Tag: Christian

Isn’t it ironic?

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on Isn’t it ironic?

It was just under three years ago that God’s favor rested upon me. He brought me into a land (my hometown), of which I was desperate to possess for years and years. I likened my time away to the Israelite’s years of wilderness wandering. I fancied that surely I must have felt similar to them as they anxiously awaited that glorious day… the day when God would usher them into their promised land. And it did happen… for them and for me.

For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams of water, springs, and deep water sources, flowing in both valleys and hills; a land of wheat, barley, vines, figs, and pomegranates; a land of olive oil and honey; a land where you will eat food without shortage, where you will lack nothing; a land whose rocks are iron and from whose hills you will mine copper.” Deuteronomy 8:7-9

Today, my heart is stirred by this passage of Scripture on more levels than I can describe. Because it speaks of the promised land… a land that I always considered my home. And when I ponder how God moved me from there to here, I now see it’s been more of a spiritual move than anything. Because my relationship with Him has utterly changed since coming back. And it’s through these last few days that my undivided attention has been on His spiritual food and drink. So when I stumbled across the above passage, it nearly leapt of the pages of my Bible. I knew I wanted to use it in a blog because of references to plentiful food and water. But, the funny thing is – or shall I say the ironic part is – I didn’t plan on using last line! Because rocks of iron didn’t flow with what I had been feeling and thinking. But my eyes have been opened… And today, it’s specifically the last part I am captivated by.

This morning, I looked up irony and was surprised by the definition I found. I·ron·y 2  adjective – consisting of, containing, or resembling the metal iron: an irony color. What? I had never heard of that, and it’s not at all what I expected to find. And so, this new definition immediately brought Deuteronomy 8 to mind… because I remembered… I thought, “rocks of iron.” And so, I saw the truth. Because since returning to my promised land, irony is exactly what I have been mining. Honestly, I have been chipping away at a massive boulder of iron since day one. Because I am here in this land of plenty, and yet, I am not tapping into what’s good and abundant. See, my eyes have been closed. How ironic…

Irony is having your deepest, heartfelt prayer request answered, but upon entrance to your promised land finding yourself in a place you never, ever would have imagined… the deepest of pits. Irony is being delivered to the place you always wanted to return to; however, rather than a heart filled with joy, you find a heart full of bitterness. Irony is that on the heels of God’s goodness, you find yourself further away from God than ever. And irony is finding a home that you just had to have, and yet, there were issues with the well. There were problems with the water source. See, the water was dirty. Oh, there was plenty of it… only it was filled with bacteria. And perhaps what I thought was a coppery hue was in fact irony. Because it is so very ironic that at that time, I had unlimited access to clean, living water… only, I was completely overcome by anxiety and worry over an earthly well. I didn’t have faith in God, rather, I placed all my trust in a bank, and man-made methods, and UV lights, forsaking the One who brought me into the promised land to begin with. Irony is that I was torn up over a well, of all things, and the foul water that housed it… when there were streams of living water directly in front of my eyes. I just couldn’t see it. And so, instead of digging for living water, I mined for iron. And the deeper I dug, the wider the pit became in which I dwelt. Down, down I went as the troubles and worries heaped higher and higher.  Yes, irony is that upon entrance to your promised land you find yourself in the driest of deserts.

Cursed is the man who trusts in mankind, who makes human flesh his strength and turns his heart from the LORD. He will be like a juniper in the Arabah; he cannot see when good comes but dwells in the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land where no one lives. Jeremiah 17:5-6

Today, I looked up the definition of well. You know, the place where you expect to find water. And once again, irony abounds. Because according to Strong’s concordance, there are two meanings. One being, a shaft in the ground for extraction of water. And two, a pit, a depression in the earth with no focus on water. How funny is it that the house I wanted to buy within the borders of my hometown had a well full of dirty water… and how very ironic that I was so engrossed by the water shaft in the ground that I ended up falling into the deepest of pits – a depression – and I had no focus on the living water that could have lifted me out.

I bet Hagar could taste the irony that surrounded her. Do you remember her story? She was the servant by whom Abraham fathered a child. See, Sarah was tired of waiting on God for a child, so she manipulated His plan according to her time table. Sarah offered her maidservant to Abraham, and when Hagar actually conceived (which Sarah wanted), she became embittered. See, Hagar was able to do what she had not. And then, Sarah began to mistreat Hagar for the very thing she wanted her to do in the first place! Ironic, huh? Hagar ran away, but encountered the living God through her desert wandering. And by a spring of water, of all places. God sent her back, but eventually Sarah had her own child. Because things became worse, and Sarah commanded it, Hagar had to leave once again.

Abraham sent Hagar and her son away, but with provisions… a waterskin filled with water. They wandered through Beer-sheba, but inevitably, the water ran dry. And this time… Hagar didn’t see a spring of water. This time, she had no hope. And so, the child lay under a tree dying, and Hagar walked off a distance and wept. And then, when things looked the bleakest, an angel spoke to Hagar. He said, “What’s wrong, Hagar? Don’t be afraid, for God has heard the voice of the boy from the place where he is. Get up, help the boy up, and sustain him, for I will make him a great nation.” Genesis 21:17-18. And that’s when it happened… God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. Do you see? The water was there all along… Hagar just couldn’t see it. Her problems had grown so high, that’s all she could see. Because Hagar was dwelling in a pit of despair, she was blinded to what lie directly before her. And when the scales fell away, she finally saw hope. Because she was in Beer-sheba, which means seven wells. How ironic that Hagar journeyed through the land of seven wells, but couldn’t one of them.

