Special Delivery

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His clear baritone cut through the icy air. Jingle bells! Jingle bells! He pulled up to the curb, pulled two packages from his truck, made the delivery, and was back in his seat and on key within three minutes. Jingle all the way! Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh! Hey!

He turned the corner, checked his delivery list, and glanced at the clock. Just maybe he’d be home at a decent hour tonight. He couldn’t bet on anything, but it looked like maybe. He mentally crossed his fingers. T’was the season.

He’d be blasted if it silenced his music! Jingle bells! Jingle bells! Jingle all the way! He pulled up. There it was. His second to last delivery. He was out and back in two. He looked down to ascertain the final address. Rats. It was that one: the one that was always the dickens to find! He’d think he’d located it, then the house was two blocks down. Or down an alley and behind a tall hedge. It was almost as if it moved, and the trick was on him.

To be honest, one time the delay caused by the troublesome address had kept him from an accident on the way home. He’d ‘ve been on 94 at the very spot for sure had he not spent the extra twenty minutes driving around like a lunatic looking for the house. That night he had sat in backed-up traffic for more than an hour; but when he’d witnessed the scene he thanked his lucky stars time spent looking for the stupid house and waiting in the line of traffic was the worst he’d experienced. Oh! And there was another time he’d happened on a stray dog due to hunting for the house. The dog looked pretty rough – like he’d been in the elements for awhile. He’d gained weight with good food and eventually had a jaunty trot. The delivery man named him Bowser. He was no doubt snoozing on the chair he wasn’t supposed to sit on this very minute.

He hummed as he turned on his GPS. He usually didn’t have much time for it. It took him indirectly to where he needed to go and the woman’s voice was as irritating as heck. But maybe he could find the mysterious address with less trouble this one night. Oh what fun it is to ride in a . . . 

SCREECH! The old woman appeared out of nowhere. He slammed on the breaks, just barely avoiding hitting her. It mattered little. She’d been startled and fell to the ground anyway. Probably slipped on the ice. He pulled his delivery truck to the side of the road and hurried to help her up. Her moaning wasn’t a good sign.

“My back. Ohhh my back.” She looked up at him as he squatted beside her.

“Is anything else hurt, Ma’am?” How he wished he’d been a minute later or a minute sooner!

She struggled to raise herself.

“I’m so sorry. Let me call for help.”

“It’s not your fault. Just give me a minute. I hate to think of an ambulance bill.”

He stayed with her then. And they talked of Christmases past and present, how her back had bothered her for years, and how she knew better than to venture out so late. He placed his rough hand gently on her back and nodded sympathetically. Her face grew curious and his hand grew exceedingly warm.

“Leave it there. It feels like, like, I don’t know.”

His hand tingled and he felt heat radiating from it. What a strange encounter! Then, suddenly, his hand returned to its normal temperature. Her face aglow, she jumped up with no trouble at all.

“My back! My back feels like I’m 20 again! Are you an angel?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, Ma’am. I’m a . . . I’m a . . .” He searched his brain for something. “I’m a Christian.”

He didn’t know what to make of it.

“A healer then?”

“No, Ma’am. I don’t do anything special. I just deliver packages.”

“Well you delivered a stunner tonight! Let me pay you!”

He backed away. “No, Ma’am. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Alright? I’ve lived with back pain for fifteen years! Fifteen! Let me do something for you. Anything.”

He looked at his watch, then his truck. All hope of getting home at a decent hour had fled. His route would take another thirty minutes for sure. “Could you tell me how to get to this address?” With little hope he held it out to her.

She glanced at it and laughed – a sweet, tinkling laugh. She turned, then reveling in the motion, twirled around, and pointed. “It’s straight ahead.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

She started down the street with a hop and, of all things, a skip. And the delivery man turned the key as his truck roared to life. One. Horse. O-pen. Sleigh!!!

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Tea With Honey

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She’d switched out her morning cup of coffee for tea – tea with raw honey – otherwise it was too bitter, and bitterness was something she was trying to avoid. That and, of course, fear. Who hadn’t felt at least a tinge of fear these days?

She tucked her long legs under her as she settled into her favorite chair, a soft yellow armchair with a crisscross pattern in forest green. It didn’t feel like a chair, but like a pillow with just the right amount of firmness.

She stared into space and thought of current events. For one thing, the vaccine that had everyone disagreeing with everyone else worried her. She’d done all the right things. But now she wondered if she and half the population had been led out of the frying pan and into the fire, and also wondered if there was a way to jump out of the fire and back into the frying pan.

