Tuesday, October 15, 2019

When Change is Hard

A lot of balls in the air, so I reached into the archives for this post, which seems relevant to me, at least. Maybe I need to read it more than anyone else this week.

My friend, Dolly, asked me to write on the challenge of change when we’re stuck in a rut and looking for fresh strength.  My sister, Tammy,  and I just had a discussion on that very subject last week.  

I can’t cover the whole gamut of the difficulty of change when we’re entrenched in our bad ways, so I’ll just address one of the most enduring challenges for me—and that is abiding with God in the middle of screaming external pressures.

In a Bible study, I’m currently doing, Priscilla Shirer says, “True abundance is really seen when you’re sitting in a prison circumstance, when you’re eye to eye with an impossible situation, and right in the heart of your impossible, you experience the fullness of God.”

So, the time to experience abiding and resting in God is right in the middle of a to-do list that screams to be done. Right here. Right now.

“But . . . , “ you say, “you don’t understand what I’m up against.”

We’re all up against. We all hear that voice that if we don’t get it done, the walls will cave in.

When I was trying to recover from Posttraumatic stress, people would tell me I was always in a hurry.

I was.

I was in a hurry to run away from the way I felt. But, of course, I couldn’t. I had to face it. Part of facing it was to stop, to be intentional about quiet moments. Often, I didn’t even want to sit, but I knew it was an essential part of my recovery. Instead of fighting the way I felt, I had to accept it. The way I felt wouldn’t kill me. In time, my legs and hands stopped shaking as I stopped fearing my feelings and the peace inside me grew.

We are the ones who often set ourselves up for shaking hands by our over scheduling and our excuses for not taking time outs. It’s almost as if we’re addicted to busyness. The time to stop that is now. The time for change is now.

And yes, we’re going to fail. Change is hard. But God’s grace is always there. I still struggle with hurrying, with feeling life is an emergency,  but God’s amazing grace comforts me in ways I can’t even explain.

I’ve been waking up singing this song for days. It’s taken from I John 4:4 " . . . greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world." and it helps me to know that the One inside of me is greater than anything screaming at me from the outside. And when we’re trying to find fresh strength, when we’re trying to change, these words are great news.
There might be a commercial at the beginning. Just x out of it to get to the song, "Greater," by Mercy Me.

I'm so excited to share the cover of my new book releasing in January,
A Plan for Everything!

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Saved from or saved in

A few days ago, I glanced at a green traffic light as I moved through an intersection. Just as I entered the cross roads, a black pick-up pulled right in front of me.
It seemed a black wall of disaster.

I stomped the breaks, tried to turn the car to navigate around the front of the truck, but it was useless.

The black wall rushed at me.

My tires screamed as they slid across the pavement and the scent of burning rubber assaulted my olfactory sense. I braced for impact.

Then . . .

The car stopped.

I leaned forward. My car was inches from the truck.

Shaking, I tried to take deep breaths. Yet, I marveled at how close I’d come.

I still had a ways to go before I reached home, but during that time, I reflected on all from which God saved me.

Later when I related the story to Jerry, he said an angel grabbed my back bumper to stop me.

I believe it.

Psalm 34:7 reads, “The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.”

I had a very real sense of God’s deliverance and a memory of a mealtime prayer that day which contained a request for God’s protection in travel.

Metaphorically, our lives can be filled with something like that black wall I experienced when the truck pulled in front of me. It seems calamity is rushing at us at lightning speed. Yet, God gets the last word.

I’m well aware God does not always rescue us from something, but rescues us in it. If we belong to Him, he uses all that touches us for our good and His glory. Years ago, when I was diagnosed with cancer, God warned me in advance that I faced a big challenge, yet, he chose not to save me from it, but to work through it. That's what He did.

Every day we live gives us more reasons to praise Him for what He has done and is doing, no matter what we face.

So thankful, friends, to be with you today.

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

The treasure she left behind

At our writer’s group meetings, we try to help every writer reach their goals. Those goals are as varied as the people a nurse practitioner works on an historical novel, a court interpreter writes a children’s book, a former executive secretary writes for a national magazine, a stay at home mom puts a non-fiction book proposal together, a bio-chemist pens a Bible study, a pastor inks a memoir, and the list goes on. Because I also write screenplays, we’ve even had a scriptwriter attend. However, some who come aren’t necessarily seeking publication.

