Blessed Are the Meek

Today a 2 pm I will gather at the local funeral home to celebrate a life lived well. I don't like to call them "funerals." That sounds too sad and really doesn't reveal the true nature of what is happening. Yes, we will cry because Mr. Wayne will be missed, but there will also be laughter at a life lived, not as a solo, but a chorus for Mr. Wayne's life will always be remembered by its depth not its duration.

I only knew Mr. Wayne for 5 years but all you had to do is look around at the visitation and thumb through the sign-in book to see all the lives Mr. Wayne had touched. People were not only visiting Mrs. Carolyn but they were also laughing and visiting with each other telling the most wonderful stories about Mr.Wayne. You can always tell when someone put a lot of time into living because there are a lot of stories to tell.

I John 3:10 tells us: "Whoever does not do what is right is not of God, especially the one who does not love his brother." Mr. Wayne loved his neighbors and fellow sojourners in this life. He and Mrs. Carolyn were one of the first couples in my little town to reach out to us and offer us true friendship. We had been here a year, both of us city kids, and they reached out to make us feel at home in our small town. There were eight of us that met at the town cafe every Saturday morning and exchanged news, opinions and jokes. We shared the true joy of fellowship every Saturday over breakfast. Mr. Wayne will be sorely missed at our "breakfast club." He never said much but when he talked, we all listened because he was either saying something very wise learned through a life of varied experiences, very important, or he was issuing a well deserved "got-cha". And when Mr. Wayne got-cha you were usually left speechless (you always have to watch out for the quiet ones.).

Mr. Wayne was also a kind man. I remember coming home one night to find a trailer in the ditch, 2 huge bales of hay burning, and Mr. Wayne, our neighbor, DeWayne, and my husband standing there watching the whole thing burn. There was no big ruckus like there would be in a city; just three men watching the hay and part of DeWayne's yard burn. If you didn't know the truth you would think it was just a curiosity. But part of what burned was Mr. Wayne's trailer. That's right. He had loaned his trailer to another farmer to haul hay, somehow the hay caught fire, and that was his burned trailer in the ditch. Evelyn Underhill said, "After all it is those who have a deep and real inner life who are best able to deal with the 'irritating details of outer life'. " Mr. Wayne had a deep and real relationship with Jesus Christ and was able to deal easily with the small, irritating things of life like a burning trailer.

That was just like Mr. Wayne. He was always willing to help. Many times he loaned equipment to folks who couldn't afford to purchase some on their own. He also helped others farm their land when they needed help. On Saturday you could here him talking about how the crops were doing at this one or that one's farm.

Mr. Wayne was also the town mayor. Granted it is only a town of 190 households (480 people) but Mr. Wayne was so respected by the community, that he was chosen as mayor year after year. He was always willing listen even if he didn't agree with you. And he was willing to "work it out" when the three aldermen had trouble agreeing on what should be done. His patience, love, and kindness made governing our little town so much easier.

Mr. Wayne loved his church family too. He was always there every time the doors were open to greet you with a smile and a handshake. He and Mrs. Carolyn were even willing to listen to me every Thursday night as I struggled to teach the book of Genesis. They were much more mature in their faith than I, but they were still open to new thoughts and ideas. You might say Mr. Wayne was forever young because it's our willingness to learn (no matter how poor the teacher) that determines our youth, not the calendar.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 5: 5: "Blessed are the gentle, for they will inherit the earth." There are lots of folks around here that have known Mr. Wayne all their lives that can tell you more about him than I can, but I do know this. When the time comes for Jesus to be handing out chunks of the New Jerusalem, Mr. Wayne will be getting a HUGE chunk of it because he was one of the kindest, gentlest people I have ever met.

I will always be thankful for the privilege of having you in my life Mr. Wayne. Godspeed.

The Bandaid Queen

One thing you will ALWAYS find around my house is a first aid kit. "Oh, for the grandkids," you might think. No, it is for ME. You see, I am an a-number-one clutz. And as if that isn't enough, I have Meneire's Disease that disturbs my equilibrium thus making it impossible to catch myself once I start to fall. I have, however, been fortunate in the fact that I have only broken something three times. I have fractured my L2 vertebra and the fifth metatarsal on each foot. With my problems that's just the breaks (groan). I have always thanked God that so far (knock on wood) that I haven't broken anything serious yet.