Yes, it’s true that living water is available to us all. But here’s another truth… we must first see! Because living water, like H20, can surely run dry. We have to do our part… we must get up and sustain ourselves with it. Like Hagar did. As the old saying goes, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t force it to drink. Same thing with us, spiritually speaking. We can be led to the edge of His live-giving river, but only we can take that first sip. What irony abounds in our lives… how ironic that we can be surrounded by God’s living water, and yet find ourselves dying of thirst. May it not be so.

May we refuse to remain in a dry land, and may we open our eyes to see! May we ever dig deep, tapping into the life-sustaining water that runs within us. And when we find it, may we gulp it down…

Again he measured off a third of a mile, and it was a river that I could not cross on foot. He asked me, “Do you see this, son of man?” Then he led me back to the bank of the river. When I had returned, I saw a very large number of trees along both sides of the riverbank. He said to me, “This water flows out to the eastern region and goes down to the Arabah. When it enters the sea, the sea of foul water, the water becomes fresh. Every kind of living creature that swarms will live wherever the river flows, and there will be a huge number of fish because this water goes there. Since the water will become fresh, there will be life everywhere the river goes. Ezekiel 47:5-9

Come…

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on Come…

5000

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, because they will be filled. Matthew 5:6

My son and I just read about Noah and the ark. We talked about how the floodwaters surged on the face of the earth for 150 days, and how the ark finally came to rest atop a mountain. Eventually, the waters began to recede. And after 40 days, Noah opened the window of the ark to send out a raven… and the rest is history.

After the story, I asked my son how he would have felt being surrounded by all those animals in an ark for so long. And his answer took me by surprise. That’s because he said, “Hungry and thirsty.” What?? This is not at all what I expected, and so I asked him why he said what he did. And he answered, logically, “Well, 40 days and 40 nights…”

And quite rightly. Because after forty days without food and water, I, too, would be hungry and thirsty. My son seemed to have overlooked how long Noah was really aboard that ship, though… and obviously, we neglected to discuss food rations.

At any rate, I was stunned by my son’s reply. Because earlier this morning, I just thought about his early years. I smiled as I reminisced, picturing my son on his throne (otherwise called the couch), and how he used to make his demands. He would cry out, “Hungry! Thirsty!” And until I realized how very wrong it was, I used to jump at his every command, supplying him with food and drink as quickly as possible.

Eventually, I figured out I needed to teach my boy some manners, and how one should politely ask for food and water. But, for a time that’s just what I did… he would yell, “Hungry!” or “Thirsty!” and I would fulfill his need.

I find it amazing that this is where his little mind took him this morning. For in contemplating what life must have been like on that ark, he did not hone in on it being fearful, or dark, or scary, or perhaps exhilarating and exciting. No, it was physical needs that spoke to my son. And that makes me think of Jesus, who also had physical needs.

Before Jesus began His earthly ministry, He fasted for 40 days and 40 nights. And afterward, quite rightly, He was hungry. That’s when the tempter approached Him and said, “If You are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” But He answered, “It is written: Man must not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” See, although Jesus knew the reality of real hunger, he also knew a deeper truth… and it was this deeper truth He spoke of in Matthew 4:4.

Today, we know very well how real hunger and thirst are. Because when our throats become dry, or when our tummies begin to rumble, we can barely concentrate on anything else. Because those physical demands consume us. But, there’s another type of hunger and thirst that is every bit as real as the physical. Only this type goes so much deeper than the surface.

See, I have felt hunger pangs that Wonder Bread cannot assuage, and I have experienced a thirst that not even Evian could quench. And perhaps the woman we read about in the fourth chapter of John felt the same. Perhaps she, too, had an unquenchable thirst and a hunger for more than bread alone. Because although this woman went to the well to gather water, she gained so much more. Oh, she was thirsty, alright, but for something deep and internal…

I thirst for God, the living God. When can I come and appear before God? Psalm 42:2

Jesus came to a town of Samaria, and because he was worn out from his journey, he sat down at a well. In the evening, a woman of Samaria came to draw water but Jesus said to her, “Give Me a drink.” She was surprised that He spoke to her since He was a Jew, and Jews did not associate with Samaritans. When she mentioned this, Jesus simply said, “If you knew the gift of God, and who is saying to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would ask Him, and He would give you living water.”

The woman wanted to know how to get this living water since Jesus didn’t even have a bucket and the well was deep. He said, “Everyone who drinks from this water will get thirsty again. But whoever drinks from the water that I give him will never get thirsty again-ever! In fact, the water I give him will become a well of water springing up within him for eternal life.” She said, “Sir, give me this water…”

I’ve heard several sermons on this passage of Scripture. And because of circumstances, we can infer that this woman must have been an outcast. First of all, she was a Samaritan hated by the Jews even though they shared the same ancestry. Basically, she was from a mixed race and apparently racism extends as far back as we can recall. Not only that, she came to the well when it was evening… perhaps there was less chance of running into people she wished to avoid. And finally, this woman had been married five times and the one she lived with was not her husband.

I would bet this woman had some excess baggage and a closet full of skeletons. I would even venture to say she probably felt quite desperate. And hungry. And oh, so thirsty by the time she ran into Jesus. But then, something out of the ordinary occurred… for when the woman from Samaria tended to her daily chores, she encountered not just another man. No, this time she encountered a Savior. Right there in the midst of routine, she discovered Jesus Christ.

