody ever reads it, it has been a Blessing to me. I learned from my disobedience as well as my obedience. I am honored and to have carried the burden of this blessing. I introduce to you: Ladybug.
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I ask for your prayers as I still carry the burden of finishing the story as it was shown to me. I do not write fiction, never have been able to. My mind isn't as imaginative as it needs to be for that type of work. So pray as I try my best to finish the story. It will take more than my feeble memory to recite it so the true message shines and I will rely heavily on His hand for guidance. I hate to leave people hanging for too long so hopefully by Fall the conclusion will be out. Blessed beyond measure by what he provides Spiritually for me each and every day!

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

When the Paint Don't Dry

As soon as we made it through those glass doors, everything slowed down. People were moving around the small country church on this second night of revival with outstretched hands in salutation and passing smiles from one to the other. The door had barely shut behind us and I saw a young lady stepping towards the altar. She looked downward and slowly placed both palms down on the smooth piece of wood. The carpet seemed to just reach up and take her by the knees and the small crowd that was there gathered around her as she wept. This day, when the rainbow stretched over our steeple...church began before the first song, before the first Testimony, before the Pastor even stood.

photo by Drew Hubbard

We quickly settled on a pew and I closed my eyes in prayer. I could feel hurt and heartache for her though I had no idea why. The Lord was letting us know loud and clear that He had reason for us to gather in His House tonight. The songs began and we all found ourselves right back down at the altar with the young lady who still needed her Lord. Two by two the knees bent and tears soaked the carpet below. I prayed silently, "Lord, your children weep. Your children are crying....can you hear the flock crying for our Shepherd?" Immediately, I received Assurance that not only did He hear our cries, He knew one from the other. Hearts were beating tears for just a moment and He wrapped His loving arms around crowd. I looked around at the mass of people and one by one heads were lifting with that same kind of Assurance.

The visiting preacher stood and he too began real slow. I sat in amazement of our Lord as he took this young man and sent him to that place. I watched a man go outside the glass doors, grab the devil and sin right by the nape of the neck and drag it back in to the front of the church. He stood it up before us and we watched, not knowing what would come next. We each took a look at vile, we listened to the sound of empty, and we sipped from a bitter cup that life has often poured, and it was as plain as I've ever heard, plain enough that even children were hanging on every word. He then talked of the Gift. He spoke of Salvation with ever bit of delicate his voice could offer...and the preacher never had to walk away from the front of the church. When his picture had been painted, it hung there at the face of the church and we watched, expecting it to dry.

When invitation began, the question was asked, who needed to pray? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement and I held my breath. Her strong eight year old hands pushed down on the wheels of her chair as she began to roll her way down to the front. I gasped at the thought and I waited until she reached the altar before my feet moved. The huge crowd surrounded the girl and her family and all I could do was thank Him. I knew He was reaching down and touching her right then. There's things this world can't possibly give that child but at that moment, He promised her everything. I have always said, I go to the church of The Gifted. That church is full of special needs. I can look around and see hearing devices, a wheelchair, children feeling their way around but there's more than that under that steeple. The Lord sees all of our special needs and each one is just as important as the next.

It didn't take long before another child of The King went to that place. That place she's been before, and He restored in her exactly what she longed for. As I sat back on the pew I knew my heart couldn't keep up on its own and I thanked Him again for bringing me here. I looked back up at that beautiful painting He made just for us and the paint was still damp. It had already changed in a matter of minutes and color seemed even brighter than before. I said to myself it just don't get prettier than this...and yet it did.

I saw more movement and this time my head made a blatant turn. His first grade fluorescent green socks carried him up to the altar. His tiny forearm covered his eyes as he lay his head down on that old piece of wood. My hands nor tissue could keep up with the river flowing from my eyes and I thanked Him yet again this night. My body began to laugh out loud as I watched the child pray and HE was doing it again, right in front of our eyes. His parents wailed in thanks and praise as once again, The Lord touched one of their own. This one here, kneeling for his healing, kneeling for his Salvation, rarely passes by me without reaching his arms out for a hug so I consider him one of mine. This child has given to me when I needed, he's a light in my busy school day and here he was, speaking to the same Savior that gave to me. Oh what joy can't even be described when you get to witness such a miracle.

We have one more official night of Revival and I can honestly say the paint isn't dry yet. I look forward to walking in again tonight and sitting among the artist who hold the brushes. He has more life to give our painting and I am Blessed once again as undeserving as I am.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

The Spot

Standing tall, clothed in stark white, the wall embraced both ceiling and floor at exactly the same time. I couldn't help but see the spot, just behind the piano. I told myself it doesn't matter how clean and white something is, the one spot of darkness can smudge, it can distract.