Our friend Colleen was one of those. She wrote to capture her testimony for her children and grandchildren. She wanted to insure her family knew how God worked throughout her lifeto document His faithfulness. She understood memoirs are a hard sell to a publisher and their salability mostly depends on a person’s platform and reach, because publishing is a business. She wasn’t interested in developing that platform, so with that in mind, we tried to help her make the pieces readable, and always enjoyed when she shared one of them.

Three years ago, Colleen’s husband died unexpectedly, and the grief took a toll on her creativity. She dropped out of our group for a while, but a few months ago, Colleen returned. I was glad to see her writing, again.

At our meeting in mid-September, Colleen read a story about the peace of God. As always, the words were poignant. The gist was she decided not to let anything take away the peace God placed in her heart.

This past weekend, I clicked on a social media post. I couldn’t believe what I read. Colleen had died.

As I reeled from the shock of her unexpected death, I took comfort in that last story. It was as if she were leaving us with this message, “It’s fine. I have peace with God.”

Many people believe they should write a book. Sometimes our stories are for publication;  sometimes they are for encouragement to our families. If we are believers, the value of those stories is more than any other legacy one could leave and is worth committing to paper. Revelation 12:11 reads, “They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.” The power of testimony helps us conquer the enemy. If you sense God’s leading in committing your story to paper, do it. Discipline yourself to write. In the writing, you too, may be encouraged as you revisit the faithfulness of God in your life.

Some operate under the delusion that we only write when inspired. No, we write as a discipline. We sit down at the desk and do what God has asked us to do. Of course, at times, we may have the feeling of inspiration, but we should not depend on that feeling alone to guide us.

Colleen was obedient to follow God’s leading. Because of her faithfulness, and despite her unexpected death, who knows what her writing might accomplish? What a treasure she is leaving. She has certainly left one to me.

Judy, another member of our group who raises butterflies will soon release one in Colleen’s memory. Dear Colleen, thank you for all you have meant to us. We sure will miss you.


Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Someone is Coming

Jerry and I found ourselves stranded downtown. Though, we didn’t attend a recent UGA game, we decided to go to the Letterman’s Club at the stadium and watch the game for awhile, then get a ride home after things calmed down a bit.  However, it was such a high profile game with about 100,000 extra people in town besides the ones who bought game tickets, accessing networks for transportation was virtually impossible. Unless you live in a big college town, it may be hard to understand the chaos that occurs on game weekends. ESPN game day and all that.

We could walkbut not all the way home. We wandered aimlessly a while uncertain of what to do but whispering prayers in our heart. Our friends were either at the game, otherwise occupied, or too far out of town. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a vehicle pull to the curb and a man exited. I wheeled around and dashed to the car, “Who do you work for?” I asked the driver. She told me, but it didn’t matter, we couldn’t access the network. I explained our situation. “Could you take us home? And if so how much?” I told her we had cash. The real kind. Not the virtual kind. The price turned out to be right.

“I’ll take you home,” she said.

We chatted on the way and a few minutes later, when we arrived, I told her she was a real blessing and an answer to prayer. “Amen,” she said. “Thank you so much,” and let me know she shared my faith. That might have explained her kindness.

Here’s the back-story. I hesitated to go to the stadium that night because the evening before my asthma cranked up and I was concerned about getting transportation when we needed it during such a high demand time. I wasn’t sure how far I could walk. At one point, I said I wouldn’t go, but then I realized I was letting fear call the shot. So I went, and my worst fear was realized when we couldn’t initially secure a ride.

But God. God knew we needed a ride and sent a Christian woman at just the right time.

So here’s what I was reminded of during my game day adventure: Don’t let fear rule. Step out in faith, because God is faithful. Someone is coming to help whether you realize it or not. You may not know their name or ever see them again, but God has dispatched them. Trust Him.

So today, if you’re feeling stranded on your own metaphorical street corner, believe that God sees you and is sending help. You are not alone and you are not without assistance.

“For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you” (Isaiah 41:13).

Tuesday, September 17, 2019


The scouts went out and found a land replete with all that had been told to them. This was the Promised Land. After their expedition, they carried a sample of the luscious fruit growing there back to those in charge.

However, in the telling of their story, the appeal of the fruit was overshadowed by tales of giants and their strength.


“We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them” (Numbers 13:33), they said and spread the news among their people causing a rebellion.

Moses and Aaron had to deal with a real mess. Of the twelve scouts sent into the Promised Land, only Joshua and Caleb stood to recommend the Israelites should proceed.

In the end, Israel would take the land but not with the ones who grumbled against God that day. Years later, their children inherited God’s promise.

