Lynn Mosher

Encouraging the Heart~Uplifting the Soul

  • Home
  • Blog
  • About Me
  • Contact Me
  • Privacy and Cookie Policy
  • Free Resources
  • PostsComments

Where’s the wonder? Where’s the joy?

December 20, 2018 By Lynn H Mosher

wonder and joy of star of Bethlehem

wonder and joy of star of Bethlehem

Where’s the wonder? Where’s the joy?

We hear the same story again and again each year from a multitude of people and places.

From sermons, to devotionals, to blog posts. They all attempt a new approach, a different perspective.

But our familiarity with the story can induce indifference if we’re not careful. We’ve heard it so many times that we don’t pay much attention to it any more. We let it go over our heads, not even “in one ear and out the other.” And we lose the wonder of Christmas, the Reason for the season. The joy!

I remember when I was little. I thought I would explode with excitement as I waited for Christmas morning. Yes, when you’re little, it’s all about the gifts.

But when one gets older, what happens to the wonder, the joy? Not for gifts but for the greatest Gift!

Can we borrow that childlike anticipation and wonder, that excitement and joy, for just a moment and wrap ourselves in it?

Then, let’s put ourselves in the midst of the wonder and joy of that most glorious night in all of history.

What is in your heart? Do you share the same wonder and joy as Mary and Joseph?

Maybe the season’s commercialism or a busy schedule or loneliness has drained joy from you. Maybe grief and sadness have stolen it from you.

Actually, it’s still there. You may not feel joy but it’s there, hiding under all those circumstances. The Lord’s Joy. It’s there. And it is your strength. Nehemiah said, “Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” (Neh. 8:10 NASB)

The joy the Lord gives transcends earth’s offerings. That Joy? No man, no heartache, no poverty, no circumstance can truly take it from you. For it’s still there. Just blanketed with circumstances.

Trust that it’s there. Uncover and lift up your joy above your circumstances. A joyful heart is the best weapon against all the negativity of life.

Sometimes, that joy does is not evident, for joy is not always outward exuberance. It may just be a deep knowing, a fulfilled satisfaction, a thankful response to the Lord’s faithfulness.

Your life right now may be toilsome, but joy is your reward. The reward of seeing the Lord in the dull, dark days, of trusting Him when all about you is chaotic.

If you’ve lost your joy, you can find it again this special season. It’s right where you left it.

Oh, to know the wonder of that holy night. To follow the Light, to find the Babe of Bethlehem.

Lord, take me to those fields filled with Your glory. Draw back the black curtain of my night and spill out the glory of Your heaven.

Lead me to that humble manger that I may learn to make my heart a humble manger-place for You. Reveal my life’s emptiness and fill it with the same joy of heaven that filled that night’s air. Guide me always by the Light of Your Life.

Give me willing knees to crouch before You in lowly reverence and awe. Give me listening ears to hear the rush of angels’ wings, to hear their glorious hallelujahs and the holiness of their worship.

Oh, that my heart would always be filled with the glory and wonder of that precious night.*

May your heart be filled with the wonder and joy of this most holy and glorious Christmas…Lynn

*Searching for Bethlehem’s Babe

 

2 Comments

Where’s the Joy of Christmas?

December 13, 2018 By Lynn H Mosher

Where's the Joy of Christmas

Where's the Joy of ChristmasShe sits next to me on the couch.

Her eyes lower and look away.

She droops over as if sandbags drape their weight on her shoulders.

Her hands make a swooshing sound as she rubs them together in distress.

She sighs and whispers to me her sadness over the Christmas season.

No little scampering feet of children. No excitement of expectation. No one to join her in decorating the tree or singing carols or watching Christmas movies.

A mess surrounds her. Boxes of ornaments sit around her Christmas tree. Stacks of garland drape over the chairs by the fireplace. Decorations pile up in the corner.

She says she’s tired. I’ve lost my joy, she whispers. Where’s the simplicity? Where’s the wonder, the magic, of yesteryear? Where’s the sharing? Not all the shopping. Not the comparison decorating. Just the Manger Child birth and the season of giving from the heart.

Tears from a heart of emptiness begin to slide down her cheeks.

I take her timeworn hands in mine, close my eyes, and begin to pray, “Lord, bring some joy into the life of Your precious daughter. Allow her to regain the delight of Jesus’ birth and the meaning of the joy of giving…”

A knock on the door interrupts my prayer.

She wipes her eyes quickly and answers the door. A small neighbor girl stands scarfed in her winter garb and holding out a plateful of cookies in her be-mittened hands.