I felt the creak of the old hymnal as I opened it carefully. The fragrance of the aging trees from which the paper was made and bound together, circulated the pews. We held the books carefully and began the Sunday service with humble voices. I watched a daddy walk up to the piano with little girls surrounding him, his own tiny daughter, his nieces dressed in charm. One of the girls watched people sing as she tried to mouth the words to "I'll Fly Away." In all her daintiness, I imagined her riding by this old church in her adult future, and remembering how we sang, how we Praised, and how we Worshiped.

A Deacon walked to the front with his mother by his side. Just the sight of the two together warms my heart and the lady who sat behind the piano began to play. They all sang, "Through the wind and rain, it had still remained..." and I knew the blood was there. The eldest of the three Testified after the song ended. Then it seemed The Spirit was moving around the room, touching one, then the other. It began raining inside the church, though the wall was still holding the ceiling well. It was still as white and blameless as it always had been, but yet there was a river inside.

Testimonies rose as many offered meek Praise for the sister we all gained at a church event two nights prior. It wasn't long before The Altar was buried underneath the masses of praying souls. I looked up and noticed the mother of the one saved under Friday's moon had blanketed her niece. Others were reaching up and placing their hands on the little girl's back and some began to shout. I smiled, hoping, yet knowing, what was taking place. Another one was added into The Lamb's Book of Life, right then and there.

"Oh what singing, oh what shouting!" the song continued intently.  Hands clapped with such bliss, voices roared loud with purpose, and feet pounded in delight so that even the ones who stayed in, on this raining Alabama Sunday, were sure to feel that The Spirit had moved in a Mighty way underneath that old faded steeple.

I looked back to the wall, remembering the spot...and it was gone. The dark red spot moved toward the frosty window pane as the ladybug clung tightly to the glass. I listened about how longsuffering our Lord is with us. I watched the ladybug walk surely, knowing it had made it in. Others are out in the rain, but she made it in...and in absolute true LORD fashion, the preacher stood in front of the church and began reading in 2 Peter chapter 3...."14 Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, be diligent that ye may be found of him in peace, without spot, and blameless."

That wall was now clean, without distraction, without spot. The preacher stated that sometimes you need to do more than jump in the water to clean up. It's easy to see the dirt when it's placed upon something clean. Today I'm thankful for the cleansing that took place today. I know we all get smudged sometimes but I'm glad to belong to a church where the hungry go to feed, where the thirsty are given drink, and where the muddy are cleaned.

Blessed again to find that HE is never short of Miracles.



Sunday, February 22, 2015

Where the Wrens Go

I watched a flock of wren disappear into the fog. Their soft chirps, I could barely hear. I knew they rested in the yonder tree, but the thick white blanket of clouded air hid their tiny bodies. I clasped my hands around the warm coffee mug and listened to the rain drop in slow motion. I looked downward and apologized to The Lord.

My eyes poured as the fog of disobedience, neglect and self hindrance began to clear. I asked him to let me, one more time. "One more time Lord, give me the words. Let me share once more what you've Blessed us with."

  1. The angels so sweetly are singing,
    Up there by the beautiful sea;
    Sweet chords from their gold harps are ringing,
    How beautiful heaven must be.
How beautiful heaven must be,Sweet home of the happy and free;Fair haven of rest for the weary,How beautiful heaven must be.
I thought about how quickly I arrived at church out of habit. I went there without much thought, the common road has been leading me there for a while now. I sat upon a pew as the chatter filled the sanctuary. The moment I touched the hymnal, and opened the book of songs, I thought of Him. My eyes filled while I pondered on how beautiful Heaven must be. I thought, I won't have to see men in cages on the morning news, I won't have to hear of the awful things some children have to go home to after school..."no drooping nor pining, no longing for elsewhere to be...how beautiful Heaven must be."

I could hear their song, but I couldn't see the place where the wrens had gone. I knew they were there just the same. They sang on high, above the lands of the low, and I too, began to sing.

I revisited that room. The voices began to swell as The Spirit began to move. As He stopped by each one, humbled words spoke out. Several met Him at The Altar and burdens were lifted. It wasn't long until I saw her. The girl who was looking for a Sunday School room just minutes before. Downstairs as I waited for each of my "babies" to come to class, I saw a gorgeous young girl walking down the hall. She asked which way should she go and I told her, she could choose. She walked to the room that housed the familiar face of her little cousin, and that's the direction she walked.

This time, she asked direction from Him, and He walked her right down to that Altar. Her teenage knees bent, and she accepted Him as her Savior. The church wept at the beautiful Miracle taking place before our very eyes. Sometime after she sat back down, another child made her way to the front. It was the little cousin walking slowly towards that same Altar. Her precious face turned around to look back. When she saw her Grandmother coming up the aisle behind her, the sobbing child fell to her knees, and she too accepted Him as her Savior. It was almost too much to bear for the little country church. One after the other stood in Praise. Some sought forgiveness, some sought the Eternal Home, some sought lighter burdens, but all received Him.