And though He was a Jew, Jesus did not turn the other way in an attempt to avoid her (which would have been the norm). No, He did not greet her with indignation or contempt or condemnation or judgment. Rather, He met her right where she was. He tended to her deeper needs. He spoke of spiritual matters and He told her how to assuage her thirst with living water.

I just have to smile when I think about my son in his more tender years. When his stomach growled, he’d yell out, “Hungry!” knowing that his mama would take care of him. And when his throat became parched, he’d call out, “Thirsty!”, again, knowing I was there to handle it. And I just have to smile when I think about what God would say to us, His own children, when we do the same today…

Because there are those times when I ache inside… times when I need something, but can’t say what. And it’s then that my starving soul must be crying out, “Hungry!” And His reply?

“I am the bread of life. No one who comes to Me will ever be hungry again…” John 6:35

And for those times when I feel as dry as a bone… times when I am near desperate for revival of my soul but just can’t seem to get there. It’s then that my insides must be screaming, “Thirsty!” And His reply?

If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink! John 7:37

God is simply waiting for us to ask… because He is our heavenly father. When we’re hungry, He will feed us. And when we’re thirsty, He will give us drink. And if we open our ears to His word, we will hear Him.

For He says, “Come…”

Come, everyone who is thirsty, come to the waters; and you without money, come, buy, and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost! Why do you spend money on what is not good, and your wages on what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and you will enjoy the choicest of foods. Pay attention and come to Me; listen, so that you will live. Isaiah 55:1-3

 

So, what have you got?

by Pam Anderson2 Comments on So, what have you got?

If you’re alive and walking God’s green earth, then He has a plan for you… His thoughts are of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. And sometimes, that’s just hard to imagine. We look at our small lives, and wonder how in the world the God of all creation could possibly have a custom-made plan for each of us. Because we simply cannot fathom how we can be of any use to Him. We may even think, “I have positively nothing to offer.” Because times are hard, right? And the cost of living is rising. And because we’re so busy, time has become a commodity. Since we feel constraint, perhaps we hold back. But I know in my bones that holding back cannot be part of God’s custom-made plan. And as such, with regard to contributing to God’s kingdom and His plan, I just have to ask myself a question. I’ll pose the same to you. “So, what have you got?”

I can speak only for myself here, but at the basest level, I have me. And I have a pulse. And because I am living and breathing, I have God-given life. At the very least, I have that, right? And so, indeed, I possess life. And God has placed me strategically on this earth… for His purpose and His plan. He wants me to use what I have, which is life.

For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness”- He has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of God’s glory in the face of Jesus Christ. Now we have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us. We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed. We always carry the death of Jesus in our body, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who live are always given over to death because of Jesus, so that Jesus’ life may be revealed in our mortal flesh. So death works in us, but life in you. 2 Corinthians 4:6-12

So I see. I am but a clay jar housing life, but also, so much more. Because inside, there is light and knowledge of God’s glory, and the face of Jesus through His death and His life, and God’s power. And I have spirit… the Spirit. All of this is contained within me, an earthen vessel, to be used for God’s glory. But He doesn’t want me to keep this treasure to myself, for it’s to be shared.

“The one who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, will have streams of living water flow from deep within him.”       John 7:38

God wants for me to lavishly pour out these treasures, so that they splash onto and into the clay jars surrounding me. Because what I possess should be doled out freely… until everyone I come into contact with is drenched. I can be emptied, poured out as a drink offering, without the fear of drying up. Because the Spirit is endless. And I believe. And so, this is what I have… a river within me, and there are those who thirst.

There’s the story about a woman who lived long ago. We find her in the fourth chapter of 2 Kings. She was near the end of her rope. Her husband died, her debt had mounted, and finally, the creditors were coming to take away her two children as payment. And so, she did the only thing she knew to do… she approached the man of God. And Elisha asked her, “What can I do for you? Tell me, what do you have in the house?” She said there was nothing… nothing, but a jar of oil. But whereas she saw only need, Elisha saw opportunity. He told her, “Go and borrow empty containers from everyone… from all your neighbors. Do not get just a few. Then go in and shut the door behind you and your sons, and pour oil into all these containers. Set the full ones to one side.” And that’s what she did…

Long ago a woman filled empty jars with oil until there were none left. And that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do today. See, God fills us – His clay jars – with His own oil. We have the Holy Spirit. And He can fill us to the brim. He can pour into us until there’s no more room and we’re overflowing. Because the Holy Spirit is not a commodity… Its supply is limitless. And so, now, when we contemplate the question, “So, what have you got?” We can answer… We have a river. And it flows from deep within… streams of living water.

Yes, God has a purpose and a plan… for you, and for me. We are His earthen vessels, each one made to be filled. Until there are none left…

Many, mini deaths

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on Many, mini deaths

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” Jeremiah 29:11-14

It started with a promise. God said He would be found by me. But now I see. I have found Him… again and again. Because invariably, I begin to lose sight of Him. Inevitably, something will displace Him from my view. Something will claim all my attention, and ultimately, hold me captive. And it could be a good thing, or, it could be a bad thing. But ultimately, it makes no difference whether it’s good or bad, because if I’m holding to it tighter than God, then I will lose my grip on Him. And this is when I fall into captivity. When I loosen my grasp on God, I fall back into the pit of whatever it is that claims me. And there I stay… held down. Until, I remember. Him. For He has plans for me. I do have a future. And when I remember, I go to Him and I pray to Him. And He promises to listen to me.