As familiar as this story is to so many of us, we still forget it when the metaphorical giants appear. We’ve sensed God’s leading, and yet all we can see in our path are the huge obstacles hovering over us like behemoth bullies. We feel like, well . . . grasshoppers. About to be squished.

We make our excuses. Our really good excuses. We take a step back. Then another. The fear takes control, and in time we’ve convinced ourselves it’s better to stay where we are than take the risk.

All the time, God is ready and waiting to walk forward with us.

The prophet Elisha found himself surrounded by the horses and chariots of the king of Aram. Elisha’s servant expressed his dismay, “What shall we do?” he asked.

“’Don’t be afraid,’ the prophet answered. ‘Those who are with us are more than those who are with them’” (2Kings 6:16).

Elisha prayed God would open the servant’s eyes. “Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

God is bigger than any bullies we can see. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”

So, if we’re feeling like grasshoppers, let’s pray God would open our eyes to see His presence overshadowing any obstacle in our path. We are NOT grasshoppers. Let’s walk forward into God’s promise repeating to ourselves that God is more. God is bigger.

God. Is. With. Us. 


Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Staying on the ship

In recent days, I’ve been troubled about two high profile people in ministry who have now announced they are no longer Christians.

My brain just cannot wrap itself around those declarations.
I keep thinking of Peter’s words, “Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life. We’ve already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:68-69 The Message).

Early in my life, I drifted to a life apart from God and his principles. I am still living the consequences of the train wreck that ensued. After roaming down those dark roads, I know from experience there is nowhere else to go and no one else to whom we can turn. C.S. Lewis once wrote that God stoops to conquer. He did with me. Only after I had exhausted other avenues did I return to Him. Yet, despite those circumstances, God received me. He reached down to where I was with love, grace, and tremendous mercy.

In our time, it may be possible to become immersed in the trappings of Christian culture and lose touch with the person of Jesus Christ.  We can begin to focus on, among other things, the business of church, social media, the hypocrisy of others (and we all have streaks of it) and simply forget the main point our relationship with Jesus. Sometimes people in ministry can rise to platforms for which they are not prepared. Their level of influence can outstrip their spirituality. That scenario is a setup for a downward spiral.

I also know that when life grows difficult, people may feel abandoned by God. I don’t know if that was the case with the two I referenced earlier, but I know it is true for others because I’ve observed it myself.

As Jerry and I were discussing this, he offered what I thought was a profound insight.  He reminded me that on the Adriatic Sea, after many days of being battered by a storm, sailors traveling with the Apostle Paul intended to board lifeboats and flee. They wanted to avoid being dashed against rocks. Paul said this to those in charge. “Unless these men stay with the ship, you cannot be saved.” So the sailors were directed to cut the lifeboats and stay. And so they were saved.

“You have to stay on the ship,” Jerry said. When life grows stormy, sometimes we have to cut what appears to be other lifeboats. We have to stay on the ship despite the storm and trust the only One who can truly save us. It’s what Peter said, “We’ve already committed ourselves . . . “ All those other options are detours and  will ultimately lead to destruction.

I will continue to be troubled over those who choose to jump ship but I believe even when they do, God is at work to bring them back.  

So friends, if life is hard right now, don’t jump ship. Stay with the only One who can take us safely to port.

Stay with Jesus.



Tuesday, September 3, 2019

If you're in the eye of the storm

It's going to be a long week here in the Southeast as Hurricane Dorian churns up the coast. The Bahamas have already seen massive destruction. As we watch and wait I remember this post I wrote a few years back when Matthew passed through. As so many are facing the eye of the storm this week, our prayers go up and we do look to the One who is our hope.

I left a conference in Atlanta where I was volunteering and found because of Hurricane Matthew, many evacuees from the coast were making their way to where the conference was held to stay with family and friends until the storm passed. Evidently, because of this, every Atlanta thoroughfare was jammed to the max.

Despite dire predictions of wind speeds and storm surge, so many that evening were waiting, watching, and hoping  that they’d have a home after the storm passed. People were as we heard often “hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.”
The mother of a woman I worked with was in an intensive care unit in Florida where the storm was about to hit. All the doctors and nurses there were under 72-hour lock down. Repeatedly, my friend’s flights to Florida had been cancelled, but she still hoped to get a flight out the next morning to be with her mother.
While volunteering at the registration desk, a  pastor and his wife approached.  ”Could we transfer our tickets to next year? The storm is veering toward the area where we pastor a church and we feel we need to return,” they said, their concern and compassion spilling out. I felt for them driving so far having just arrived the day before.