“Hi, Mrs. A. In case you forgot, my name is Joy. I live two houses down the street with my brother and sister and my mom and dad. I was born on Christmas Eve so my mom called me Joy ‘cause she said I was her Christmas Joy. Oh, these are for you. My mom and I made them for you. We want to share some Christmas joy with you.”

Mrs. A looks down at the plate of cookies and on each one, scribbled in icing, is one word: JOY.

“Oh, and the cookies are from Jesus, too. Merry Christmas joy, Mrs. A.”

About to have an attack of an ugly cry, Mrs. A gushes out with a profuse, “Thank you, sweetie. Thank you, thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough. Bless you, dear one. And tell your mother thank you as well.”

After she closes the door, I can see her standing in the hall, staring down at the plateful of cookies.

As tears puddle in her eyes, she whispers…

Joy. Joy to the world.

Let every heart prepare Him room.
And…let me sing…
Joy to the World, the Savior reigns!
…and repeat the sounding joy…
The…wonders…of…His…love.

large red letters spelling joy

Lord, we pray, bring back the joy that bursts forth from the manger-birth. So many hearts hungering for joy. So many grieving losses. So many with troubled souls from past difficulties, current heartaches, and looking at a future of uncertainties. Prepare their hearts to give You a birthplace. Bring them the peace You came to give hurting hearts. May they know that giving brings joy to a suffering soul. And let us all never forget the greatest reason to celebrate Christmas is the joy of the birth of Christ. Amen!

May the Lord fill your heart with manger-joy this Christmas season!

The blessings of Christmas joy…Lynn

 

***I felt led to repost this story from last Christmas. May it bless all those reading it. ❤

11 Comments

The Spirit’s Fruit of Joy

July 19, 2018 By Lynn H Mosher

fruit grapes

fruit grapes

The Spirit’s fruit of joy.

As it says in Galatians, “The fruit of the Spirit is…joy.” (Gal. 5:22 NKJV) Coaxes wonderful images, doesn’t it?

Like walking along a garden path with luscious trees, overhanging with delectable fruit on each side.

Other paths branch off from this path. One more beautiful than the other.

But looking deeper down one path, the light grew darker and the scenery started to change.

Sometimes our path is overgrown with weeds, over-hanging with vines of thorns. Encroaching on us and impeding our way.

But what do we do? We usually grumble and complain, don’t we? We ask, why me? Or when will this end?

The weeds of life choke out the Holy Spirit’s fruit of joy. And we shrivel up.

But there are those whose spirit clings to the Holy Spirit’s fruits…tenaciously. Despite their current or lasting circumstance.

I am so happy to have an example of this for you today. My friend Linda Yezak is my guest. She has a new book out Ride to the Altar, the last in this book series Circle Bar Ranch. You can keep up with the different posts in her book launch on her site and she has a BIG giveaway. Don’t miss it.

The Spirit’s Fruit of Joy

My eighty-five year old mama took a minute to shove herself up from her chair and waddle the few steps to her super-sized television. With her fingers gripping the lip of the TV cabinet, she balanced herself while she peered at the figure on the screen. Her nose was inches away. She tilted her head this way, then that, until finally she could name the character.

Mom, whose macular degeneration has rendered her legally blind, always tries to connect the voice she hears with the image she can make out on the screen. That day, I asked her what she could see of the blonde, and she said, “Not much. If she ever takes off that bright lipstick, I won’t be able to see her at all.”

She often gets frustrated. Her hand remembers how to write, but her eyes can’t see what she’s written. Wouldn’t be a problem if she could remember things, but she can’t. So she writes notes, hoping I can decipher them. I usually can.

But more often than the frustration, she gets tickled at the tricks her eyes play on her. We watched a football game together once. All she could see of our favorite team were their shoes. Of the other team, only their shirts. When the shoes tackled the shirts, she cheered.

Long ago, God gave her a joyful heart, and she always used it to bring joy to others. Now, despite her multitude of ailments, she’s still a pleasure to be around. She’s a blind, waddling example of the Spirit’s fruit of joy. I hope I’ve learned from her.

 

Linda W. Yezak lives with her husband and their funky feline, PB, in a forest in deep East Texas, where tall tales abound and exaggeration is an art form. She has a deep and abiding love for her Lord, her family, and salted caramel. And coffee—with a caramel creamer. Author of award-winning books and short stories, she didn’t begin writing professionally until she turned fifty. Taking on a new career every half century is a good thing.