She sipped her tea. Another? Was her DNA really being damaged by toxins from food and water, medicine, and even clouds (of all things) in the sky? Had her body been biologically altered without her knowledge somehow? And what was that article she’d read while waiting at her auto mechanic for an oil change? Could that cutesy test she’d taken three years ago to find out her exact lineage actually allow some bad actor to create a genome-specific pathogen leading to ethnic cleansing? Hers?

The flicker of candlelight in the window caught her eye. The flame was battery-powered, but it was easier and almost the same.

What about those poor people she’d read about: the ones who were being trafficked? Enslaved, more like. Or worse. It turned her stomach, and she’d rather not think about it. Was it really possible there were so many? Was she supposed to do something about it and, if so, what?

Border trouble went without saying, and the people who struggled with drug use were more vulnerable than ever. She glanced across the street at her neighbor’s house.

Politics and fraudulent elections tracked through her thoughts. Scrunching her eyes shut, she opened them again.

Weather events seemed to be happening so often now. Had it always been this way and she’d just not known of it until fast-access media?

And China. And Russia. And the Middle East.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. In the past few years, fear had become more of a millstone than a warning. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Fear was a tool, not a tyrant.

And it was Christmastime. Three days before Christmas, to be exact. It was the time of carols and cards, cookies and twinkly lights and poinsettias. She wanted it all and had none. She’d need a miracle to find her Christmas spirit this year!

Determinedly, she opened her Bible and read. She might as well start at the beginning. Hmm. Things weren’t exactly red bows and wrapping paper that first Christmas. Why were the three kings included in the story everybody knew and not the bad one: the one who arranged for little boys 2 years old and under to be killed? She wished genocide didn’t sound so familiar. And as she read, everything else she witnessed each day was somehow in the pages of scripture. Border trouble? Nehemiah. Weather events? God used signs in the sky all the time! Revelation didn’t talk of a Christmas star, but promised oh so many other signs. So did Matthew. So did Joel. Even her concerns about DNA were there on the thin pages. The very first thing written was that she was made in God’s image. The God above all gods was imprinted in her. In her! How kind of Him.

She drained her cup. The most honey was at the bottom, she thought with a wry smile. As she continued to read, two words jumped from the page. She should have known. If not today, tomorrow; and if not tomorrow, eventually. Eventually everything would be okay. Better than okay! It would be more merry and bright than she’d ever imagined! Satan didn’t have the last word. Jesus did! She got up and poured another cup of tea. With Honey.

Articles and videos: https://youtu.be/1B-L_wfbhXc Project Veritas: HHS Whistleblower Says Government Complicit in Trafficking; Child Admits Being ‘Pimped’ by Sponsor; https://rumble.com/v1xqj6a-lara-logan-on-balenciaga-scandal-and-child-trafficking-more-broadly.html; https://youtu.be/OGlpLZEekeQ Glenn Beck: Balanciaga’s DARKNESS goes WAY FURTHER than teddy bears; https://rumble.com/v1y6yxw-p-a-r-a-s-i-t-e-s-..html; https://www.foxnews.com/us/fentanyl-crisis-continues-to-ravage-us-communities-border-drug-trafficking-hits-new-records-memo; https://youtu.be/c0cGOuSuIt0 Dr. John Campbell: Excess deaths, mixed news, lack of data; https://substack.com/profile/40661664-steve-kirsch; https://www.stewpeters.com/video/2022/11/live-world-premiere-died-suddenly/;  https://youtu.be/E7-6rG1Rz9U Man in America: Will China’s Mass Protests COLLAPSE the CCP?; https://www.neurocienciasdrnasser.com/post/could-mrna-vaccines-permanently-alter-dna-recent-science-suggests-they-might; https://stream.org/can-mrna-vaccines-alter-human-dna-new-study-blows-debate-wide-open/; https://www.medicaldaily.com/can-mra-vaccine-change-dna-459011; https://allianceforscience.cornell.edu/blog/2020/12/yes-some-covid-vaccines-use-genetic-engineering-get-over-it/; https://t.me/PepeMatter/13250; https://t.me/team1anons/18089; https://www.youtube.com/@RyanHallYall; https://www.youtube.com/@dutchsinse; Matthew 2:16; Nehemiah; Colossians 1:13; Genesis 1:27;  https://youtu.be/_J6yeIxKmJ4; Revelation 6; Isaiah 41:10; II Timothy 1:7; John 14:27; Luke 1:30; Luke 2:10-11; Image: pexels-varvara-galvas-8850651.jpg; candle-in-window-lecoffreauimages.centerblog.net_.jpg

Wider and Deeper

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Dear Heavenly Father,

We most often think of things we see and events we experience when we give thanks. Well-loved places and people come to mind when we list our gratefulness. But, Father, our thankfulness must be wider and deeper, for beyond all of these are the invisible things from Your hand. Your love, of course. Yet more: Grace, Patience, Forgiveness, Discipline, Comfort, and Mercy.