Another family I know evacuated to the north, but their home sits on a coastal marsh. Any amount of storm surge could destroy everything they owned. This family had already suffered the loss of their only son a few years back. 

My heart broke as I prayed for these folks.

I inched along in the traffic. It was clear I was going to have an extraordinarily long trip home. I turned on the radio and “In the Eye of the Storm” played. Click HERE to listen.

I couldn’t imagine a more appropriate song for those who had left everything and were now stuck on the interstate wondering what the outcome might be. It’s as if the words were written just for them. Now I cried as I prayed.

I wondered about the person who wrote “In the Eye of the Storm.” How could he write such words if he hadn’t experienced loss? When I returned home, I did a little research.

The author, Ryan Stevenson, was a paramedic for eight years, lost his mom early in life, and he and his wife suffered the miscarriage of twin daughters. He said this in a New Release Today interview, “One of the things I've seen as a paramedic is that we all have true, real struggles, ugly parts of our lives that we are dealing with and failures and defeats. In the middle of that, when we feel our sails are ripped out in the battles and wars we are going through, we can feel like we float out to sea where the Lord isn't paying attention to us and He's overlooked us. I want this song to say no to that. His promise to us is that He is the anchor of our being, and He is our only hope.”

Ryan had written the song just as a personal testimony thinking it would never see air play, but God has used it over and over to bring encouragement to those going through hard times. And I’m sure Hurricane Matthew was no exception.

So now as I write, many are digging out. Some have found trees or wind have destroyed their homes or if they’re still standing, water has flooded them. Our prayers go out to those driven from their homes because of the terrible flooding. Sadly, many lives have been lost during the lashing of this storm. So even after the storm passes, there’s so much grief and heartache still to deal with, but we remember that last thing Ryan said: “His promise to us is that He is the anchor of our being, and He is our only hope.”

That works when dealing with the effects of a storm named Matthew or one by any other name, too.
God is a safe place to hide,
    ready to help when we need him.
We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom,
    courageous in sea storm and earthquake,
Before the rush and roar of oceans,
    the tremors that shift mountains (Psalm 46:1-3 The Message).

Tuesday, August 27, 2019

When you're looking for remarkably

For some years, I have been teetering on the brink of a medical diagnosis I don’t wantnot the worst thing a person can have but not any walk in the park either. The numbers hovered at the last point on the chart before medications and other interventions would be necessary.

The tests are run every two years so I prepared myself as I waited for results this year. There wouldn’t be any reason to expect anything other than the diagnosis I dreaded. Or so I thought.

When I logged on my patient portal, I steadied myself as I read the results. I came to the sentence. “…remarkably stable …”

I sat back in my chair. I loved the doctor expressed his or her amazement that my status remained unchanged. It hadn’t improved, but it had not worsened over a period of two years.

I let those words “remarkably stable” settle into my spirit.

In this health issue, I acquiesced to the idea that a situation in motion tends to stay in motionthat given time and natural progression, I would receive the diagnosis. In my human assessment, I forgot to factor in God.

And He is the biggest factor.

So here I am amazed and remarkably stable. Well, at least in this circumstance. Big smile.

Friend, if you face a situation, which seems to be escalating and you have accepted that it will only worsen, don’t forget the God factor.

Recently, we ran into a police officer who gave a testimony about a police dog who was diagnosed with terminal cancer and expected to live only a few weeks. He showed us an x-ray from a year ago depicting the bones disintegrating and played a video of the dog limping. They prayed. Then he brought up a video made this week of the dog streaking around the yard and playing. Expected to live just weeks twelve months ago, he is now thriving. “God overrides the natural,” the police officer said.

Yes, God does. Remarkably so.

So, let’s step back, see our situation with fresh eyes, and remember how great our God truly is.

“Our Lord is great, with limitless strength; we’ll never comprehend what he knows and does” (Psalm 147:5).

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

At the Anaiah Press Blog today with Sweet Tea and Sweet Love

"We love because He first loved us" (I John 4:19).
I took a sip of my lukewarm unsweetened tea. Very different in Massachusetts from the cold sweet tea I loved so much back where we were from in Georgia.

I scanned the group gathered to eat lunchmy husband, Jerry, our eight-year-old Aaron, six-year-old Bethany, and a host of new people we were just getting to know. My husband, a pastor, and I, a worship leader, were here to help lead services at a family camp just north of Boston.