God said that when I sought Him with my whole heart, He would be found by me. And this is true. Because when I turn to Him with my whole heart, He leads me back from my captivity. And this is my revelation. First, I must die. Because I am flesh and blood. And the flesh wants what the flesh wants. And if it’s sin I crave, then that sin leads to a spiritual death. And if misguided passion turns into obsession, then I have an idol I place above God. And if fear holds me down, then fear is my master… not God. Always, always, something begins to hold me captive. But the key that unlocks the the chains of my captivity is death… I must die to the want, I must die to the misplaced passion, and I must die to the fear. I must die… and there will be many, mini deaths in my life. For I have seen it. But behold, there’s beauty in my death throes. For with each occurrence, God brings me back to life. He never fails. Each time, He breathes fresh breath into my heart and soul. With each agony, He revives me. He never lets me go utterly.

And each time God revives my heart, there’s an opportunity. This is part of God’s plan for me. Because someone may witness my death. Someone may notice the change in my demeanor. Someone may even wonder what set me free from my captivity. And that someone is the whole point. For they may need to know the truth… the truth that they may need to die, too. Many, mini deaths may ultimately set them free. And do you see? My death only mimics what happened over 2000 years ago when a tomb lie empty. What someone else witnesses through my life can point the way to the cross, to the tomb, and to everlasting life. Because many, mini deaths lead to many, mini revivals. Someone will see a life, my life, resurrected.

And so it’s clear to me now. See, throughout my many years with God, I may have gotten “carried away” by something. And really, it’s happened more times than I can count. But God has been so faithful. Because with each banishment, I began to wither and die. And the longer my captivity, the drier I became. And eventually, I became so parched, I had to cry out for His living water. And that’s when I neared death, spiritually speaking. And when you’re that close to a spiritual death, you realize what’s really important. You don’t want to stay there, and so you realize you must die to whatever it is that holds you down. At least it happened that way for me. And so, I called out. And He kept His promise for He heard me. He listened out for my cry, and He gathered me from where He banished me. He brought me back to where I was first carried away captive – into exile. And He brought me back to life… again and again. Each time I neared a spiritual death, He picked me up and carried me… all the way to the cross. It’s at the foot of the cross where I find my life renewed… again and again.

And someone will see this… that’s the whole point. For it’s part of His plan. For me and for you. It’s through our many, mini deaths that someone will be led to new life. And my hope and prayer is that all who see will be carried to the cross… right there with us.

There’s a heartbeat…

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on There’s a heartbeat…

Most of us have seen the dramatic scenes in movies… there’s a traumatic event, and someone ends up lying on the pavement. A person hurriedly approaches the lifeless form, and then drops to their knees to help. An ear is pressed to the chest in expectation… surely it will be there. And then yes, we hear the proclamation. We find there is hope, for “There’s a heartbeat.” And it was yesterday in Sunday School that I realized this happens in a spiritual sense, too. Because I felt the very same. I felt a quickening of my heart that made it’s way to my ears… the kind that thuds all the way through your body… the kind that lets you know that God is in deed there with you. It’s the kind of thudding that comforts you… because it lets you know, “There’s hope, for there’s a heartbeat.”

I don’t know who’s stuck with me for the duration of this blog, but if anyone has, they have seen a rollercoaster of a spiritual journey in just a few short months. In a minimal amount of time, my life has depicted both highs and lows. It’s a life that’s reflected fullness of faith. But then, perhaps some doubt peeked through. There have been mountaintop experiences where there is fullness of life. Only to be followed up most recently with a darker period. See, I had fallen deep into a pit of gloom… surrounded by sadness, loneliness, and well… just plain depressed, I guess. I felt silence on all fronts and couldn’t quite say why. And honestly, for a short while, I felt as if God were absent. It’s as if His presence were no where to be found. Until yesterday, that is.

Why am I so depressed? Why this turmoil within me? Put your hope in God, for I will still praise Him, my Savior and my God. I am deeply depressed; therefore I remember You from the land of Jordan and the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep in the roar of Your waterfalls; all Your breakers and Your billows have swept over me. The LORD will send His faithful love by day; His song will be with me in the night- a prayer to the God of my life. Psalm 42:5-8

It was yesterday morning when I began reading the book of Esther, and something stood out. See, there was a king who issued a command to his queen. He commanded that she come before him, but she refused. And when he sought counsel from his wise men as to what he should do with his queen, the wise men said this, “Vashti is not to enter King Ahasuerus’ presence, and her royal position is to be given to another woman who is more worthy than she.” This caught my attention as I glimpsed a nugget of truth here. But I had to tuck it away until later because it was time to get ready for church. It wasn’t even a half an hour later that I declared to my husband that I was through with something. There was a nagging feeling that had followed me for quite some time, but I always pushed it down deep. Perhaps down deep into that pit of gloom that I found myself. But yesterday, I made my decision. Enough.

And so, an hour later in Sunday School, I was surprised by a deafening thud in my chest. Because that roaring of my heart hadn’t made its appearance for so long. And oh, was it ever music to my ears. Because that bump, bump, bump was the Holy Spirit. He touched me yesterday morning. And I so needed to feel His touch. See, I’ve been sad and lonely. I’ve been feeling separated from everyone and everything, but most importantly, I’ve been feeling separated from God. I’ve been sulking in a deep pit of gloom… but thankfully, it doesn’t matter how deep I go, He can still reach me.