You can connect with Linda around the web:

Website: http://lindawyezak.com 
Newsletter: http://dld.bz/CoffeewithLinda
Facebook: Author Page
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/lyezak/ 
Twitter: @LindaYezak
Amazon Page: http://dld.bz/LWYAmazonPage
Goodreads: Linda W Yezak

*You can catch the next blogpost for the book launch here.

 

 

 

Leave a Comment

Lord, remind me…

May 10, 2018 By Lynn H Mosher

woman praying

woman praying

In this ol’ world, there’s so much pain, so much hatred, so much evil. So, when the dark fog of circumstances gathers over me, Lord, remind me that I’m just going through this sunless passageway and that it is not Son-less but filled with the Light of Your Love.

Lord, remind me…

*remind me You are the Living Bread of Life
*remind me You are the Light in my darkest days
**remind me to go through the tunnel and not to stop in the middle
*remind me not to be afraid or discouraged, for You go with me wherever I go

*remind me faith conquers all
*remind me You are always working for me
*remind me that with You, we are a majority
*remind me that, if You are for me, no one can be against me

*remind me Your love is never-ending
*remind me You rejoice over me as Your bride
*remind me that my battle is not mine, but it is Yours
*remind me Your promises are always “yes and amen”

Lord, remind me…

*remind me I am blessed beyond measure
*remind me of Your covenant that binds us together
*remind me Your DNA courses still through every living thing
*remind me this world is still held together through Your Word

*remind me You are enthroned upon the praises of my heart
*remind me You collect my tears for Your bottle of remembrance
*remind me Your comfort is only a whisper away, residing in Your Holy Spirit
*remind me that out of my love for You, I am to care for, love, comfort, and encourage others

*remind me Your favor and mercy pursue me
*remind me You are my safety, my protection
*remind me You are my strength and sufficiency
*remind me Your mercies are new every time the sun comes up

Lord, remind me…

*remind me doubts and worry arrest Your work in my life
*remind me that, as I rest in You, I will find the peace I so long to have
*remind me that as I hunger and thirst in this world, You are my sustenance
*remind me that in my mourning, You will comfort me and bring me joy in You

*remind me that in giving, I receive
*remind me to bring my burdens to You, for You will carry them for me
*remind me to speak positively, to speak Your Word, to sing Your praises
*remind me negative thinking produces negative speech and a negative life

*remind me Your supply stands ready to be given
*remind me that in waiting, my strength is renewed
*remind me You always listen, always hear my prayers
*remind me You are always in control…when I take my hands off

Lord, remind me…

*remind me You are the resurrection Life
*remind me You are always my Shepherd of guidance
*remind me Your forgiveness is always mine when I repent
*remind me that, as I fill myself with trash, I am no longer pure in Your sight

*remind me You are the Way and the Truth
*remind me You share Your wisdom for the asking
*remind me that humility is the greatest characteristic of a servant
*remind me You are the True Vine and I am fruitless if I do not abide in You

*remind me not to be the things You hate
*remind me that things go better as I walk in agreement with You
*remind me I must be still in Your presence in order to hear Your Still Small Voice and to know You
*remind me that the world around me may seem to be in chaos, but the world within me must be kept in harmony with You

Lord, remind me…

*remind me that, if I hate my brothers and sisters, Your love does not abide in me; if I say I love You, I must also love others
*remind me You do answer prayer…in Your own time
*remind me that patience produces strength of character
*remind me in my deepest heartache that You are my healer

*remind me to carry the heartburn of Emmaus
*remind me that the victory of Calvary is mine
*remind me of the intensity of Olivet’s prayers
*remind me of the blessing of Bethlehem’s manger

*remind me You are my joy, my hope, my peace, my advocate, my helper, my comforter, my sustainer, my provider, my counselor, my shield, my mediator, my sacrifice, my best friend!

AMEN!

Blessings of reminders…Lynn

6 Comments

Where’s the Joy of Christmas?

December 4, 2017 By Lynn H Mosher

Where's the Joy of Christmas

Where's the Joy of Christmas

She sits next to me on the couch.

Her eyes lower and look away.

She droops over as if sandbags drape their weight on her shoulders.

Her hands make a swooshing sound as she rubs them together in distress.

She sighs and whispers to me her sadness over the Christmas season.

No little scampering feet of children. No excitement of expectation. No one to join her in decorating the tree or singing carols or watching Christmas movies.

A mess surrounds her. Boxes of ornaments sit around her Christmas tree. Stacks of garland drape over the chairs by the fireplace. Decorations pile up in the corner.