“When does school start for your children?” our new friend, Elizabeth, asked. She had been the person who initially contacted us about coming to the camp.

“We start next week after we return home.” I’d been planning and pulling together resources for our second year of home school before we’d left to come to Massachusetts. Our daughter would be joining her brother for the first time as a home schooler after going to kindergarten in a traditional school setting.
 A little voice said, “Mama, I want a desk  like Aaron’s.” It was Bethany... (Read more at the Anaiah Press site)


Tuesday, August 13, 2019

When you don't see a harvest

Once more, we tried to have a garden this year.

Neither Jerry nor I are in possession of what some call a green thumb.

He doesn’t care.

I do. I want a green thumb. I plant. I water. I go back year after year and try. It’s in my blood. My parents, grandparents and other ancestors could grow things. I should be able to do it. But alas, year after year I face disaster--drought, worms, critters, soil  so hard it takes a jack hammer to break up.

This year, I told myself, was going to be different. We’d go small―just an 8 x 8 raised bed. We’d be really focused and that was sure to bring a return. We bought the landscape timbers and soil. Who knew dirt could be so expensive? Jerry, God bless him, built the bed. After the soil was mixed, we sank squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, okra, and a few zinnias into the ground. Trying to be proactive because I knew we had rabbits, as the plants began to grow, I covered them in netting. And I watered. When temps hit the nineties in late May, I had a very inflated water bill to show for it.

Then I noticed just as the plants bloomed, the blossoms disappeared. I bought poles and more net, and made a fence all around the bed. But three things told me I had a bigger problem than rabbits. The net fence was pushed over, the tomatoes were chomped, and Lucy was going crazy barking in the middle of the night, which she never does. Jerry got up to check on her one night, let her out in the back yard, and she chased a four point buck back there who  jumped the wooden fence around our yard like it was nothing.

We have harvested a few tomatoes, one zucchini squash, and about six yellow ones. All for the low, low price of $350.


All this reminds me of a few ministry experiences we’ve had. We planted, we watered, we tended, and after a very expensive and lengthy investment, the return was not what we hoped. So frustrating.

I guess we think if we follow the plan, do what we’re supposed to do, there’s going to be a guaranteed return. There’s not.

The return is up to God.

As my husband is fond of saying, “We’re in sales, not in management.”

We have to remember, people have choices, and also, whenever we’re investing in the kingdom, the enemy is going to wage war against that work. He will target the Achilles heel and is relentless in his onslaught. Even though we may engage in spiritual warfare through prayer, sometimes there will still be disappointments.

But here’s the thing. We cannot give up hope. We have to keep planting, and tending, and watering. Because who knows what one of those seeds might turn out to be. A dry good salesman once agreed to teach a Sunday school class of teenage boys. Burdened for one of his students, he went to visit him at his place of work where he sold shoes. There in the back of a shoe store, the young D. L. Moody gave his life to Christ. It is said D. L. Moody was used by God to win more than a million souls to Christ.

But the story goes on. Here’s how one writer put it, “Through his ministry, Moody was responsible for a London pastor named F. B. Meyer coming to faith. Meyer was responsible for J. Wilbur Chapman coming to faith, and Chapman influenced Billy Sunday, another prominent evangelist of the 20th century. Billy Sunday was integral in a man named Mordecai Ham coming to faith. And Mordecai Ham was the preacher responsible for leading . . . Billy Graham to Christ.”

You may right now be planting a seed, which could turn out to be a D.L. Moody. So don’t give up, friend. Do your part and leave the results to God. Only He knows what they will be.

As for me, I’ve already started thinking about next year and how I’m going to deal with my gardening issues. I will not be defeated.

Is it wrong to hope someone else in the neighborhood gets the gardening bug, too, and maybe gives the wildlife another feeding area?


Tuesday, August 6, 2019

In the wake of El Paso and Dayton


My phone buzzed Saturday night, as did many of yours. I picked it up and read the news. My heart sank and that all too familiar sick feeling started in my stomach like seasickness as waves crash hard. I hated to tell Jerry, but I did. 

“Another shooting,” I said. “In El Paso. Looks like many casualties.”

Of course, in only hours the tragedy in Dayton unfolded. For a flickering moment, the fight or flight kicks in.  What to do, where to go in the wake of these events?

Beth Moore, a Bible teacher I respect so much, has been taking a bit of a Twitter break. Sometimes our souls need a rest from the fray. But I knew she would weigh in on this. I was right.