It’s true that I went down for a time, but God didn’t let me sink too low. He called to me while I was in the deep, and so, I learn that He is really is faithful. Even when I’m not. Because He reached down and touched me. And as Psalm 42 proclaims, I find that He is in fact the God of my life. Because He spoke to me through His word and His touch. See, I made a decision before I left my home yesterday morning. It was a nagging thought I had carried with me for over a year now. But I kept pushing it down. And my realization yesterday morning was that God told me to do something over a year ago. But I procrastinated… why, I was just like Queen Vashti, who refused to do the bidding of King Ahaserus. My King gave me a command, and I rationalized it away for so long. And so the truth of the matter is, I’ve been living in sin. Therefore, to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin – James 4:17. All the silence… all the loneliness… all the depression… could this be the root of it?

There is no soundness in my body because of Your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin. For my sins have flooded over my head; they are a burden too heavy for me to bear. Lord, my every desire if known to You; my sighing is not hidden from You. My heart races, my strength leaves me, and even the light of my eyes has faded. My loved ones and friends stand back from my affliction, and my relatives stand at a distance. I am like a deaf person; I do not hear. I am like a speechless person who does not open his mouth… Psalm 38 (various verses)

I try to write out a Psalm a day. It doesn’t always happen, but when I do so, I pen them in order… one right after the other. And the above happens to be my Psalm for today. In my Bible, it’s referred to as a Prayer of a Suffering Sinner. And so, I see the truth about God & me. It’s my sin that weighed me down, it’s my sin that caused the separation from God, and it’s my sin that caused the silence. And sin that I carried for too long caused the light of my eye to fade. Why, it extinguished my very life. But He is the God of my life, so there is hope. Because although sin may have flooded over my head and pushed me down deep into a pit of gloom, God was right there with me. For His Spirit resides in me. And it was the breakers and billows of His living waters that swept over me. Deep called to deep in the roar of His waterfalls, and He spoke to me through His touch. And with His ear upon my lifeless chest, I heard Him as He proclaimed, “There’s hope, for there’s a heartbeat.”

You are not alone!

by Pam Anderson2 Comments on You are not alone!

When I was nineteen, we were three. There was Shannon and Gracie and me, and we were always together. I loved them fully, and when they were with me… I was never lonely. Because I had my best friends. And I can’t remember if it was when I still lived at home, or when I joined the Air Force that we gave each other pet names. Shannon was pretty much the leader and was christened “Wise One.” Gracie, who was petite and quiet natured, became “Little One.” And me? For reasons I can’t recall, I was “Lonely One.” I had forgotten that till just this morning. Loneliness… it touched me then and it’s touched me now. And so I see, this must be a recurring pattern in my life.

I am convinced that there are no accidents or coincidences. I fully believe that we find ourselves in circumstances over and over again… until we get it. And so, rather than sweep this unwelcome feeling under the rug by filling my life with as much activity and business as I can possibly manage, I want to understand this feeling. Why should I be lonely? As I contemplate the last two blogs, it’s apparent that I am. I am once more that vulnerable young girl of nineteen… once more, I am “Lonely One.” God has brought me to a place where I am surrounded by silence. In more ways than one. I work from home, and rarely get out amongst people. And as time passes, the once frequent voices of old friends have almost completely hushed and stilled altogether. And then there’s God. I haven’t been hearing from Him lately. And so, loneliness has nestled down into my heart once more… I am utterly, “Lonely One.”

You know, I don’t think we’re made to be alone. God Himself is three in One. He is Father, and Son and Holy Spirit. He said, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness.” And after man was created, God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is like him.” After Eve made an appearance, man said, “This one, at last, is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh; this one will be called woman, for she was taken from man.” It’s Genesis 2:24 that says “This is why a man leaves his father and mother and bonds with his wife, and they become one flesh.” And so, there was Adam and Eve… and God Himself chose to fellowship with them. He walked with them in the cool of the garden.. they were three.

I believe it was after I met my husband when I began to refer to myself as, “Lonely One No More.” See, we became one flesh, and for quite some time I was filled. But, as time wore on, I had bouts of loneliness. First, we moved away from family and it was just us. We did make friends at first, but when one moved turned into another, and then another… well, new friendships waned. My husband worked long hours and was away most evenings and weekends. My karaoke machine became my best friend, as I had a party for one just about every Friday night. My telephone was my other best friend because I made frequent calls to those I loved and missed. We were three, my Karaoke machine, my phone, and me.

Loneliness began to fill my soul as the years marched on. And so, today I’m surprised that I find myself here. Because I am in my homeland… surrounded by family members. I have a wonderful husband and a beautiful child. I have been blessed. And yet, “Lonely One” is etched on my heart. And this time, I want to know why.

Here is truth. In all the years that I spent away from family and loved ones, I was never, ever alone. Because what Jesus told His followers holds true today… “And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Counselor to be with you forever. He is the Spirit of truth. The world is unable to receive Him because it doesn’t see Him or know Him. But you do know Him, because He remains with you and will be in you.” John 14:16-17. I have the Spirit with me and in me today, just as I did all those years ago. And all those years did not have to be forlorn. They could have been magical! There could have been so many special moments for just God and me. I could have shared hours of intimate fellowship… with God. But I chose not to. And I think that’s why I find myself here today. Thus the silence. I believe God wants me to know… I do not need to be lonely. He wants me to take the truth out of my head and let it seep deep into those lonely black holes of my heart. And it’s not just me that needs to know this. For we are not alone. That means you are not alone!