My family tells me that my guardian angel is always working double shifts and once he gets exhausted and fall asleep, that's when I fall and break something. Otherwise, I usually skin my knee. I have since I was quite small and unlike other people, I never grew out of it. You can hardly see my knee for all the scars!

Want to know a funny thing? It seems that the older you get, the more that skinned knee hurts! I can remember skinning my knee as a kid and because I didn't want to miss anything, I would wait until the end of the game with blood streaming down my leg before I would go home and clean it. Now, it's ,"Bring me the Neosporin, some bandaids, and a Tylenol," before I even get off the ground. Maybe that is one way to tell your are getting older...by how much it hurts when you skin your knee.

Well, this past Monday, I fell and had a very confused and frightened puppy on a leash wrapped around my foot. Not only did I skin my knee, but the contortionist act I had to do to get the puppy to unwrap himself from my foot, made me pull MANY muscles in my lower back. Another funny thing, I did not hurt either Monday or Tuesday, but Wednesday when I bent over to pick up an article of clothing I had dropped, my lower back tied itself into a knot the size of Kansas! I have been on muscle relaxers and pain medicine to try to ease whatever I did to the muscles in my back.

Oops! Guardian angel missed that one (Just kidding).

Just because bad things happen to us or a person we love does not mean that your angel is off duty. No, he's still there. How do I know this????

I know this because God has given me a promise and He ALWAYS keeps HIS promises.

Psalm 91: 11-12 promises me," For He will give His angels orders concerning you, to protect you in all your ways. They will support you with their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone."

Now before you go off half-cocked, let me explain those verses in light of what happened to me Monday. You see, I have started to fall or have fallen many times because of the Meneire's Disease and either have not hit the ground or have hit the ground and gotten nothing more than a bruise. At this point in my life, I fall AT LEAST once a week. It is emabarrassing but I am getting used to just getting up, thanking people for their concern, and moving on with my red face.

But those verses do not apply to out and out stupidity. That is what caused my fall on Monday. My husband had failed to put the vacuum back where it belongs. I had a puppy tied to my waist trying to teach him to follow me since it is too hot to walk him, and I was twisting one of those broomstick skirts, not looking where I was going, on my way out of the laundry room and into my office to get a rubber band to keep it twisted. Ah, yes, a recipe for disaster if I ever heard one. I tripped over the vacuum, failed at trying to stop the fall with the broomstick, my knee hit the carpet HARD, and the puppy, try to keep me from killing him too, ran as far as the leash would allow. Now you get the picture? "Be sure your sins will find you out," my mom always said.

The verses in Psalms do apply to each and every one of us. We will never know this side of heaven how many fatal disasters we have missed because an angel kept us from being there or sent someone to save us. I think about the man that rescued a man that had fallen on the subway tracks. Or Capt. Sully who was able to land that plane safely in the Hudson River. Or the person who detained you 5 minutes talking about nothing that kept you from being in that mult-car wreck on the interstate. You just never know.

I told my pastor yesterday, "This too shall pass." and it will. While I am waiting for the muscle spasms to stop, I will have plenty of time to love on my dogs, rest, catch up on my reading, and spend some qualaity time with my husband. Hmmmm, minus the pain, that doesn't sound too bad, does it?

The Power of a Touch

This is my yellow lab, Squirt. Yes, I am perfectly aware that she is no "squirt." I have been told by every friend, family member, solicitor, and delivery man that has come to my door unannounced. She was five months old when we rescued her and changing the name would have been too much hassle. So, she is still named "Squirt." You've got to admit that there is a certain humor in that "got-cha" moment when a person first realizes that the "squirt" is a 70lb. Labrador Retriever. At least I have enjoyed looking at the faces of those shocked to realize that the biggest dog in the house is the "squirt."

You can't tell by looking at this healthy, happy dog that she has seizures. They go untreated because our vet refuses to treat her until he sees one in progress. Well, she can go 6-12 weeks and not have a seizure and I can't afford to board her for that long. So she has been left to suffer.

That is, until I stumbled upon the most remarkable thing. Squirt had a seizure while my husband was at work. She started thrashing and while I couldn't stop the seizure, I tried to help her through it by massaging her back. Amazingly, she stopped thrashing immediately and was able to sit up. Now she still trembled as she fought against that short circuit in her brain, but she was able to regain control over her body. I have to tell you, to me it was a miraculous thing.

She had another seizure today and once again, I began to massage her back as she sat there trembling and slobbering all over me (it's okay, I don't mind doggies' slobber). But the important part is that she came through the seizure minus the trashing uncontrollably. I just think that somehow the massage makes her relax and the seizure easier to bear.