She says she’s tired. I’ve lost my joy, she whispers. Where’s the simplicity? Where’s the wonder, the magic, of yesteryear? Where’s the sharing? Not all the shopping. Not the comparison decorating. Just the Manger Child birth and the season of giving from the heart.

Tears from a heart of emptiness begin to slide down her cheeks.

I take her timeworn hands in mine, close my eyes, and begin to pray, “Lord, bring some joy into the life of Your precious daughter. Allow her to regain the delight of Jesus’ birth and the meaning of the joy of giving…”

A knock on the door interrupts my prayer.

She wipes her eyes quickly and answers the door. A small neighbor girl stands scarfed in her winter garb and holding out a plateful of cookies in her be-mittened hands.

“Hi, Mrs. A. In case you forgot, my name is Joy. I live two houses down the street with my brother and sister and my mom and dad. I was born on Christmas Eve so my mom called me Joy ‘cause she said I was her Christmas Joy. Oh, these are for you. My mom and I made them for you. We want to share some Christmas joy with you.”

Mrs. A looks down at the plate of cookies and on each one, scribbled in icing, is one word: JOY.

“Oh, and the cookies are from Jesus, too. Merry Christmas joy, Mrs. A.”

About to have an attack of an ugly cry, Mrs. A gushes out with a profuse, “Thank you, sweetie. Thank you, thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough. Bless you, dear one. And tell your mother thank you as well.”

After she closes the door, I can see her standing in the hall, staring down at the plateful of cookies.

As tears puddle in her eyes, she whispers…

Joy. Joy to the world.
Let every heart prepare Him room.
And…let me sing…
Joy to the World, the Savior reigns!
…and repeat the sounding joy…
The…wonders…of…His…love.