I have a choice… I know when the dark times are coming. I can feel them hovering on the outer edges of my contentment. And I can do one of two things. I can invite loneliness to my pity party for one (and whether I acknowledge it or not – both God and my husband are in attendance anyway). Or, I can cancel the party. I can ignore what God is telling me, or, I can let the truth of what He says settle into my heart. See, my husband and I are one flesh. And I have the Spirit of the living God residing in me. And so, I am not alone. God, my husband, and me… we’re three. I can be “Lonely One No More” if I want to be. And you? Only you can answer that. But if you have God the Father through Jesus the Son, then the Spirit of the living God is in you, too. That makes you two, and two are better than one.

Two are better than one,
    because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down,
    one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
    and has no one to help them up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
    But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
    two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

Golden

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on Golden

I used to have a good friend named Carmen, and I loved her so. When I was in the Air Force, we spent nearly every day together for the span of a year and a half (or more). But the time came for her to move on, and we decided to keep in touch via journals. We bought identical books, and were to fill them and mail them to each other monthly. And we did well for quite some time. But eventually, as time and space grew too deep and wide, the journals stopped. Our paths moved in different directions not to intersect again, and today, I don’t know where she is. It was while I was stationed in Korea that I received her journal, and inside the cover she had written:

Make new friends,
but keep the old.
One is silver,
the other is gold.

I was delighted, and shared the poem with my new friend, Cheyenne. She laughed because I wasn’t familiar with the lines, as she knew them well. I believe she said she sang the tune in girl scouts. As with Carmen, Cheyenne and I became tight. I loved her, too. She was my roommate in Korea, and we shared everything. And when the time came to move on, as with Carmen, we stayed in touch for a while. She even made it to my wedding, and I visited her once down south. But alas, the ever widening time and space eventually divided us, and today, I don’t know where she is.

Early in marriage, I made two more friendships that were dear to me. One, my sister-in-law. We had so much in common and connected almost at first. I’m sure you know what I mean… when you meet someone and know immediately that you’re going to be the best of friends. It was my first weekend with her that we had to share a bed, but we stayed up till the early hours sharing story after story. That was seventeen years ago. The other friendship was with my cousin. Although we grew up playing together, it was after the Air Force that we became like sisters. She was another that I shared everything with, staying up till the wee hours of the morning swapping story after story. She was another that I immediately connected with. And those connections were priceless to me… even golden.

And so today, I find myself sorrowful. Because time and space is ever widening. Phone calls that used to occur multiple times a week have dwindled to once or twice a month, if that. And I feel like a piece of me is gone. Because they’re gone. See, I love these women, and yet for some reason, I am separated from them. There’s silence. And it’s no one’s fault… there are schedules, and events, and sicknesses, and before you know it, distance has inserted a wedge into something that was priceless and golden… something you thought you’d never lose. But I feel as if I’ve lost my priceless friends. And I miss them. I feel alone.

In the Bible, we read of a friendship. It was one of those golden relationships that neither time nor space could sever. And it was King David who had a such a golden friend… his name was Jonathan. The only problem was that Jonathan happened to be King Saul’s son. And enmity had grown between Saul and David, because David was to be the next king. Saul lost God’s favor, but David gained it. Because of that, Saul grew to resent David… so bitter was Saul that he even tried to kill David. But that was not so with his son, Jonathan. Quite the opposite took place. The King James version states it like this:

Now when he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. 1 Samuel 18:1

Another version of the Bible says that Jonathan committed himself to David. And that’s just what a good friendship is… it’s a commitment. A good friend will fiercely protect you and stand up for you when someone says the wrong thing. She will even place her life in danger for your sake. A good friend is your shelter and hiding place – she’s who you can turn to when you’re feeling blue. She’s the one whose doorstep is most welcoming, whose couch is most comforting, and whose hug is most warming. Her cup of refreshment never empties. And it’s that type of friendship that David and Jonathan shared. Oh, how David grieved for him when he died:

I grieve for you, Jonathan my brother. You were such a friend to me. Your love for me was more wonderful than the love of a woman (for me). 2 Samuel 1:27

Today, I feel sad. Because it’s here in the sounds of silence that I miss those who were so dear to me. It’s here alone that I wish I had my dear friends close. And so it’s here that I lamented to God, and told Him how I felt. I told Him that I’m lonely and that I need a friend. Because those golden treasures are hard to come by today. See, when you move back home as an older woman, the patterns of life have already been set. And they were set without you in them. Peoples’ lives are already in order, and thus, it’s hard to insert oneself into a life that already has a steady flow… And it’s so hard to meet another. Because, although new friends are good… it’s the old ones who are golden.

God has an answer for this. See, when it comes to old friends, He is my oldest. He is the most faithful and the most loyal. Because He knew me before time began. He is the One who knit my soul within the womb of my mother, and so He knows me best. And it’s to His doorstep I can run when I’m feeling blue. Because He will always be available… He is the One who will never leave me nor forsake me. And His cup of refreshment will never run dry. He tells me so through His word:

Your faithful love reaches to heaven, Your faithfulness to the skies! LORD, You preserve me and it’s Your faithful love that is so valuable. It’s in the shadow of Your wings that I can take my refuge. I can be filled from the abundance of Your house and drink from Your refreshing stream… You are the One who leaves the light on for me. (Taken from Psalm 36)

It’s true, I may be lonely today. And it’s true I may be separated from old friends by space and time and schedules. And if I want to be honest, I may even be wallowing in the sounds of silence. But the truth is, I have the best of friends. His name is God, and He is my Maker. And as far as relationships go, why, this one is golden.