It's amazing what a simple gentle touch will do. Think about how a baby responds to the mother's touch, how a husband/wife responds to the touch of their wife/husband, how hospice and nursing home patients respond to the touch of a dog or cat, how the silent touch of a friend helps when we are at a dark, tragic place in our lives. A touch is a powerful thing among us humans, too.

The Psalmist Aseph knew the power of the Creator's touch as he wrote, "Yes I am always with You; You hold my right hand." (Psalm 73:23) David also knew the comfort of a touch, "If I live at the eastern horizon or settle at the western limits, even there Your hand will lead me; Your right hand will hold on to me." Just imagine the comfort that is available because God is willing to hold our hand. And it is even more comforting to know that, just like a loving parent, God takes my hand (when I let Him) and LEADS me in the way I should go. To me THAT'S comfort and security!

There is nothing more comforting than a human touch. When you don't know what to say or what to do, try a hug, a hand on the knee or shoulder, or holding your friend's hand. It gives the recipient the freedom to be who they are at that moment without reservation. It's like by touching them you are assuring them of your unconditional acceptance of who they are and are willing to be with them through the journey ahead. The same way God holds our right hand continuously through our journey in order to comfort and lead us.

Squirt is resting now. Just like in humans, a seizure leaves her drained. But like us, a silent touch makes her journey easier. I think I'll go pet her to remind her that I will always be there for her. It always works for me.

The "A" List

This past weekend I attended a banquet for the Tipton County Veterans' Council. It was a lovely affair and the food was even good (Don't look at me so self-righteously. You know exactly what I am talking about.) I even enjoyed meeting some of Phil's colleagues on the Council.

Our pastor is also a member of the Council. Before the banquet, one of the officers of the Council got information from him to place him on the national registry of World War II veterans. Sunday, he mentioned how honored and humbled he was that anyone was interested in his military service.

I know exactly how he feels. I have been listed more than once (see, it was so important to me that I can't even tell you how many times) in the "Who's Who of American Colleges". I also was a member of a history honor society the first time I went to college but I can't remember the Greek letter that signified its name. I was also privileged to graduate magna cum laude from college when I finally went back to school at age 30. It really is both an honor and a very humbling thing that anyone would want to honor something you did at any age.

Even celebrities have a list they desire more than most things in their lives. It is called the "A" list and if they are on it they receive lots of awards and big movie roles and can make more money on one file than you or I can even dream of making in an entire lifetime.

Of all the lists around that I could possibly on, even today. My heart's desire is to be on only one list. It's an "A" list of sorts and no matter who you are, trust me, you want to be on it. Revelation 3:5 identifies it: "In the same way, the victor will be dressed in white clothes, and I will never erase his name from the book of life, but will acknowledge his name before My Father and before his angels." Now that's what I call a list. It is a list that leads to eternal life.

How do you get on this list? Well, it really is kind of simple.

First: You must believe that you have sinned (separated yourself from God). Romans 3:23 states, "for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." The words "come short" represent an archery term meaning "missed the target." So in this way, we are all alike because we all sin every day. We miss the target.

Second: We must believe that our sin comes with a price. Romans 6:23 tells us, "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus." When you work as hard at sin as we do, we expect to be paid. God does not disappoint us. Trust me, when you work at sin you will definitely get pay from God because God never breaks His promises.

But He loves you, (yes, I said you), enough to leave you a way out. He gives you the free gift of eternal life. It's like if I gave you $1,000,000 (the going rate on most reality TV shows and you don't have to starve for 39 days) and told you I didn't want it back. Now THAT would be a free gift. No strings, no obligations, nothing. You would owe me nothing.

Third: You must give up control of your own life and allow Jesus to take over. Romans 10: 9-10 tells us how to give up control, "if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead you will be saved; for with the heart a person believes, resulting in righteousness, and with the mouth he confesses, resulting in salvation." So when Christians tell you that you have to have Jesus in your heart they mean that instead of God being your co-pilot, you allow Him to be the pilot of your life. (Just a thought. Some of these people with that bumper sticker on their cars REALLY need to scoot over and let Him drive!)

That's it. That's the whole process. Realize you are a sinner; confess your sins; accept the gift; and give God the reins.