She tweeted yesterday morning, “It is in this evil world we must stand strong. It is in this madness we must think soundly. It’s amid these dangers our hearts must neither melt nor harden. It’s here and now we who follow Jesus must be brave and bold in love and truth, defending the defenseless and not the indefensible.”

Her words “neither melt nor harden” bore into me. That’s it, isn’t it? The horror of it all threatens to either melt us or harden us, but neither of those is an option. Somehow, we must find a way to live in these times without growing callous to atrocities or be destroyed by them. The only way to do that is by clinging to Jesus and His word.

The Psalmist realized it when he wrote, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging “( Psalm 46:1 -3).

He is our refuge. He is our strength. In the wake of any tragedy.  

This week Christianity Today published a piece by Taylor Schumann, a shooting survivor. She offers powerful advice on how to pray for those affected by these tragedies HERE.
Not melting.

Not becoming hard.

Joining with you in prayer, friends.


Tuesday, July 30, 2019

If you're wondering if the prayers matter and what we found in the sawdust

Jerry recently spent a week preaching at another campmeeting and witnessed a wonderful work of God while there. I visited for a day and was reminded of a story from when our kids were little. I’m hoping some mom who has prayed long will find encouragement from it.

I found the sawdust trail alive and well in a campmeeting in North Georgia when my husband was asked to preach there when our kids were little. Begun in the mid-nineteenth century, it was virtually unchanged from that time with the exception of a few modern kitchen appliances in the tents (small cottages) and electric lights. I was made aware by family members that my father, grandmother, and great-grandmother attended this campmeeting as children. For this reason, as we began our experience, I felt I was claiming something that was mine in some way.

The second year there, we were especially excited. We knew what a wonderful time we had the year before spending a week sleeping between little stalls in wooden tents where you could see through the cracks in the planks. Maybe that doesn’t sound like fun, but it was. My nine-year-old son came especially equipped for major water gun battles but the second night of camp he came home angry. 

Into this Eden had crept a snake. He had an altercation with two fellows a little older than him, which involved name-calling and physical pain. My son was home schooled so in some ways he hadn’t experienced this level of rejection before.

Jerry told him sometimes God allows our feelings to be hurt so we’ll pray for the other person. Still, my son’s plans seemed to be smashed because of this incident and he was destined to days of moping around the tent and playing alone.
But God was at work.

 Wednesday night those same two boys who acted out earlier made their way to the altar after an invitation for salvation. My son was sitting beside me and when he saw them at the altar, he looked up at me with great sincerity and said, “Mama, I prayed they would get saved.” A tear rolled down my cheek as my husband made the invitation for those who would rededicate their lives to Christ, and my son joined the others at the altar. 

The next days were filled with such joy, as these young fellows became frequent visitors at our tent. It was wonderful to see the change God wrought in my own son, as well.
The night we returned home, I had a dream in which I saw my father’s mother, and she was in a kitchen preparing food. In the dream, I looked at my children who were standing beside me and said, “See your great-grandmother has prepared this wonderful meal for you.”

My devotional reading for the next morning just happened to be, “one generation will commend you works to another; they will tell of your mighty acts.” Psalm 145:4
I sensed God saying through the dream and the scripture that in the sawdust of that campmeeting my children discovered a treasure, a treasure left there through the prayers of a great- grandmother they had never known. I sensed God’s wonderful work as I realized she prepared spiritual food for my children through her prayers, which have nourished their souls and my soul, that indeed one generation was commending the mighty acts of God to the next generation. 

Many of you women who are mothers have long prayed for your children and grandchildren. There may be those of you who are wondering if God is hearing because of the circumstances your precious loved ones are in. I pray God would give you a new perspective and in the middle of those difficult situations you would hear God speaking in a fresh way―that you would experience a peace that passes all understanding as you give those situations over to him. In ways we can’t imagine God is bringing about the answers to our prayers not only in this generation but also in the ones to come. 

Could I offer this prayer? Dear Lord, we thank you for your watchful eye over our loved ones, that because you “neither slumber or sleep” we can rest knowing the ones we care for are in your hands. I pray for that wayward child or grandchild that you would bring a harvest in their lives from the seeds sown into their souls by praying mothers, and grandmothers. We remember from your word, “Those that go out weeping carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them" (Psalm 126:6). In Jesus name. Amen.

May we all leave a legacy of prayer that will stand through any earthly circumstance. I pray those who follow us would indeed find themselves standing in a Godly heritage because of mothers who prayed.

Available HERE.


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