Thankful For The Written Word

June 18, 2015June 18, 2015 ~ Deb Foster ~ 5 Comments

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. 2 Tim 3:16-17

We have lots of i’s in our home: iPods, iPads, iPhones. All of our i’s have apps: games, learning, productivity, photo editing, reading… We have iBooks, Kindle, Nook, and school and regional library reading apps. It’s amazing really…all the devices combined can hold thousands of books, probably more than I could read in a life time. I also have several digital bibles and can switch back and forth between versions faster than I could ever flip the old fashion chapter index tabs. But…newer doesn’t necessarily mean better. While I appreciate the convenience and portability of these devices, they definitely change the landscape of the reading experience. Swiping the electronic screen to the next page doesn’t have the same aesthetic sound and feel as the repetitive swish of a finger seeking the next page. Bookmarking feels incomplete. Electronic highlighting doesn’t feel like the old familiar act of blazing a trail through the sentences, drawing the most important words to the forefront of vision and memory.

While it’s convenient to download a book at home with the mere touch of a button, I still love to stroll the crowded aisles of bookstores, inspect the wares, flip the pages. I like displays that attract and please the eyes. I like books that entice with classy, well-designed covers. I’m always drawn to the bible display: bibles of every size and color and translation. I like leather bibles..the smell, the crisp pages, the words of Jesus emboldened red. Heavy. Weighted with truth, glory, and promise. I write personal notes, reminders, and whispers or shouts of encouragement in the margins and flip back through in remembrance during times of need and wondering. A finger here, a bookmark there, a scrap of paper, a church bulletin, an old picture…Searching for truth, for just the right word.

Not everyone is as fortunate. Some are forced to hide their word. They steal hidden, forbidden glances…then they hide it in their hearts. They risk all for the written word, the living Word. I am thankful that, at this moment in time, I can write the word, speak the work, possess the word with no immediate fear. I can share the word, sing the word, frame it on my wall, write it on my doorpost, or even tattoo on my skin if I choose. There is power and remembrance in both the spoken word and the written word.

I’m also thankful for the teachers, scholars, and students of the word who have researched, learned, listened, and then taught the word..sometimes forging the written word into expanded narratives, challenging lessons, and thoughtful ponderings.

These are the written words I’ve been exploring during the last few weeks. I am thankful that I don’t have to hide them, thankful they are readily available, and thankful for the weight I feel in my hand as I hold them and the lightness in my heart when I read them.

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” Psalm 119:105

Thankful For Color: The Artist’s Palette

June 11, 2015June 11, 2015 ~ Deb Foster ~ 6 Comments

For years, the only TV I owned was a small 12 inch black and white. I’m not complaining. I have a large flat screen now and I rarely turn it on. In fact, I disconnected the cable after football season and my husband didn’t even notice until the “Final Four.” 🙂 It’s simply to say that for many years I stayed tucked inside, introverted, and my window to the world was very much like that 12 inch black and white screen.

Thankfully, I now have eyes that see. Eyes that search. Eyes that drink in colors and flashes and scenes filled with the vibrant beauty of reds and blues and greens and golds and purples. Like a camera, my ever-scanning lenses search and record vivid hues and splashes of a thousand colors throughout life and nature, masterfully stroked by the hand of the Grand Artist. I gaze in wonder at every intentional, well-placed sprinkle and smudge from the Artist’s palette.

Red is bright, lively, and exciting. Hot. Happy…maybe a little loud, wild, and carefree. It lives and laughs and loves with full joy and bold expression.

Orange is…well, I am from Tennessee 😉 It’s college football and blinding sunsets and big bouncy circus balls and sweet, sweet citrus. It’s fun and delicious.

Yellow is happy, playful, bright. It beams and tumbles like sunshine…warming my skin, warming my soul. It’s a bright round smiley face, cheerful and encouraging. 🙂

Green is full of life…moving, growing, enriching, nourishing. Grass, trees, leaves, frogs. Green breathes and refreshes and sustains. Like softly spoken words, it spreads and gives life.