Some people have asked me, "Why should I believe how you believe?" My answer to them is that they don't. America is a free country and you can believe as you wish. However, I want to ask you two questions. The first: What is the worst thing that can happen if I am wrong? The worst thing that could happen is that you have lived a peaceful, productive, kind life. That's a good thing. Second question: What is the worst thing that could happen if I am right? Revelation 20: 15 provides the answer, "And anyone not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire." That's pretty harsh for a loving God you say? Well, I'm afraid you have forgotten that God is also holy and just, not just loving.

So my friend, do you want to be on God's "A" list? I know that I am on it (a story for another time) and I would love it if you would join me. After all, "the more the merrier," I always say.

A Man and His Wife's Cat

I want you to meet my cat, Shadow. This is the only way you will see him. If you come to my house he will hide and you can look the house over and you'll not find him. I took him in as a very young ferrel kitten and he came preprogrammed not to trust strange people and dogs.

Notice I called him MY cat. My husband hates cats. He has hated them in the past, he hates them now, and will probably hate them in the future. The funny thing is that he seems to attract cats like a cat magnet. Whether it is Shadow or a perfectly strange cat like the ones that hang around the bed and breakfasts we like to frequent, they all want to rub up against him and try to get him to pet them.

He claims they know he doesn't like them and they are trying to drive him crazy. Well, I don't believe that. I believe that the cats sense his real gentle nature that he hides under that crusty shell he walks around with. Because they sense that gentleness, they know he is safe to approach.

My husband has softened some in his old age. Just lately, he and Shadow have begun to get along well enough that the cat doesn't run at the sight of him. In fact, Shadow allows him to pet him and my husband will actually stop voluntarily and pet the cat.

You know, Jesus was kind of like my husband. Jesus was brought up a Jew and taught all the prejudices and hatred that goes with that upbringing. But it just seemed that Jesus seemed to attract those hated by the Jews. They, also, could see his loving, compassionate nature.

For example, Mark 7:26;29-30: Now the woman was Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth [a Gentile], and she kept asking Him to drive the demon out of her daughter.... Then He told her, 'Because of this reply you may go. The demon has gone out of your daughter.' When she went back to her home, she found her child lying on the bed and the demon was gone." The Gentile were so hated that they could not enter the temple and if a Jew had contact with them, he was suppose to cleanse himself before HE could enter the temple. I wonder if the Jews thought that the Gentiles had cooties or something.

The Jew had no empathy for the sinners in their community either. The sinners were "unclean" too. In Luke 7: 36ff tells the story of a sinful woman (some say a prostitute) came to Jesus and poured fragrant oil on his feet, washed them with her tears, dried them with her hair and kissed them repeatedly. The Pharisee who invited him had offered no water to wash his feet. The Pharisee's had something to say about that, "When the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, 'This man, if He were a prophet, would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching Him- she's a sinner!'" But after conversing with the Pharisee a while longer Jesus said, "'Your faith has saved you. Go in peace."

Jews also had nothing to do with Samaritan and NEVER went to Samaria. The Samaritans were a kind of Jewish half-breed and the hatred was mutual. But Jesus kind of astounded the disciples by wanting to go through Samaria in John 4. He came to Sychar and decided to rest at Jacob's well. There was only one woman drawing water there because it was the heat of the day(water was generally drawn early in the morning or in the evening because it was cooler), and Jesus asked her for a drink. She was totally SHOCKED that He had even spoken to her more or less asked for a drink of her water. He engaged her in conversation, another shocker, and told her everything she had ever done. When the disciples showed up, they were typical Jews and were hostile to the woman, but it was too late. Jesus had touched her heart and she went through Sychar telling everyone she met about Jesus.

It's amazing isn't it. Like my husband, we grow up with certain prejudices. Then, just like with the cat, we touch it; we experience it; we "pet" it, and we find out that it is not so bad. We begin to talk to the "rejects" of society, just like Jesus, and we find that not only can we help them, we can with God's help, lead them to salvation and hope.

I believe that my husband will continue to pet the cat. A purring cat can be an addicting thing. Who knows, someday he may even let the cat sit with him (He won't even let the dogs do that). All it took was for him to reach out to the cat. The same way we need to reach out to the addicted, the convicted, the homeless, the adulterers, and the rest of the socially unacceptable and show them the same love Christ had for them. We won't be perfect, but we can keep trying until we get so used to it that we no longer harbor our pet prejudices and see them as God's creation.

Well, I need to try and find Shadow. I haven't seen him since the grandchildren came over last night. He's not in any of his usual hiding places. Maybe I'll get my husband to help me.