large red letters spelling joy

~~~

Lord, we pray, bring back the joy that bursts forth from the manger-birth. So many hearts hungering for joy. So many grieving losses. So many with troubled souls from past difficulties, current heartaches, and looking at a future of uncertainties. Prepare their hearts to give You a birthplace. Bring them the peace You came to give hurting hearts. May they know that giving brings joy to a suffering soul. And let us all never forget the greatest reason to celebrate Christmas is the joy of the birth of Christ. Amen!

May the Lord fill your heart with manger-joy this Christmas season!

The blessings of Christmas joy…Lynn

10 Comments

1000th Celebration

March 9, 2017 By Lynn H Mosher

Well, today is my 1000th post on my site! Hard to believe.

I started out as Heading Home on July 20, 2008. Though I still refer to it as that, it’s under my nom de plume. My name is my pen name.

I was going to write something special but my day got too full, so I am sharing one of my favorite stories.

In appreciation to those who read my ponderings, I have a little gift to give away. A $25 gift card. If you read my post and leave a comment on my site or on Facebook under the link (here) and image for this post, I’ll put them all in the pot and draw a name from them.

I wish I could thank all my precious readers with a gift card. But alas, my banker said no. You have no idea how much I appreciate all of you.

Well, I narrowed the posts down to three. I asked the Lord but didn’t get a clear answer. Sooo…I’ve posted one and here are the links to the other two if you’d like to read them.

*In the Presence of the King
*A Storm in Little Valley

So, without further blubbering, here’s one of the three…

The Preacher’s Meadow

Years ago, in horse-and-buggy days, a poor circuit preacher made his weekly rounds to one of his favorite little churches. As he could not afford a horse, he walked several miles to the little, white church in the vale.

On his way through the fertile valley leading to the church, he stopped at his favorite meadow to savor the change of scenery each season displayed.

He enjoyed spring as it burst forth with bluebells, daffodils, Queen Anne’s lace, and other wildflowers that filled the meadow and fall with the beauty of the trees as they boasted of their vibrant reds and golds.

He loved listening to the bubbling stream that ran through the field. He laughed when winter’s snow and ice decked out the trees and shrubs, making them look like some of the icy parishioners in his church.

On each journey to the church, he paused to meditate. Leaning on the old fence surrounding the meadow, he praised the Lord for the beauty of His creation, for the privilege of serving Him, and for all the faithful parishioners filling the little church, always asking for the miracle of a bigger building that would someday hold many others.

One beautiful spring day, he noticed a sign on the property…FOR SALE! He didn’t have long to be curious if someone would buy the property for the next week, a new sign appeared…SOLD!

What will become of my lovely meadow, he thought.

Soon construction began on the site. Disappointment did not begin to cover how he felt. Each week as he walked by, he could see all the progress that had taken place. Trees knocked down; flowers gone. The ground disturbed.

A rumbling started in his spirit. Each week, he grew more annoyed. Mumbling and complaining chipped away at his praise until cynicism threw a dark shadow across his soul. His joy disappeared and he blamed God and even questioned his calling as a preacher.

By the time he reached the little church each week, his spirit reacted so negatively that his sermons suffered and the people noticed the difference.

One Sunday as he walked to church, he became so angry at God for taking away his beautiful praise field and his great joy that he kicked at the fence and broke his foot. Luckily, a parishioner came by in his buggy and took the preacher to the doctor.

He stayed off his foot for several months until it finally healed. The next spring when he was able to resume preaching, the parishioner came to pick him up for Sunday services. When the parishioner arrived, he told the preacher he must do something.

“What is it?” asked the preacher.

“You must wear this blindfold,” said the man.

“What in the world for?”

“You’ll see,” the man answered.

“Humph! How can I see if I’m blindfolded!”

“Don’t worry, preacher. You’ll love it when you see it. I promise!”

The preacher grumbled something else under his breath.

When they finally arrived at their destination, the man removed the blindfold from the preacher’s eyes. As he did, the preacher heard, “Surprise!”

“Wha-a-t? What is this?” He glanced around and saw his entire congregation surrounding him.

“This,” said the man, “is your new church building.”

There, in the middle of his favorite meadow, stood the most beautiful church building he had ever seen. The meadow once again displayed its fragrant wildflowers and the trees in full blossom welcomed him back.

“I…I don’t understand,” said the puzzled preacher.

The man said, “We received a large endowment from an anonymous donor to build you a new church building. Knowing it’s been your heart’s desire and since you broke your foot and couldn’t see what was going on, we thought we’d surprise you.”

As his eyes filled with tears, the preacher fell to his knees, sobbing, “Oh, Lord, forgive me. I blamed You for taking away the very thing that gave me such joy, my beautiful meadow. I lost my praise and even questioned my calling. I had no idea You had planned something even more beautiful than I could have imagined. My cup of joy is now refilled and running over. Praise You, Lord!”

Has joy left your heart? Whether through some trial or heartache? Or maybe something has been taken from you? Has your beautiful meadow of joy and praise been destroyed?

Have you lashed out at God? Have you questioned His dealings in your life? Have you grumbled and complained, questioning your calling?

The Lord has a replacement joy in store for you. Will you thank Him in anticipation of its arrival and for His love and care for you? Will you praise Him again in your beautiful, new meadow of joy?

“I thank my God upon every remembrance of you…
making mention of you always in my prayers.”
Phil. 1:3 NKJV, Philemon 4 NKJV

20 Comments

Her Chaotic Day of Trust

October 24, 2016 By Lynn H Mosher

her-chaotic-day-of-trust-worstveld

“Oww!” Her response after stubbing her toe.

Turning to flip off the bathroom light, she catches the pocket of her waitress uniform on the doorknob. Riiiip!