Blue is soothing. It calms, it invites, it welcomes. It surrounds, covers, and envelops like a soft warm blanket. It is a bold broad sky, a deep ocean, big baby eyes, a crooning saxophone.

Indigo and violet…I’m not sure I can tell the difference but I love every shade of blue and purple They’re dramatic, intense, regal. Beautiful mature women, stately kings, garden flowers…they all wear purple, all unique, royal, experienced, and proud.

Thankful that the world is painted not only with varied shades of black, white, and gray, but with vibrant colors bursting forth like a thousand hallelujahs. Thankful for eyes that see and colors that warm and cheer and inspire. Thankful for the eye, the heart, the love, the creativity, and the steady hand of the Artist.

“..not even Solomon in all his splendor…”

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

June 4, 2015 ~ Deb Foster ~ 8 Comments

Every good and perfect gift is from above… James 1:17

It’s Thursday…time to take a moment to be thankful.

Today I am thankful for the pitter patter of little feet. Well…maybe they aren’t so little anymore. 🙂

I am blessed to be a mom twice. Two children. Four feet. Four hands. Two hearts. Endless possibilities. Long gone are the sounds of pittering and pattering down the hallways and the stairs. Maybe now the toddling and pitter pattering are more like stomping, shuffling, and rushing, but it still warms my heart and falls like bittersweet music on my tuned-in mommy ears. From early unsteady footfalls on the worn but welcoming floors of home, to the steady thunder throughout the cold halls of high school, the welcoming hills of a college campus, and the rushed, demanding workplace, their footprints are forging their own trails and leaving their own imprints now.

As I write these words, my son is walking on the hard soil of a Haiti mission field, hopefully leaving footprints, handprints, and a presence that will make a difference in others’ lives. My daughter walked that same path the previous four years, but today she is walking up and down the halls of a senior assisted living facility giving smiles, love, and assistance to people in need. Feet that go, do, serve, and leave their prints…I am thankful.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news! Rom 10:15

All your children will be taught by the LORD, and great will be their peace. Isaiah 54:13

I love baby feet and baby fingers and baby smells and smiles and all the wonders represented in the tiny little miracles. Chubby cheeks, wondering eyes, wiggling fingers, ticklish toes, contagious laughter..littles are so much fun! They’re rough and tumble and adventurous and wide-eyed and ready to be and do and live and learn. They grow, they change, they challenge, they leave. We laugh, we cry, we embrace, we love, we pray, we remember..

We look at photos and first locks of hair and handprints on construction paper and tiny clothes packed away in containers. The cries and the laughter and the first words echo in our memories like the distant chimes blown around by the wind. They sometimes fade and seem lost but eventually, unexpectedly rush in like the winds of a fierce, violent storm. And we soak in them and find comfort. The footprints, the images, the sounds, the smells, and the pitter patter resonate anew. And we are thankful.

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Prov 22:6

And as my children grow and walk and mature and serve, I am thankful for faithful friends and new lives and the sound of new little pitter patters.

Cats and Dogs and Fish, Oh My!

May 28, 2015May 28, 2015 ~ Deb Foster ~ 2 Comments

It’s thankful Thursday again! Check out http://www.marshasmusings.com for a good word, blessings, and encouragement. It’s a great place to link up and share thoughts on thankfulness. 🙂

Today I am thankful for the joy and the privilege of being a pet owner.

Dogs, cats, a rabbit, some hermit crabs, a hamster, several fish… My house has been home to many of God’s creatures as they scooted, splashed, hopped, climbed, padded, thundered, explored, and lived life.

Not always the smartest, the cutest, pedigreed, or of significant worldly value, they have loved us unconditionally, encouraged us with their presence, provided comfort and company during lonely times, offered entertainment and laughter during fun times, and have been a quiet, trusted presence during still times. They have softened my heart and taught me the value of all life. More importantly, they have taught my children faithfulness, gentleness, responsibility, and duty. They have been cute, cuddly, messy, boisterous instruments that have helped them learn how to love and do and respect life and, sadly, how to lose.. to cry and hurt and mourn with depth and grace in the midst of losing that which they love and value.