To Every Season…

by Pam Anderson2 Comments on To Every Season…

I am a woman of many words. Perhaps too many. And so often I wish I could retract something spoken in haste… It’s one of my faults, really. Because I’m an open book. I can’t hide a thing. And what I feel is usually splashed across my face, and bubbles forth from the depths of my heart right out of my mouth for whosoever is in the vicinity to hear. I think all, and I tell all. And so, I’m quite perplexed by this week. For I have no words. And so today, the words penned by King Solomon in Ecclesiastes 3 hold greater meaning for me… There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven… a time to be silent and a time to speak (Ecclesiastes 3). Yes, it’s very apparent that words fail me… I am silenced.

And so, for now, that’s what I shall be… silent. I hear not, so I speak not. For how long, I cannot say. But, in case there is someone out there who may wonder why, I felt an explanation was necessary. Simply, I have no words. But I’ve heard it said that silence is golden. When I return, I’ll let you know if I find the saying to be true.

Until then, I will leave you with words from, Thomas Carlyle, a poet who lived long ago…

“Silence is the element in which great things fashion themselves together; that at length they may emerge, full-formed and majestic, into the daylight of Life, which they are thenceforth to rule. Not William the Silent only, but all the considerable men I have known, and the most undiplomatic and unstrategic of these, forbore to babble of what they were creating and projecting. Nay, in thy own mean perplexities, do thou thyself but hold thy tongue for one day: on the morrow, how much clearer are thy purposes and duties; what wreck and rubbish have those mute workmen within thee swept away, when intrusive noises were shut out! Speech is too often not, as the Frenchman defined it, the art of concealing Thought; but of quite stifling and suspending Thought, so that there is none to conceal. Speech too is great, but not the greatest. As the Swiss Inscription says: Sprecfien ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden (Speech is silvern, Silence is golden); or as I might rather express it: Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.”

Child sized holes… for Cathy

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on Child sized holes… for Cathy

I’ve been blessed in that I can work from home… it’s been almost seven years now. However, that can be good, and that can be bad. Because when you stay at home, you can become isolated and separated from the world and current affairs. Especially when you quit cable and satellite and have nothing but internet for news and Netflix for entertainment. And so, it was last year when a couple of my family members died that I purposed in my heart to see more of my family. And here I am a year later, but not much has changed. Oh, I’ve reached out a little bit more this past month, and have tried to do better with loving on my family, but not nearly enough. And so, it was last week when I was praying that I had to stop mid-request. Because it was my aunt Cathy that I thought of. And what came to me was clear… “She’s next.” It was her that I wanted to love on next… but here I am a week later, and I’ve not moved from my hermit’s quarters.

It was earlier this week that a devastating tornado ripped through Oklahoma. I didn’t even know it till late that evening. As I said, I’m isolated here… I work from home, I check the web for news sporadically, and I don’t leave the house much. And when I finally realized what took place so many miles away… I was moved, and yet, I had nothing. Writing-wise, that is. I fancy myself a writer, and here was this catastrophic event that took place, lives lost, and I had nothing to offer by way of words. Until today that is. It was not till this morning that my heart was heavy, and that my eyes were weepy, and that I pondered what really took place. It was not till this morning that I fully comprehended that the worst had happened for so many people. Because what really happened is that some peoples’ biggest fear was realized in that they lost what mattered most to them. They lost their children. And what’s left are child sized holes in their hearts… holes that can never be filled. And that’s when I remembered… I remembered my aunt Cathy.

people sized holes

Honestly, I can’t tell you how many years ago it was when my cousin Barbie died. It has to have been at least eleven or twelve years. But what I do remember is the time of year… May. I remember because I was at the beach with my husband’s family. It was near Memorial Day, and we were having a blast. But there was a message on my phone… Barbie had died in a tragic accident. She was a young woman and it was so unexpected, and when I called my brother, he could barely choke out the words. It seemed so surreal to me… how could this happen? And when I heard the news, I was young, myself. And I had no children… and no thoughts of trying to. Not really. And so, this sad and tragic event affected me… but not as it would today. Because now, I am a mom. And now, I know how I feel about my own. And if I want to be truthful, this is my deepest fear… that I’ll lose my darling boy. And I know that if he were to be taken from me, he would leave a hole in my heart that no one could fill. Because there is no other him. And I’m sure this is exactly how my aunt feels. And I’m pretty sure that what took place in Oklahoma earlier this week serves as a reminder of her own loss… and of her own broken heart. I’m sure she sadly remembers her own child that was ripped from her arms way too soon, leaving a hole that can never be filled.

“A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” Matthew 2:18

Today there are so many broken hearts. Today, so many mourn the loss of their precious babies, and comfort seems far off. For some families, like in Oklahoma, the wounds are fresh… but for some, it’s old wounds that have never quite healed. And age matters not. Because I don’t care how old the soul is that moves on from this earth, the fact is, she’s still someone’s baby. And I wish I could tell Cathy this… that I think I have an idea of what she may feel. I wish I could go back to that time so I could really empathize with her and let my heart break alongside her own as it happened. Because then, I could not…. not like today. I wish I could go back to that time so I could offer her words of hope… words of wisdom. But you know, it’s never too late. And it’s no accident that God brought my aunt to mind last week. Because He knew what was going to happen this week… He knew just how she would feel. Remember, “Cathy’s next…” See, her daughter died sometime in May. There’s no doubt… she is remembering. There’s no doubt… she still feels it. And there’s no doubt, the child sized hole remains.