We thank you for revealing evil to us so that we can see good more clearly. Thank you for pricking our conscience so that we can kneel in repentance. It’s not a punishment. It’s a gift. Thank you for teaching us courage. Thank you for the sense of Your Holiness in moments of quiet. Your patience is beyond our understanding. Your mercy – wider and deeper than we can grasp.

You never fail. You are faithful always. And, our dearest God, this day we are grateful for You in all of Your perfection and beauty. We give this day and all days to You, for You and You alone deserve all praise.

In Jesus’ Name

Amen

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Words To Stand By

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. . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. – Abraham Lincoln, November, 1863

After it all . . .

President Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863

Doorkeeper: You Hold the Keys

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For better is one day in Your courts than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.

Fellow doorkeepers: Would you rather do something else? Be the vice president? Now that would be important, wouldn’t it? Too much? Maybe you’d rather move “up” by smaller degrees – to the mailroom, for instance. Let me remind you that “important” is simply in the eye of the beholder. It has to do with what is needed at the moment. So don’t be so hasty. Remember, remember something important: The doorkeeper carries the keys. He unlocks and locks the doors!

And I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

Can you think of anything just about now that needs shutting out or opening up? I thought so. It’s time to unhitch those keys from your beltloop and get busy!

Psalm 84:10; Matthew 16:19

What He Said

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Adam and Eve were given just a few instructions: Take care of the garden, name the animals, and don’t eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. They fell for a lie – a clever twist of the meaning of God’s instructions (something to the effect “Did He really say that?”) – and ended up restricted from the paradise they had enjoyed.

When the Israelites were rescued from slavery in Egypt, they – well, I don’t know if all of them did, but many of them anyway – followed Moses out of Egypt until they found themselves at the shores of the Red Sea. I imagine them running around, craning their necks, yelling, crying, shrieking – well, you get the picture. They were not happy. Perhaps they thought the great escape would be lined with flowers. But they walked through the sea on dry land and God used the sea to battle the Egyptian army for them. Did you note that? They had to walk. And later on they had to battle for the Promised Land. They didn’t expect that, either. In fact, a whole generation (whose faith was sadly lacking despite the Red Sea experience and was unwilling to fight heart and soul) died in order for the youngsters who had been toughened by desert living to do the work. The land wasn’t wrapped in a bow. They had to go after it.

When the Hebrews were ruled over in Babylon, they were facing genocide at the behest of Haman, the Amalekite. Esther – and might I say she was courageous in more than one instance and deserves to have an entire book named after her – made known to the king that she was one of the hated Jews Haman wanted to destroy. Upon learning this, the king set forth an edict allowing the Jews to fight for themselves, resulting in life for them and death for Haman. They were given a chance, and they took it. They fought back.

We’re not that different, you know. Many folks expect God to do all the work. We might think to ourselves, “I can’t do anything to change this mess.” “Wait a minute. You mean I’m supposed to do something about this?!” “What do you mean I’m supposed to do this? I don’t even know how!” “Just leave me alone and let me escape with Netflix.” Maybe we’re figuratively running around, craning our necks, yelling, crying, shrieking – you get the picture. I hate to break it to you, but that wasn’t the way God set things up.

Do you notice the common thread? People are expected to take care of the garden. They’re expected to nourish and prune. They’re expected to defend. Action is not only expected, but required. God meant what He said. He always does. Any questions?

Image: marek-studzinski-3D6yReT06p0-unsplash-1.jpg; parting_red_sea-apha-141121.jpg; lion-pexels-alexas-fotos-2220336.jpg; Scripture: Genesis 2-3; Exodus 12-14; Esther; Ecclesiastes 9:10

The Precipice

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A precipice is something that is very steep – the edge of a cliff, for instance. If you think very much about it, it can make your feet feel the way they feel when you’re about to fall from a bridge – not that most of us would venture close to the edge of such a thing. Some people use the expression cold feet, but it is oh so much more.