Here now I sat, under the wrens. The bare pines held them high and though I couldn't see them, I knew they were there. I wondered what it would be like up there, where the wrens go, looking down. I then wondered what it was like to be in Heaven this day, as the Angels Rejoiced as they gained two more. I thought how messed up we can make this world, but they still have reason to sing. It won't be long I know. They'll be more heartache, more burdens, more fog to cloud our way, but the wrens will still find reason sing. I am thankful to have been under that steeple this morning.

Blessed again and I'm not even worthy. Thankful for The Spirit this morning.



Thursday, January 15, 2015

The Climb

I drove to church because the world was falling dark. I needed to turn away from the worldly news and be in a place where The Son has risen.  I wanted to be in a place where voices lift despite the claws of this world pulling and tugging to keep everyone down...or even worse, still. I thought of the place...

I remembered the place we drove to as teens. A group of friends and I had pulled over during an adventurous jeep ride in search of a waterfall. "It's right down here somewhere," someone said and we all began to trod down the steep slope. After quite some time, we reached the bottom of this mountain and wandered the forest in search of the falls. The evening sun was fading fast and we were still in the valley, walking through trenches with water on our minds. I looked up and a cool shade blanketed the massive hill that led to our "out". Miles of searching for something pretty was taking its toll and we reluctantly began our ascent out of the woods. It had been so easy going down but the slope of the landscape made for a difficult climb out of this disappointment. Our own choices had led us there as were just looking for something, but found nothing. Now, the very things we needed, were on top of that hill where we once stood...

Every step I took forward was met with gravity's hands who pushed me backwards. My feet were slipping and I couldn't seem to get ahead. My muscles tightened as I gripped the exposed roots and I held on for dear life. My knees bent and soil covered them as I used every ounce of strength I had left to pull. The climb up had been so much harder than the descent and moist earth covered my legs, my shoes and my fingernails where I fought, and dug, and clawed my way back up.

But now I sat on a pew. I wasn't down in the valley right this minute, but I knew others that were. I whispered in my heart to them, grab onto the roots, they are strong, you will be lifted soon, you may have some dirt under your nails and scars on your knees but the mountain is right in front of you...just climb.

Though not gifted with voice, I wanted to sing. I couldn't wait for the songs to begin where the voices from behind me belonging to those Gifted in song, would carry my meek words with their's. My words, though textured with softness and humble, soon met with the Mighty and together, we were all there for one purpose. It wasn't long before the Tall Man stood with his Bible in his hands and walked to the front. He outlined his intention and read the words as a friend, as a dad, as a brother, as a son. He took his time and thoroughly explained how perception can deceive. He said the world can be as dark as I wanted it to be, and I knew The Lord was talking to me. The news can be as bad as I let it, the day can be as dark as we want if we turn enough lights off. I wanted be in the sun [son]. I wanted to see the red robin's wings and hear his music throughout the trees. I was tired of looking through bare branches and seeing nothing. The corners of my aging lips rose and I was honored and Blessed that The Lord took that time with me. I was thankful that the Tall Man stood, and spoke.

Soon the preacher rose and naturally he clinched a Bible between his fingers as well. He spoke of the woman. The woman with the blood who had found no relief, until she touched Jesus. He had made her whole, He gave her what she needed, just like He does me today. She just went seeking. The preacher showed us something The Lord had shown him and it took my breath away. There were no computers, no phones back when the woman needed Him...so how did she know? How did she find out about Him? Someone stood. Someone spoke of Him and she had heard.

Today, I want to be the one...the one that told her about Him. I want to be the one that stood, and let them all know! I thought of how bright our days would be, if everyone told a story....someone tell me how the rain stopped when you just asked...tell me how the roots held you when there was nothing else to grab onto. Blessed again today, thankful for what I can feel.

Monday, November 10, 2014

One More

When my head lifted, I knew I was about to begin my last day. I didn't ask for reasons why or how it might end...I just knew, and it was hard for me to stand. I humbly thanked HIM for the time, and I rose from knees and walked away. Tears flowed as I pressed the button on the coffee pot for the last time. I got ready for work for the last time and I sent the last "I love you" text to my husband. I spoke gently to the children as we made our way toward school. I told no one, that this might very well be the last time they see me. I went about my day with an awareness I hadn't had in a while. I smiled at people while I looked into their eyes so they knew that I saw them, that I noticed them, that they were existent to me. A little boy left his classroom and came to my office. He wrapped his arms around me just out of the blue and held me tight. I wrapped mine around him and just held him for a minute. When I let go, he didn't. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry because I needed that hug probably more than he did. His little freckled face smiled at me and he looked just like his sweet little mama right at that very moment. I choked out an I love you to him for the very last time and he went back to his class. I couldn't bare to think of how my family would react should The Lord take me HOME this day but there was a softness, a longing, a relief to know I would soon be with HIM....