The DRESS

I don't know how you may feel about wearing skirts and dresses, but I have ALWAYS hated them. From the time I was five, I remember my mother having to fight me into my dress and petticoat for church on Sunday. The petticoats were sticky and itchy, particularly in the summers before air conditioning was the norm (Yes, I AM that old). There was no such thing as a sundress unless you were at the beach.

Then came elementary school and the dress was mandatory. Even if you were walking to school in the middle of the coldest winter of the century. Your mom would put a pair of corduroy pants under your dress that you had to take off immediately upon your arrival at school. Yes, we had tights, but trust me, you would rather wear the corduroys. They were warmer.

In middle school came the fishnet stockings and the garter belt (Yes, at one time they were a USEFUL piece of lingerie). In order to be able to hook the garter belt to the hose in the back you practically had to be a contortionist. You would twist yourself into a pretzel to get those silly things on and it never failed, you would pull a hole in them and have to start all over.

As I matured into high school, I was introduced to the girdle. I have always sworn that the girdle was invented by men. They were hot to wear, had all the same problems of the garter belt, AND they were hard to put on because they were RUBBER WITH STAYS (for you that don't know what stays are, they are like the whalebone in corsets and underwire in bras). We all learned very quickly to do the "girdle twist."

No one was happier than me when panty hose were invented near the end of my high school career. Of course, they were still hot and no sooner would you put them on than they would get a run and you would walk around all day with this horrible white streak down your leg for everyone to make fun of.

So I swore off dresses when I went away to college. I couldn't go to class in jeans, but I could wear pants and I did so rejoicing and praising God for my new found freedom.

Now for the past....well, let's just say it has been a REALLY long time... I have worn my pants and swore off dresses except for occasions that mandate one. I have lived unashamedly in my pants and have told my friends (and older ladies at church) that if they didn't like what they saw, don't look!

Until this summer.... I have rediscovered the usefulness of the dress and figured out why women in hot, arid deserts wear something kin to a dress. It is cooler! With temperatures reaching the mid- to- high nineties starting in June with the heat indexes from 100-115 degrees, even shorts have been hot to wearthis summer.

So yesterday I found an old knit dress I had worn years ago and decided to wear it since I wasn't going anywhere in particular. And it was amazing how much cooler and more comfortable I was. With the death of the pantyhose, the dress is amazingly comfortable!

Life is like that. We grow up not totally understanding what we are being taught and developing ideas based on our own experience and the opinions of our peers. I John 2: 1 says, "My little children, I am writing you these things so that you may not sin." In I Corinthians 13:11 Paul tells me,"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put off childish things."

We all start out like spiritual children and sometimes we come to believe things based on circumstances- like me and the dresses. But we are expected to mature as Christians and learn the Truth. We are expected to be teachable and open to the teachings of the godly men and women God puts in our lives to show us The Way. We are expected to allow the Holy Spirit to shine The Light on our path to help us continue to journey forward toward spiritually maturity.

I don't own many dresses or long skirts anymore, but I am glad I am still able to learn and experience new things. Now let's see...where did I put my keys? I think a trip to WalMart is needed in light of my new information!

The Doggie Huddle

I have heard Cesar Millan (The Dog Whisperer) say many times that you really don't get the dog you want, but the dog you need. As I watched my pack of dogs (see 7/9 post for picture) yesterday during a particularly bad thunderstorm, God revealed to me and important truth about the church.

About 3:30 pm yesterday, I had settled in my recliner to watch Jeopardy! when a REALLY BIG thunderstorm started. Now, I am not talking about your run-of-the-mill thunderstorm. I am talking about the kind with the blinding lightning, even inside, and thunder that rattles your windows (It also knocks out the satellite so I missed Jeopardy! :( )

Anyway, with no cue from me, at the first clap of thunder Buddy, the puppy, walks across the couch and comes to lie beside Sassy, the older Boston that lies in the corner section of my sectional next to me. At the same time, Squirt, the lab, came and laid down under my recliner. We were all within 12 inches of each other.

There were none of the usual signs of anxiety, i.e., panting, shaking, whining. I am not afraid of thunderstorms, after all, my weather radio had not gone off, so there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just a lot of noise and wind and lightning. By some seemingly primal instinct, our little pack gathered in one place. My assumption is that we were protecting each other but I'm not sure (I have gone to Cesar's website and asked him. I hope he answers me.)