Our nation is in such a position tonight. Actually, it has been there for more than one night. We’ve had a taste of the misfortune some other countries have experienced for years. It’s what happens when you order a president by mail. It’s unfortunate that the workers in the warehouse sent what was available or what they thought you should have rather than what you asked for.

What we need is a safety net – something to catch us so we don’t end up splat flat dead at the bottom of the cliff. God has a lot of specialties. Safety nets are one. Not that we deserve it. We don’t. But He gave us a way to call for one.

If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.

Before we vote, I suggest we make that call.

Image: pexels-joagbriel-1753922.jpg; scripture: II Chronicles 7:14

Within Those Quiet Times

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We seek within those quiet times

That still, small voice Who speaks into

Confusion, doubt, and things that bind

Re-aligning noise with truth.

And holds a dream that held us close

Not ours, but His, once we can hear

Mid days of struggle, nights of hope;

And pulls us close in comfort’s sphere.

For minds interpret what eyes see

Less of what goodness impedes;

To lead and guide and help us be

More of what creation needs.

Image: lake-at-sunset-pexels-photo-248800.jpeg; A-gate-to-a-Park-or-Garden-Stevens-Coolidge-Place-Andover-Massachusetts.-BNU-Free-Documentation-License-Wikimedia-Commons.jpg; Original poems by Connie Pease, myfiresidechat.com

Because I Took A Walk

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It happened because I took a walk. I love taking walks. Okay, not all of the time. On days when the pavement is slick with ice and snow and I have to watch my step more than the surrounding scenery, I’d rather stay inside with a cup of cocoa and read. No, not newspapers. I used to like to do that, and did so every day. But, well, no comment other than to say I cancelled my subscription. Too bad. I really did like to read it – except the middle of the business section with all the letters and numbers that I didn’t quite follow. Not that. But the rest of it. But not now. Now I can’t even make a cup of cocoa. But I’ll get to that in a minute.

Today, however . . . today the temperature could be best described as balmy. Balmy! That’s not easy to find near the close of October, but it was today. Though many had fallen, some leaves still clung for their beautiful red, orange, and yellow lives to the branches. You had to admire their will to live. And the sky was a faint blue: the color of my grandma’s eyes after her cataract surgery.

I waved to my neighbor, Merl, as I started out. He sat on his porch nearly every day and just watched. I don’t really know what he watched, but he seemed to find enough to interest him. Maybe he saw more than the average person. Who knows. He waved back as he took a sip of his lemonade.

I needed this. Our town’s water system was low, and we were on a strict limit – even to drink. Weather pundits claimed we’d been in a year-long drought. Unlike some fortunate souls who lived out of town, I had no cistern. The whole situation made me not only thirsty, but more than a little grumpy.

I’d passed the local grocery store (there was a line inside, each customer holding a 12 pack of Dasani or one of its poorer cousins), and was approaching the church on the corner, when the largest raven I’ve ever seen swooped so close I automatically ducked. In fact, I dived so low, my hands slammed on the pavement and I skinned the palm of one hand. As I brushed myself off, and was deciding whether to turn home or continue on, I noticed a small envelope on the ground just where the raven had flown so low.

I retrieved it and opened the flap. Inside was a crude map and one word: Walk. My eyebrows shot up and I thought, Well that decides that. I followed the trail as far as I could understand from the crudely drawn map. I glanced up at the sky. Still faint blue with no cloud in sight.

I came to the edge of a stream. It was nothing remarkable, burrowing a shallow channel, often more of a muddy trail than legitimate stream depending on the amount of rain. That was probably why hardly anyone ever paid attention to it.

That is where the map ended. I was more than a little puzzled and looked around. What had I been thinking? An envelope dropped by a raven was certainly nothing to waste my day over, was it? But I had. And by now it was no longer balmy. I was getting chilled. To the bone. It no longer felt like the close of October, but instead, the edge of November. I scolded myself as I pulled my thin sweater close and started home.

As I walked, I pondered over the events of my day. My mind wandered over the non-descript scene the map had led me to. With a start I stopped, then turned and hurried back to the stream.

Sometimes it’s the things we don’t see that are the very thing we need to notice. My mind and memory finally saw what my blind eyes had missed. The stream that was more of a muddy trail held a treasure greater than gold!

How can a stream be muddy in a drought? I dug until my fingernails were caked with mud, and there it was: An underground spring, small and beautiful!

The next day, though it was chilly, I decided to sit on my porch and just watch for awhile. I looked over and raised my cup of cocoa to Merl as he raised his glass to mine.

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Psalm 37:10-11

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