*Leaning on the Breast of Our Savior*

Now there was leaning on Jesus’ bosom one of His disciples, who Jesus loved.”
John 13:23 KJV

Let us go deeply into the portrait of that supper, the last meal our Lord shared with His beloved disciples. As we enter the most intimate scene of human history, do our hearts pound and become full to almost bursting? For we are beginning to experience the magnitude, and depth, and power of being in the presence of Perfect Love. Does our breathing become more rapid or does it stop for fear that even one exhale might disturb the sacred scene before us? Do we sense the immediacy of the passing moments as they fulfill their appointed time?

Now, our eyes fix on Him, the One Who is Perfect Peace, the One upon Whose bosom His beloved disciple leans. Dare we intrude!? Can we even think, with our finite minds, the infinite sensation of receiving the Love being given as that one leans on the breast of his Master and friend? What is this loyal follower sensing through the rise and fall of his Lord’s breathing? Do we have the right to hear, as this one does, the very heartbeat of Jesus? Do we have the right to draw near to the One Whose lifeblood did spill on that Good day to conquer death, hell, and the grave?

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all–how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? …Christ Jesus, who died–more than that, who was raised to life–is at the right hand of God and interceding for us. ~~ Romans 8:32,34 NIV

…neither death nor life…neither a power from on high nor a power from below, nor anything else in God’s whole world has any power to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord!
Romans 8:38,39 J. B. Phillips

Our Lord beckons us to draw near to Him. He beckons us to lean hard upon His breast.

“Child of my love, lean hard
And let me feel the pressure of thy care…
Thou are not near enough,
I would embrace thy care;
So I might feel My child reposing on my breast.

Thou lovest Me?
I knew it. Doubt not then;
But loving Me, lean hard.”
~~Anonymous~~

“Appalling”

How is it to be understood?  How can one explain it?  We all know that many important situations and issues occupy the minds of those who operate the print media of Rockingham County.  But, really!  Incredulous!  Embarrassing!  Shameful!   And to quote every actor who has portrayed, on stage, King Mongut, in that well-loved and long-running stage adaptation of Margaret Landon’s, Anna and the King of Siam c.1944:  “…most unscientific.” This reader believes that the absence of print notices informing news readers in this county about the lunar eclipse was… most unscientific, indeed, and a lost opportunity to report an event that would cause some groovy anticipation in the minds of the regular, loyal readers.

At those times when King Mongut used that exclamation, “most unscientific,”  he talked of many different and interesting subjects.  He also said that he thought Moses must have been a fool (just a little added trivia) and most unscientific.

I wonder if King Mongut would have labeled a total eclipse of the moon, scientific?  I also wonder where were the notices in the Reidsville Review and The Reidsville Free Press that could have told us to go outside last night and look up.  The fact that they didn’t is, to me, incredulous, appalling, embarrassing, etc.  A LUNAR ECLIPSE!  One of those events that occurs independently of man’s  touch or tweaking.   His hands are completely off.  He can capture the lovely and alluring event with his technology.  A likeness?  Semblance?  In real time?  But he cannot alter the celestial phenomenon one nano-bit, not one. Knowing that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Okay, then.  There are many accounts of the lunar eclipse along with some mind-blowing photographs for our viewing pleasure on other news websites.  Maybe next time, Reidsville.

Vicki Herndon

*The Magnet Truck*

Okay.  I’m going to have to fess up. I thought there was a magnet truck that picked up washing machines, dryers, etc.  I just knew there was a huge circular magnet that attached to the big hydraulic arm of the grabber truck.  “Viola” a magnet truck. 

But, my husband put enough doubt into my brain so that I was forced to call the “Reidsville City Of” – Streets Supervisor, Mr. McNeil.  Mr. McNeil kindly and generously confirmed that there was, indeed, no magnet truck.  We had a very nice conversation.  In other words, he indulged me.

Mr. McNeil told me that the hydraulic arm and the grabber were all one piece.  That would mean that the workers would not be able to take off the grabber in order to attach the magnet – the magnet that doesn’t exist.  I must admit that I was very disappointed.

Just think…If there really were a magnet truck that picked up washing machines, dryers, etc. the folks in West Virginia could use one.  That way, people wouldn’t be able to make so many jokes about them.

Alrighty then.  That’s my story.
Peace ~Vicki~
P.S.  While I was at Baptist Hospital having a lumbar puncture (spinal tap) my ex-neurologist was telling me West Virginia jokes!  I kid you not.  Everybody knows how still you are supposed to be when you’re having a spinal tap.

*(untitled)*

Caught a glimpse.
Oh, God,
everyone wants to.

We could sneak
right in there.
An escape?
Its not gonna be that way.

*from my prayer book*

“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil.  For if they fall, one will lift up the other.”                                                                                                             ~Ecclesiastes 4:9-19

“The wires are holding hands around the holes:

To avoid breaking the ring, they hold tight the

neighbouring wrist,

And it’s thus that with holes they make a fence.

Lord, there are lots of holes in my life.

There are some in the lives of my neighbours.

But if you wish we shall hold hands

We shall hold very tight

And together we shall make a roll of fence to adorn

Paradise.”

~Michel Quoist, “The Wire Fence”

“God’s gift of community is a beautiful and purposeful design of interdependence – of helping and being helped.  Since it is a gift; however, community will never happen unless we first reach out to receive it.”

~Peace~

Vicki

*untitled*

I’m reading a book called, Jesus Mean and Wild.

*What’s Up With Me*

A lot! But I won’t go into the specifics. I can tell you that my illness has progressed so that I can hardly sit at our computer desk.

 

Fear not! I have been promised a lap-top for Christmas, if not before. I fairly suspect that that gift will change my life, and to God be the glory.

 

Did I hear someone say, “Amen!”?

 

P.S. This morning, I walked to the mailbox. The weather is glorious.

 

Peace,

~Vicki~

PRAY

There can be no other word in the English language that, when pronounced, sounds as beautiful as the word, “pray.”

“Pray without ceasing.”

Peace

~Vicki~

(Untitled)

The sounds of barking dogs seem to penetrate the air that surrounds me and follow any path or many paths at will.  The air feels more dense or maybe closer – as if moving more protectively around me in its knowledge that fall is approaching.  (A deeper knowledge than mine is at work here.)  The barking is beginning to sound closer too – as if its freedom to bound through the air unabated is now limited, but not imprisoned.  It is ordered – no chaos allowed. 

I, too, feel fall approaching.

Today was a very fine day.  Having nothing to do with my circumstances nor the occurence of events that touch my life.  Creation, as far as my senses were free to take me, displayed a very fine day, indeed.

Parsing for Santification

On the Christian’s way toward sanctification, I believe it becomes necessary to parse (separate into parts in order to inspect) one’s own behavior.
We must examine motive, means, our thinking, and desires which together interrelate to produce the fruit of our hearts. For we pilgrims know that our outward behavior is totally dependent upon the condition of our hearts.
All that we say, in words and/or attitude, and all that we do or leave undone—our fruit—expose to the eye of our own parsing the maturity of our sanctification.
Peace and Happy Parsing,
Vicki