It’s Memorial Day weekend. And too often, we forget what really matters… see, mostly we think about beaches and pools and hot dogs and lakes and cook-outs and fun. But it’s so much more. It’s a time to remember those who have gone on before us. And may we not forget those who were left behind. And this weekend, may we not just remember those left behind, but come alongside them. May we offer them hope and surround them with prayers… especially the mothers.

See, a mother is connected to her child in a way that no one else could be. At first, the baby is knit together in her womb… inside her. The baby is encompassed, surrounded by protective fluid. And she receives life sustaining oxygen and nutrients from her mother through the umbilical cord. And then, when she finally leaves the safety nest of her mother’s womb, she exits by way of the birth canal and is placed directly into her new safety nest… her mother’s arms. And most mothers will testify today, that if we could, we would keep our children right there… in our arms forever. But that’s not the way of life.

So this Memorial Day, may we remember, and may we pray for those left behind…

Dear Lord, may they know! Please God, may all those left behind with child sized holes realize that yes, it’s true their sweet children were indeed carried away from the safety of their arms. However, may they receive some sense of peace when they comprehend that their little ones were carried away by the arms of Your angels. And although they cannot physically hold their precious babies here on earth, just maybe, God, just maybe… they will find some comfort in knowing that those little ones are now with You, in Your everlasting arms. May they realize that there’s no safer place to be…  in His name I pray, Amen.

No, I don’t think those child sized holes will ever be filled here on earth. But one day, the holes will disappear, when we ourselves are ushered into His arms… alongside our children. And so this Memorial Day, I choose to remember. I will remember those families out west, and their hurts. And my heart will break alongside theirs. But also, this Memorial Day, I will remember Cathy and her own child sized hole. Today, my heart breaks for her. And because God brought her to mind, I just have to think today’s writing is specifically for her… this one’s for Cathy.

Feels like home to me

by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment on Feels like home to me

“I will be found by you,” says the LORD. “I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes. I will gather you out of the nations where I sent you and will bring you home again to your own land.” Jeremiah 29:14

The above verse is so very personal to me. Because it embodies what was most important to me just about three years ago. Within this verse, I see my two most pressing prayer concerns at that time… One, I wanted to find God, with all my heart and with all my soul and with all my mind. And the other was like it, with all my heart and with all my soul and with all my mind, I wanted to return to my homeland. I wanted these two things desperately, and now that God has answered both prayers, I believe I know why I sought them so frantically. Because on a deeper level, it wasn’t just my home or the LORD that I was seeking. It was safety. And so naturally, I longed to return to the place in which I first felt safe. A child first feels safe in the arms of her mother or at her daddy’s knees. And so, it was that nest of security that I sought… the nest from which I jumped eighteen years earlier in an effort to spread my wings. And after so long away, it was my homeland I wanted. Because absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? And because there, I would find those I loved, and who loved me back unconditionally. It was security of a homeland I was eager to find.

My mother-in-law made a remark just a week or so ago, and I find it to be true. She said that God has plans for me, but He put me where I would feel secure. And there’s no place like home, right? Wasn’t it Dorothy who sought what was beyond the rainbow, and in the end, she just wanted to go back home. And isn’t it said, “Home is where your heart is.” Don’t we see that cross-stitched on pillows adorning comfy couches in homes across our land? Yes, when you leave your home searching for the rainbow, and end up finding not gold as promised, but an empty pot, you tend to want to go back to where you started. Familiarity beckons, and what’s known calls, and comfort draws you… back to the place from which you were carried away captive… back from the world that didn’t fulfill as you so hoped.

Since coming home, I’ve learned a lot about God. More so than I have in my entire life. And the biggest lesson I have learned is that there’s a hole in your heart that can never be filled on this side of eternity. Some refer to it as a God-sized hole, that only He can fill. And it’s from experience that I believe that. Because it was only by my spending so many years away from home, and my longing for it desperately, that I learned of its inadequacy. If God brought me back too soon, I wouldn’t have realized it. And if He never brought me back at all, why, my homeland would still be that elusive promised land to me. It would still be a plot of soil that I set my every hope and dream upon… it would still be Virginia that I considered my real home today. And not Him, who is my ultimate home and my final destination.

But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:16

I’ve been home for just over two and a half years now. And the crazy thing is… home no longer feels like home to me. The oddest thing is that what I placed all my hopes on didn’t produce what I expected. And so, that spurned on my search for God all the more… here in my hometown. And it’s here that I found God… where I least expected to find Him. And what He’s revealing to me is that here will never be enough. And it doesn’t matter where here happens to be. Because it’s not there… with Him. He is the only thing that can fulfill and satisfy the deep unrest of my soul. The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever feel fully satisfied until that Day, when I am in fact somewhere over the rainbow and in His very presence. Because what I know now is that He is home. It’s not here, in Virginia, but it’s there… with Him.

I was searching for security. I wanted a refuge. And so, I thought home. But Virginia can’t help me with that. Because it’s only Him… the eternal God is my refuge. It’s His arms that are everlasting (Deuteronomy 33:27). And so now, it’s Him that I seek… because He feels like home to me.

One thing I have desired of the LORD, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life… Psalm 27:4