Pets and children reveal unique parts of us:

I’ve found, adopted, rescued, been given, and bought pets. I’ve cleaned fish bowls, crab tanks, hamster cages, litter boxes, hallway rugs, and back yards. I’ve found myself unexpectedly cheering on hermit crabs in bathtub races..snapping photos of a dwarf hamster riding in a remote controlled car..training a rabbit to use a litter box..speaking eulogies over fish through tears and prayers..cradling beloved pets as they breathed their last breaths..making hard decisions at the end of their lives..

A time to love, a time to grieve.. Now we have a mini pet cemetery in the backyard as the final resting place of pets who have left their paw prints in our lives and on our hearts: a 19 year old beloved cat-baby, a 16 year old devoted dog-friend, a hamster, a kitten, multiple fish, several hermit crabs, and two Eastern bluebirds.. A reminder of the fleeting speed of life and of blessings loved and lost.

We’re down to the final five: two dogs, a cat, and two Betta fish..almost an empty nest.

Not everyone shares or understands our love and devotion to our pets. They may at times be expensive, messy, noisy, or inconvenient; but I’m thankful for the privilege of owning pets and making them little parts of our family…enlarging our home and enlarging our hearts. ❤

“All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.”

Remember…

May 25, 2015May 27, 2019 ~ Deb Foster ~ 1 Comment

A nation reveals itself not only by the men it produces, but also by the men it remembers. -John F. Kennedy

King Solomon also challenged us to reflect and to remember:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

Today is a time to remember…but what does it mean to remember?

It’s a verb…showing action or intention: have in or be able to bring to one’s mind an awareness of (someone or something that one has seen, known, or experienced in the past).

Memorial Day… Is it more than a day off work, a picnic in the park, time together with friends, the beginning of Summer, a day at the pool, and some good food on the grill? All those are great, but is there more?

Decoration Day was first celebrated (unofficially) in the few years following the Civil War, the deadliest. most close-to-home, war ever affecting the United States…dividing communities and tearing families apart. It was a day to remember, to pray, and to adorn graves with flowers to remember the sacrifice. Memorial Day wasn’t officially recognized as a national holiday until 1971…more than a hundred years after people began the tradition of remembering all those who had lost their lives serving their country.

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,

I remember…I grew up in an Army town. Young men with crew cuts, tattoos, fast cars, and fast lives were ever-changing parts of the backdrop. Seemingly ordinary lives and faces, they were such an familiar part of daily living that I failed to see the glory and sacrifice played out in everyday scenery. I was totally unaware of the tremendous sacrifice and the risks involved in being a soldier. I failed to understand the scope of service and depth of their commitment. Practically kids, they were torn from their families and relocated all over the world. Driven and treated harshly, often viewed with suspicion and contempt, they were armed, equipped, and sent to the front lines to wage wars that would never end and could never be won.

a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,

Strong and courageous, creative and daring, bold and fearless, fragile and broken…this human life and condition present varied experiences, challenges, opportunities, and chances for pain and wounding; but “a time to heal” and “a time to build” offer the promise of hope. We remember the past to honor sacrifice and to build a better future.

a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,

I remember… Washington D.C. is one of my family’s favorite cities to visit. A symbol of freedom, democracy, and remembrance, the city is built upon two hundred year old stories, legendary history, and extensive monuments that surround it like soldiers guarding their charge. They stir us to remember.

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

The streets, the shadows, the monuments shout echoes of patriotism, pride, loss, regret, and what should or could-have-beens.

So many conflicting feelings and words: united, one nation, under God, liberty, justice for all…but also: division, anger, hatred, death, loss of hope. We are fearfully and wonderfully made but we are also needy and broken, We live, we love, we laugh, we lose, we hurt, we wound others. We remember…

a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,

My family loves history. We travel to former presidents’ homes, Civil War forts, museums, and scattered landmarks. We gaze on old relics and tattered pieces of history with awe and admiration and reverence. We remember…

a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,

Arlington National Cemetery, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the tattered flags, the eternal flame, the cold grave stones… They are silent. They are somber. They remember.

a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace

Love and hate. War and peace. I hate war. I love peace. War within, war without. War is costly. Peace is costly. Today we remember the toll that both have taken on our country, our communities, our young people, our family, our friends. Will we really remember?