Oh, great! I don’t have time to change. Oh, well. My apron will cover it. She pats the cross on her necklace. Something that soothes her nerves. Not the object itself, though it belonged to her mother. Just a reminder that her mother taught her to trust in Christ.

In a hurry, she rushes to the kitchen to fix some eggs. Opening the refrigerator door…no eggs! Oh, rats! She grabs the milk. After filling a bowl with cereal, she quickly pours the milk but it comes out in lumps.

“Eeewww! Now I’ll have to go hungry. This is not turning out to be a jump-for-joy day!” She clinches the cross. Trust! she tells herself.

She snatches up her purse and car keys and darts out the front door to her car. Once in the car, she turns the key and steps on the gas.

“It won’t start!” she yells. “Now what?” She grasps the cross on her necklace. Lord, help me. I’m trying to trust you this morning.

She finally gets the car started.

On her way to work, she stops behind a car at a stop sign, and another car slams into the back of her car. Shoving her into the car in front of her.

Now, on the verge of tears, she screams, “God, what next?” She’s so upset that she forgets to clutch her cross.

A policeman friend, who daily visits the restaurant where she works, witnesses the accident and stops to assist everyone. He surveys the wreckage and tells her that her car is too badly damaged to drive and needs to be towed.

She calls a tow service and then, looking at her car, mumbles, “How am I going to get to work? If I still have a job!” Overhearing her muttering, the policeman offers to give her a ride to work.

After getting out of the car in front of the restaurant, she leans in the car window, “Thanks so much for your help. I hope this is the end of all the mishaps today!”

“Wait!” he shouts, trying to stop her from leaving. “Your necklace! Where’s the necklace you wear everyday?”

She grabs at her throat. “My cross! Oh, this is the worst day of my life.” Tears begin to flow.

She walks in the back door of the restaurant and the manager starts yelling at her. Still crying, she explains all the day’s chaos. He calms down and gives her an understanding pat on the shoulder.

The dark cloud of disaster refuses to go away.

She clears away dishes from a customer’s table, but he bumps into her, spilling a full cup of coffee down the front of her uniform, almost burning her. He apologizes profusely.

She reaches for her cross…but it’s not there. Trust anyway, she reminds herself.

Regular customers complain who never complain. Trust! She drops a tray of dishes, breaking them all. Trust! She gets two orders mixed up. Trust!

“What’s wrong with you today?” asks another waitress. “You’re a mess. Are you cursed or something? You need to go home and hide.”

Just then, the busboy walks by and promptly throws up on her new shoes. TRUST! she urges herself.

The manager points at her and yells, “Go home! NOW!”

She begins to sob. As the manager and waitress try to comfort her, she tells them the worst part of this day is that she lost the necklace belonging to her mother.

“I guess I will go home. But I don’t know how.”

Just then, the policeman walks in the door. “You look awful. Looks like things haven’t improved.”

“You won’t believe all that has happened since this morning.”

“Well, maybe I have something that will put some joy in your chaos. Put your hands out.”

“Come on. I’m in no mood for games.”

“Put…your…hands…out. And close your eyes,” he insists.

She does as he says and he places something in her hands.

“Now, open your eyes.”

“My necklace! Where in the world did you find it?”

“The tow truck driver noticed it on the floor of your car and didn’t want anyone to steal it, so he called me.”

She hugged him and sighed. Thank You, Lord!

***

When your day goes kerflooey and the dark clouds of disaster and chaos rest over your head, what do you reach for? What do you tell yourself? Do you trust in the Lord or do you forget?

Put your hands out. Trust the Father to put some joy in your chaos.

Hooking up with…
Soli deo Gloria Sisterhood
Laura Boggess
Purposeful Faith
Words of Life

2 Comments

Her Mourning Turned to Joy

February 25, 2016 By Lynn H Mosher

Her Mourning Turned to Joy 2b

Though spring is in the air and resplendent with the aroma of blossoming new growth, the dead of winter, with its shivering breath of frost, makes its home in the heart of a grieving mother.

This is the second time death has clutched its icy tentacles around a member of her family. The death of her husband caused her to lean upon her only son for support. Now, death has taken her last support away from her. She has no one.

Oh, there are mourners, including friends, but most of them will eventually wander away and leave her as well. But for now, they support the grieving woman with their tears and wails, following behind the open bier.

They have rent their garments and thrown dust in their hair. Musicians play doleful sounds on their flutes as they all make their way up a steep, sloping road on the hill called Little Hermon, which looks out on the Plain of Jezreel. The name of their cozy village, Nain, means green pastures, lovely, beauty, or pleasantness.

Such a dichotomy. A place bursting with beauty and pleasantness, now embraces the ravages of death.

Taking turns carrying the bier out of compassion, the friends and mourners make their way up the rocky hill west of the village that cradles the cave tombs of loved ones.

As the funeral cortege heads for the hill of tombs, a small group meets them coming in the other direction. A quite different group. While the exiting group is led by death, this entering group is led by life, life in the embodiment of Jesus.

Where life and death confront each other head on.

Touched with compassion by the flowing tears of the woman and her mourners, Jesus feels their loss. He stops and says, “Do not weep.” He is not concerned with tradition or the law which would consider Him unclean, so He reaches out to touch the bier and the procession halts.

“Rise up, young man!” He commands.

His words of intense power and healing melt the icy fingers of death and snatch the young man from their grasp. The young man jolts upward and begins to speak. Surely he says Mother!

No faith has been displayed from this woman. No begging God for a miracle of healing. Just an incredible act of loving grace and divine compassion from the Man of God.

Grief and tears are subdued, on hold for a future day. Rejoicing reigns for now with shouts of hallelujah for a life given another chance.

The grieving widow laid aside her garment of grief for a garment of rejoicing. Now, tears of mourning are exchanged for tears of joy.

