Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, 2012. Today, being Saturday, our son, Chuck, did his usual thing for Easter. He brought me and his sister, Marie, each a large pot of flowers. He spends his Easter with Betty, his wife. Perhaps they will go to one of her children's houses for Easter dinner. I don't know if they will attend Easter services or not. Marie and Tom, Charles and I, will attend the first service at 8:08 a.m. in Mountain Christian Church. I know it will be an enlightening service. I always look forward to services to see what Pastor Ben has planned for us this year. He makes the services interesting. Then afterwards, we will go home until noon, when we will then go to Marie and Tom's house for our Easter dinner. I always love going to her house because I enjoy her company so much. She's a great cook and has so many interesting things to do and look at in her beautiful home. I'm so proud of her for the way she embraces life. She is kind, considerate and loving toward everyone. God answered all my prayers when He gave her to us.
It is my prayer this year that God will bless all the members of our family, wherever they are. I wish the best for each member and hope they embrace the love of our great God, Jehovah and His Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Now, I also ask blessings on all my writer friends in Mountain Christian Church who have helped me so much in my quest of writing God's Word.
I ask blessings also on all of our service men who place themselves in danger every day to protect our right to freedom. I pray they all come home safely to their own families who are missing them this Easter. And last, but hardly least, I ask prayer and blessings on our great country of the United States of America. May the government (Bibically expressed mountains) bow before our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, before it is too late. May we all, Americans, pray as one and acknowlege God and ask His blessings on us once again. In so doing, He will bless our nation as he has done in the past. He will be our God and we will be His children, as it was meant to be. Amen.
God bless each one of you as you read this. Have a wonderful, safe, loving Easter, 2012.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Death to Life
You do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. 1 Thessalonians 4:13b-14 (NIV)
I stood by her bed, watching the labored breathing, her upper body moving lightly in rhythm with her breath. I gently wiped the froth that came up from her tortured lungs as her heart struggled to pump oxygen through her blood. She reminded me of a freight train straining up a mountain side, chugging hard, sending up black smoke into the clouds.
One more gaping breath and the heart stilled forever. Her skin took on a yellow-grey pallor, no pink at all. This was what death looked like as it claimed my mother's precious life.
Numbness gripped my heart. God helped me to force back the tears and steel myself to do what was necessary. My time with grief would come, but not now. Kissing her cold face, I told her I loved her one last time.
Jesus comforted me then with hope. He reminded me that I would see her again. She was alive--with Him--as He had planned from the beginning.
I imagined her wonderful reception at the gates of heaven, walking into he outstretched arms of Jesus. Behind Him stood her own mother, Ella Mae, who died when she was three. She had always longed to see her mother's face, but there had been no pictures of her. Her father, four sisters, and three brothers greeted her, smiles on their faces, arms open in welcome. Mourning had just turned to joy! At last, Mother was Home.
Father, may we have the hope of a glorious reunion as we go through this life and head toward heaven's door.
(c) 2012 Evelyn B. Ryan
I stood by her bed, watching the labored breathing, her upper body moving lightly in rhythm with her breath. I gently wiped the froth that came up from her tortured lungs as her heart struggled to pump oxygen through her blood. She reminded me of a freight train straining up a mountain side, chugging hard, sending up black smoke into the clouds.
One more gaping breath and the heart stilled forever. Her skin took on a yellow-grey pallor, no pink at all. This was what death looked like as it claimed my mother's precious life.
Numbness gripped my heart. God helped me to force back the tears and steel myself to do what was necessary. My time with grief would come, but not now. Kissing her cold face, I told her I loved her one last time.
Jesus comforted me then with hope. He reminded me that I would see her again. She was alive--with Him--as He had planned from the beginning.
I imagined her wonderful reception at the gates of heaven, walking into he outstretched arms of Jesus. Behind Him stood her own mother, Ella Mae, who died when she was three. She had always longed to see her mother's face, but there had been no pictures of her. Her father, four sisters, and three brothers greeted her, smiles on their faces, arms open in welcome. Mourning had just turned to joy! At last, Mother was Home.
Father, may we have the hope of a glorious reunion as we go through this life and head toward heaven's door.
(c) 2012 Evelyn B. Ryan
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