At the end of the day, I was still here. There was no car wreck, no heart attack, no masked gunman that walked in and took it all away. I bowed once more and I told HIM I should have done better. I should have hugged more, I should have judged less. I should have listened harder and spoke softer. I should have lent a more delicate shoulder for friends to cry upon. I should have calmed my worldly rush and watched my children play. The river of tears ceased abruptly and with HIS hand on back, I'd been given one more...one more day to walk slower, one more day to plant seeds, one more day to see HIM in others, and I again, humbly thanked HIM for his mercy.

We made it to church. I told the children, we'd not have Sunday School this day, HE had plans and with the first song, I knew that to be true. Voices full of strength ascended from the opposite side of the room and they rained down on me. I tried to catch up with the might that mounted high above me but my voice was small...so I just listened. From the pews behind me, from the pews in front of me, from the ones across the way...one voice was loud and true and the unison was quite apparent. For the first time in a long time, it was hard to hear individuals. There was a depth from inside that could not only be heard but felt. The sun shone bright through the frost of the little glass windows and the room was white. The room began to bleed with a pureness I'd not felt in a while. Knees were bending at the altar and hands were raising high.

Voices spoke in humble trembles and I could see the mass mending no needle and thread could have repaired. I watched mothers at the altar with the tiny arms of their own children wrapped around their backs as they prayed. My eyes were burning from the sting of sin, the fountain of forgiveness and the sanctuary of salvation.

I was in HIS house at that very moment, and The Spirit was moving all around. I saw the little freckle-face boy clinging to his daddy's leg and I hoped that one day, I'd still be around to pay back that hug he had given me earlier in the week, when I needed it most. We all soon stood and began walking. We formed a line and just walked around the inside of the church to tear down any walls that might remain. Everyone was walking, but the one who couldn't. The preacher walked over to her tiny little wheelchair and began pushing her around with her mother following close behind. Shouts were heard as they soaked deep into the paneled walls. Not long after that, that very child pushed her chair to the front of the church by herself. She raised her index finger high and began singing in her sweet child voice, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine..."

The preacher refused to dismiss us as we all eventually went our separate ways but words can't describe how much we needed that service. We had to go through some things to get there and that's okay but I am Blessed beyond again this day. HE is always AMAZING! He gave me one more, when I didn't deserve it and it's up to me what I do with that...


Sunday, October 26, 2014

We Were Headed There

Common chatter filled the family car. Hair combed, teeth brushed, our Sunday clothes rested upon our backs; we were headed there. I closed my eyes and let the warm sun kiss my face as it beamed between the pines. I prayed for the others, who were gathering in...

Soon, my eyes opened again to breathe in the blessed Sunday air, and I watched the ordinary pavement pass beneath us. With only a mile separating us from there, we were in that final stretch. Anticipation made its way deep into my lungs as I envisioned that empty pew awaiting. Something up ahead moved. It was a truck speeding toward us from around the curve. It continued toward us crossing deeper and deeper into our lane. We moved over as much as we could and with only a couple of yards to defend us, I lifted my right hand knowing it would offer little protection against the windshield of glass. My husband and I gave no warning to the children, but gasped softly, awaiting for His Will to be done. At the last second, the truck was moved out of our path and we saw that steeple just up ahead, one more time.

As the hymns began, I couldn't sing loud enough. The church I had looked forward to attending this Sunday morning, was nearly shy by four this morning. I thought of the members in the vehicle behind us, and I thanked Him for not forcing the eyes of their flesh, to see us any differently than they have before. The Lord had Mercy today.

As the service continued and one young mother stood with her daughter by her side, she spoke of her dear sweet grandmother. By all standards of modern medicine, she shouldn't be here today, but for whatever reason...He has seen fit, she stay a little bit longer. I listened to the Testimonies, I listened to the songs and tears fell as I realized...we were almost headed There.

Today could have been the day, that sweet glorious day, that I left here, heading for There. I looked around the room and thought about one of the Testimonies....look at our players. We have a really strong, stout team at my little church. Everyone seems to play a different part and no one is more vital than the next. Today, I was given one more chance. One more day to teach my Sunday School littles that I know Jesus. One more day, to press on the glass doors that lead toward that Altar, one more day, to hear the earthly Angels sing His praise and one more day, to try and prepare someone else...before heading towards Home. We may not be at His feet today, but I'll carry my cross a little farther. When the sun sets, I'll be one day closer just like the preacher reminded us this morning. I have to remind myself each day, where exactly it is I am traveling...

*BLESSED AGAIN*