Will we remember to train up our kids, to tell them of God’s faithfulness and the sacrifice of generations who have gone before? Will we talk about it with our children and impress it on them when we are walking down the road, when we are at home, when we lie down and when we rise? Will we write it on our doorframes or on our very hearts? For what beliefs, lifestyles, and freedoms have our sons, daughter, mothers, and fathers laid down their lives? Mindfulness demands thankfulness. Count your blessings, count your freedoms, know that freedom is bought with a price, and be thankful. Remember..

Memorial Day… Maybe it really is all these things: Summer, new life, bountiful blessings, a safe place, time to play, laughter of children, a splash in the pool, a trip to the beach, cherished time with friends and family. But it was bought with a price. So remember its value. Enjoy blessings and safety, being aware that the price has already been paid. Remember and be thankful.

Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13

Will you remember?

Let It Rain…

May 21, 2015May 24, 2015 ~ Deb Foster ~ 2 Comments

It’s Thankful Thursday! There is so much to be thankful for everyday, so I’m participating in a thankfulness blog at http://www.marshasmusings.com, “linking hearts and blogs through gratitude.” Check it out for encouragement and reminders of our daily blessings.

Today I am thankful for rain. With so many blessings I could be counting, that may seem trivial, but the rain is blowing against the window as I write, and I find the splashing drops and low rumble of thunder in the distance quite inspirational.

There was a time when I didn’t rejoice in the rain, but I enjoy working in the yard: digging, planting, and dreaming, so a good steady downpour is like manna from heaven, sustaining all I’ve planted. Dry, crunchy grass, wilting flowers, and hard barren land make me feel like
I’ve somehow failed to provide proper care and nurture of what has been entrusted to me. Well…maybe that’s a bit melodramatic. Maybe I just like the feel of thick green grass spread out like carpet beneath my feet and enjoy the beauty of the vivid colors and unique shapes and types of flowers. I like to walk through my yard and see the growth and feel the velvety blanket of lush green grass.

As children, many times we don’t like the rain. It thwarts our plans, our intentions to explore and play and run all day. As adults, it sometimes does that too, but other times it causes us to slow down, to pause, and to rethink our day.

I love the sound of rain. Few things are more soothing and nourishing to my soul than a cup of coffee in my hand and a steady drum of rain on the rooftop overhead. Tin roof, shingled roof, canopy of trees, protective umbrella…they all sound exquisite. A cup of coffee, a comfortable chair, a warm blanket, the sound of rain, and the heart and ears of a trusted companion seem to make time stand still: a perfect moment, a quiet refuge, a peaceful haven.

I love the smell of rain. Sometimes the fragrance moistens the air before the first raindrop falls, but I prefer the lingering scent in the moments after a steady Spring downpour. It smells like life and love and newness and hope.

I love the feel of rain. I like when it mists against my face or trickles down between my toes. The feel of my bare feet splashing through a cool puddle on a warm sidewalk transports me back in time to playgrounds, swings, merry-go-rounds, and sidewalk chalk.

The sound, the smell, the feel, the look…I especially like to watch the rain. I like to see it in the distance and anticipate its arrival. I like the hard driving sheets that pelt against the window and warn me to stay inside. I like the agile pellets that bounce off the road and sidewalk like angry bubbles.

In reality, I know that rain isn’t always pleasant and welcomed. It isn’t always helpful. It can be angry and destructive as well as refreshing and nourishing. It can be messy, inconvenient. It can change our plans, dampen our spirits But in the end, there is growth, nurture, sustenance, and promise of new life. For this, I am thankful.

“…the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever.”

mysteriesofgrace

Grace is free. But it’s not cheap.

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