~~~Do you feel as though you’re climbing a steep, rocky slope headed for a cave of burial? Has your spring of life morphed into a bleak winter circumstance?

* Jesus will call new growth, new life, back into that which has died.
* He will turn those stony hills once again to green pastures, full of beauty and pleasantness.
* He will meet you on your journey of grief as you travel in tears. Always moved with compassion for those who are hurting, He says, “Rise up!”

Whether your hopes have died, your dreams have vanished, your plans have fizzled, your relationships have withered, or whatever has been buried, Jesus walks your way today to raise up your hopes once again.

The Lord said through Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, because the Lord…has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted…to comfort all who mourn…to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (Is. 61:1, 2b, 3a NKJV)

He WILL turn your grieving into shouts of joy!

Her Mourning Turned to Joy

Hooking up with…
Jennifer Dukes Lee
Holley Gerth
Carissa Shaw
The Missional Call
3-D Lessons for Life
Equipping Godly Women
Sandra Heska King’s Still Saturdays

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

4 Comments

I Have a Secret: I Leak at Night!

June 29, 2015 By Lynn H Mosher

I Have a Secret I Leak at NightDid I get your attention? LOL No, not a bladder problem. A spiritual problem. I think my bucket leaks while I’m asleep.

Well, to be honest, I have another secret. I leak during the day even more! I leak through cracks in my foundation, chinks in my armor, rips in my soul, holes in my heart, and gaps in my attitude. And any other rift in my being.

I just plain ol’ run out. So, I MUST refill my tank every morning.

David said, “My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning I will direct it to You, and I will look up.” (Ps. 5:3 NKJV)

God’s morning mercies are new every day; they arrive with the appearance of sunrise. Each day is a fresh start. No carry-overs from the day before. Whatever we have endured in the dark of night, “The Lord’s unfailing love and mercy still continue, fresh as the morning, as sure as the sunrise.” (Lam. 3:22-23 GNT)

Each morning presents us with an empty vessel, waiting to be filled with our words, our thoughts, and our actions. What sets the standard for these is our attitude upon wakening. Each day should start with a positive and grateful heart, for it will affect how we treat our children, our spouses, our friends, our neighbors, and even strangers.

Spending time with the Lord in the morning sets our day on the right course, and we receive His guidance, strength, and comfort to face whatever will come our way for the next 24 hours. David said, “Let me hear of Your unfailing love to me in the morning, for I am trusting You. Show me where to walk, for I have come to You in prayer.” (Ps. 143:8 NLT) (From Morning Mercies)

Every morning is a new day for me to say, “Fill me up with all I need, Lord. I leak!”

When I leak, I get thirsty or hungry. David tells me in another psalm, “For He satisfies the longing soul, and fills the hungry soul with goodness.” (Ps. 107:9 NKJV) And Jesus said it as well, “What happiness there is for you who are now hungry, for you are going to be satisfied!” (Luke 6:21a TLB)

When I leak, I am discontent; when I am filled, I am satisfied. There are numerous verses that mention “being filled” or “being satisfied.” I love what David said in one of his prayers, “I shall be fully satisfied, when I awake [to find myself] beholding Your form [and having sweet communion with You].” (Ps. 17:15b Amp)

Besides prayer, obedience is one of the greatest glues to keep each of us from leaking, so that we may overflow with satisfaction and joy. Jesus said, “When you obey me you are living in my love, just as I obey my Father and live in his love. I have told you this so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your cup of joy will overflow!” (John 15:10-11 TLB)

We may leak, but when we ask Him, the Lord never fails to keep us topped up.

My prayer for you…

“I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely
with joy and peace because you trust in him.
Then you will overflow with confident hope
through the power of the Holy Spirit.”
(Rom. 15:13 NLT)

Hooking up with…
Soli deo Gloria Sisterhood
Laura Boggess
Purposeful Faith
Words of Life

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

11 Comments

There’s a Rock in My Sock!

June 22, 2015 By Lynn H Mosher

There's a Rock in My Sock

Ever get a pebble in your shoe or your sock and think, Now, where did that come from?

I’m a sock person. I wear socks a lot and, every once in a while, I find the tiniest bit of something irritating my foot. I turn my sock inside out, only to find a barely visible piece of grit. I shake out my sock and get rid of it.

Irritations, like pebbles, come in all sizes. We all have them at one time or another. Whether in our socks or in our spirits.

Usually, we struggle not with the big boulders in our life’s path but with the puny pebbles. The boulders we can generally manage. But the pebbles? They end up causing us to stumble, fall, or just be irritated.

They are like little stumbling blocks, little annoyances that get under our skin and in our spirit. They elicit ungracious thoughts that pop out of our heart and mouth that shouldn’t. Or to just stay hidden in our thoughts.