As we sat there waiting for the storm to pass and the TV to return to my favorite show, I began to think about the church and how, when one of the body is going through a storm, we all gather around that person to comfort them. At least we should. 2 Corinthians 1:4-5 states, "He [God] comforts in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so our comfort overflows through Christ." We go through our own storms in order to mature enough to help a fellow believer or even a lost person.

Even Paul needed members of the church as he faced his final battle, "Make every effort to come to me soon...Only Luke is with me. Bring Mark with you, for he is useful to me in the ministry." (2 Timothy:4: 9a, 11). Paul called for his brothers in Christ to comfort him in the final hours before his execution.

In John 11:19 the women come to comfort Mary and Martha after the death of Lazarus. (I wonder if they brought food. Somehow we seem to think food will bring comfort.) They were there for Mary and Martha in their grief. I would imagine (in my spiritual imagination) that more than one of those women had gone through the loss of a loved one and were there to give to Mary and Martha the same kind of comfort they had received.

When I was a teenager, I heard a pastor say that fellowship is two people in the same ship. At the time I rolled my eyes thinking, "How corny can you get?" But yesterday, it all came home to me. See, I am by nature a caregiver and most caregivers NEVER ask for anything no matter how bad things are. But yesterday, my "pack" showed me the true meaning of fellowship. No one was freaking out or really even nervous. But we were all there in case another member of the pack need our comfort or protection.

That's how we the church should be. We should be as aware of one another's lives and walks with Christ, that no one should have to ask for help. We need know them the way my pack of dogs know each other and know when we need to be close to a member, not to tell them how to act, but to be available just in case they need protection and comfort as they weather their storm. Now THAT'S the meaning of fellowship.

Laundry Day

Today, my dear friends, is the day that every man, woman, college student, and some children dread every week. My friends, it is laundry day! It is that one day every week that you certainly get your exercise by picking up one load after another, hauling it to the washer, moving it to the dryer, and THEN folding it. Whew! It makes me tired just thinking about it.

You know, you wouldn't think that two people could create that much laundry. But somehow my husband and I create more laundry now than when my two sons lived at home. It is truly a puzzlement. You would think there would be less laundry, but such is not the case. It takes me ALL DAY and into the EVENING to wash clothes for two people!

You see, I have this theory. You put your dirty laundry into the hamper. While it sits there for a week, it (the dirty laundry) has this idea that when you leave the house, they are going to throw the biggest party in the world. You see, they get lonely and bored just sitting there in the hamper. Well, there aren't enough dirty clothes to make Guinness's Book of World Records, so they invite the clean laundry. The next thing you know, when laundry day comes, you have two weeks of dirty laundry instead of one because when the clean laundry mixed with the dirty laundry, it picked up the smell of the dirty laundry.

That's kind of the way it is with sin. First we look at it and it seems like fun. Then we think about it and really start to believe it IS fun. Then we think,"Oh, just once won't hurt anything. I'll just try it once but I won't do it again." After that, we're hooked because we find out it really IS fun. Next we feel ashamed that we can't seem to control this sin like we thought we could and we drop out of church (We wouldn't want anyone to know that we have this "pet" vice.) and the rest is history. We begin to move farther and farther away from God and start trying other "small sins". We have picked up that "dirty laundry smell."

The problem with all this is that there are no small sins to God. Sin is sin be it a little "white" lie or murder. It's all the same to Him.

The good news is that you are not the only one who has this problem. Even the apostle Paul had this problem. He says in Romans 7:15-18; 24-25, "For I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not practice what I want to do, but what I hate. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree with the law that it is good. So now I am no longer the one doing it , but it is sin living in me...What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with my mind I myself am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh, to the law of sin."

So if the apostle Paul had trouble controlling the sin in his body, then I guess I am in pretty good company.

However, that dirty laundry is still piled up in the corner and if I don't want my whole house to stink then I have to wash it. That is taken care of too. In Isaiah 1:8 God says, "' Come, let us discuss this,' says the Lord. 'Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they will be like wool'"

So you see, God does our dirty laundry of sin for us. And He does a better job than we do. I don't know about you, but I have done my share of accidentally having something red in my load of whites and had everything turn out pink. But not God. Even if He mixes the reds and whites, they still come out white as snow. He washes away ALL our sins. His laundry NEVER comes out pink.

Well, it's time to get back to my mountain of laundry. I think I hear my washer calling and I have to hurry before the dirty laundry decides to have another party.