Guess who just loves to initiate those pebble attacks? The enemy. His vexations can come out of nowhere, like…

*someone has an opposing opinion of your beliefs and unloads a barrage of venomous words about it
*someone pulls out in front of you while driving and lets you know it’s your fault
*your kids aren’t playing nicely together
*you drop half your lunch on the floor
*the water company overcharges you
*odd habits of your spouse

Or maybe it’s one of these…

*fear of failure
*fear of not being good enough
*fear of rejection
*doubt or worry

Even the smallest grit can get in our spirit and irritate us.

Irritations will boot joy and praise right out the front door. And the enemy’s laughter will be almost audible. He hates our joy and praise. He gets a kick out of upsetting us, tripping us over little things. He relishes knocking “us down with a straw…Most of us manage better in our great struggles than we do in our minor ones.” (A.B. Simpson)

We have a choice. If we harbor those pebbles of irritation, we do not have a clear conscience before God. Paul said, “I myself always strive to have a conscience without offense toward God and men.” (Acts 24:16 NKJV) By definition, an offense is a stumblingblock.

However, to counteract those stumblingblocks, we can choose joy and praise, which will ring the enemy’s death-knell.

What do we do with those irritants? We can turn them into pearls! Yes, pearls of praise.

A natural pearl forms when a foreign substance slips in between the oyster’s mantle and the shell. It begins to irritate the mantle. The oyster’s natural reaction is to protect itself from a foreign substance. The man¬tle covers the irritant with layers of the same substance used to create the shell. And eventually, it forms a pearl.

So, next time your socks get full of irritating grit and you wonder, Where did that come from, turn those irritations inside out and get rid of them. Protect yourself from the enemy’s irritants by using praise. Oysterize that grit into pearls of praise!

The worst sound in the ears of the enemy is praise from the lips of one of God’s children. The enemy hates it. Praise gets the attention of both God and the enemy!

May you protect yourself from the enemy’s gritty irritants by transforming them into pearls of praise!

***This post first appeared as There’s a Rock in My Shoe 6/20/13.

Hooking up with…
Soli deo Gloria Sisterhood
Laura Boggess
Purposeful Faith
Words of Life

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

12 Comments

Next Page »

Welcome to my little cubby hole on the internet. So glad to have you visit! My door is always open. Make yourself at home.

...writing to encourage others on their journey Home!

Privacy and Cookie Policy

Social connections

  • Facebook
  • Google+
  • Instagram
  • LinkedIn
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

A free study of the book of Ruth…

woman picking wheat

February Ruby Magazine

February Ruby Magazine

.

Ruby for Women

Ruby for Women

Partnering with Bible Gateway

Partnering with Bible Gateway

A part of…

Nonfiction Authors Association

Nonfiction Authors Association

Find it here…

Archives

Website Malware Scan

Honored to have been a part of these great projects…

Books:

My Encounter with Billy Graham Christmas Hearts
Additional Christmas Moments
Granola Bar Devotionals
Encountering the God of Wholeness
Ya Know What I’m Say’n
Facing Our Fears: 31 Stories from M.O.M. (available for free download http://www.themominitiative.com/free-ebooks/ Getting It Together: 31 Days to a More Together You (available as above)
Overwhelmed: 31 Stories from M.O.M. (available as above)
He’s Still Working Miracles: Daring To Ask God for the Impossible

Columnist/guest for these magazines (also online):

Ruby Magazine, Secret Place, Comfort Café, Internet Café, Novel Rocket, High Calling, AuthorCulture, Exemplify and Wordsmith Journal (both out of print)

And these sites:

1LightforGod
At the Well
Christian Books for Women
CrossReads
Daily Signs of Hope
GEM Ministries
Grace and Faith 4 U
Granola Bar Devotionals
Inner Fulfillment
JournEzine
JOYful Home and Life
Lift Up Your Day
Living Better at 50+
Network of Christian Women Bloggers
Power to Change/TheLife.com/Truth Media
RachaelCarman.com
Sanctified Together
Take Root and Write
The Consilium
The M.O.M. Initiative
Weused2bu.com

Google translate

Notices

FTC notice...

PRIVACY AND COOKIE POLICY

· Copyright © 2008-2019 lynnmosher.com Lynn Mosher Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all of the contents in any form, including downloadable files, from this website, without the permission of the copyright owner is prohibited. · Log in
←
We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue to use this site we will assume that you are happy with it.Ok