When Less, Plus More, Equals Divine Appointments

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Less five-minute-fixes,
More hours spent studying the Word,
=God’s divinely assigned appointments.

Less hip-hop, quick pop secular mixes,
More worship and praise songs for the Lord,
=God’s divinely assigned appointments.

Less feel good tickle the ears sermons,
More from the Scripture tell – it – true teachings,
= God’s people ready for divinely designed assignments.

Less modern day entertainment souring minds like lemons,
More Godly focused, make – the – right decisions viewings,
= God people ready for divinely designed appointments.

Less of everything that is a possible distraction,
More eyes focused on Jesus, solely on Him,
= More divinely created point-to-Jesus appointments.

Less of all I could replace God with as a distraction,
More determination to be sold out for Him,
= More seeds sown, more harvests reaped and divinely designed appointments.

The One Thing That Counts

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It’s not the words I write
Or the books I read
It’s not the things I say,
On any given day.

My testimony comes not in song,
But the way I act with my adversaries.
How do I treat those who hate me?
Do I respond with kindness as Christ said it should be?

The true measure of who I am,
Is found in my actions in face of dissatisfaction.
It’s easy to be nice, tender and sweet,
When the world’s your oyster, your favorite treat.

Harder is the road to respond with thanksgiving,
When you’ve lost it all and you’re left grieving.
How I respond to unexpected tragedies stakes,
That tells you if I’m the real thing or fake.

Make fun of my size; it’s really alright ,
Doubt my pain, the crease in my brow.
Question my motives even my faith,
But in the end is my name down as saved?

I’ll always have Jesus center of my heart,
Nothing or no one can rip us asunder,
I’m in the palm of His hand since the day I knew,
That He was God the Father, God the Son & Holy Spirit that blew.

Doubt my decisions and peel open my doubts,
But answer this question before you announce,
As I’ve stumbled through this life messing up as I go,
Did I point you to Jesus or point you to you?

When I kneel before Jesus waiting to be judged,
May my life have stood strong, the message loud.
My heart and my life agreement in one,
I’ve based my life on God the Father, the Spirit and Son.
                d.f.a.v.  4/19/15
—Donna

Garden of Fruit of the Spirit

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Love fell on the garden at sunrise,
Joy opened its singing petals first.
Peace blew about the most fragrant breeze,
While Patience bloomed pretty as you please.

By the fence Kindness and Goodness entwined,
Faithfulness grew rosy and ripe.
From the trees Gentleness waited to be harvested,
As Self-control bloomed where it had been rooted.

Over the gardens hand-crafted archway,
The sun illuminates the gardens name,
The Fruits of the Spirit it reads in the dawn,
As those who come walk across the lawn.

Who will walk in the garden at first light?
Harvest the fruits that they need?
Ready for you when your work is done,
Come harvest fruit with the Son.
                d.f.a.v.  4/16/15
—Donna

The fruits of the spirit are listed in Galatians 5:22-23.

Heaven’s Broken Heart

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Is the only broken heart in Heaven Your’s, Lord?
Are You the only one who weeps at our pain?
The One we reject?
Show no respect?
Are You the One in tears for our self-made pain?

Though billions of souls are there praising You?
Though angels sing glory to Your every name?
Does Your heart have a hole?
‘Cause we are so bold?
Though billions of others praise Your name?

There shouldn’t be any sadness in Heaven.
No anguish of any hearts over there.
Do You bear Your burden alone,
In our Heavenly home?
So those gone don’t know what’s going here?

Is the only broken heart in Heaven Your’s, Lord?
Do you look down on earth and cry for us all alone?
The Cornerstone builders reject?
Whose sacrifice we neglect?
While You call, “My children come home! Come home.”

Then Lord, I propose our hearts should break too,
By the very same things that so disturb you,
We too should cry,
At the cost of our tries,
At all the things that so grieve you.
               -d.f.a.v. 4/15/15 for 4/16/15
—Donna

Cottage by the Sea #10 4-15-15

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Abba Father: Let those who read this understand none of us have tomorrow promised to us.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 has been my favorite scripture passage since I was fifteen/sixteen years old.  “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die,…”  So pass the seasons of our lives.  Everything in its appointed time as God sees fit.

The only difference between you and me today is that doctors have told me my season for living is approaching the season of death at a faster pace than “your average bear”.  The prognosis hasn’t been expressed as “six months, or a year…”  Because no one knows.  

Recently, at the ripe old age of 51, I was admitted to Hospice care.   At that time, I was told it was simply to enable me to get the longer term care I needed.  Only within the last couple weeks did that change.  I haven’t been able to make this public knowledge until now because I needed time to wrap my head around it myself.  And I wanted my siblings to know first. Now that the reality is laid out there I’m left with the need to tell the rest of my “world”. My extended family, friends and former co-workers.

So the why? My heart disease, caused by one too many blood clots passing through to my lungs, is predictable.   What isn’t is the Lymphedema.   My Lymphedema is a one-in-a-billion case.  Advancing aggressively and now causing every area of my body to swell, it forces my heart, functioning at 20% in the right ventricle, to work harder.  Lymphedema has no cure and available treatments cause more damage than they help me.

I expect to be here for a good bit of time yet.  As I’ve always told our daughter, I now tell you, as long as it is my choice I will remain here.

So now you know.  I ask your continued prayers for my family and me, the arrest and even remission of the Lymphedema and GOD’S WILL not my own to be accomplished.

I’m not brave, or strong, or an example.   I am one woman, with one faith in one God who understands the question isn’t, “Why me” but “Why NOT me”?  To God be the glory any that comes.

 

In my daily devotional Monday morning I came upon this quote by David C. McCarand on I Peter 5:7.  “Our goal should not be to see how many years we can live but instead to live fully in loving service to the Lord for all the years we are given.”

Let it be.

 

—Donna

Final Words

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Regardless of how someone passes.
There are attempts to sum up their life,
In one phrase.

Some would say the saddest,
Would be:
“Lots of unfinished business, that one.”

Others think those saddest words,
Would be,
“Maybe they’re happy now. They never were here.”

Still others imagine those saddest words,
Would be:
“They died unloved and alone.”

But I submit that the saddest,
Final words would be:
“Are they in Heaven or Hell?”

How about you?
                    d.f.a.v.  4/9/15
—Donna

BIBLE

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Read the Bible through many times.
Each time something different grabs my mind.
Like how the Old and New Testament fit together,
Or God’s love for us goes back and forward forever.
The names of people, places, things,
His hand is visible in the design of everything.
Ichabod, Rufus, Noah the girl stood out.
God is love but sin isn’t tolerated, no doubt.
The holiness, sacredness, mystery and wonder,
The Word indeed sweeter than honey creates deeper hunger.
Oh, so much I’ll never understand,
He was fully God and fully man.
Let me study and apply His Word morning, noon and night.
God’s Word, my steady guiding light.
d.f.a.v. 4/9/15
—Donna

We’re Born, We Die

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We are all born.
Coming into this world,
Someway…
Somehow…
One night or,
One day.

God knows us,
In our mother’s womb.
Knit together…
Knitted well…
Woven into,
God’s plan.

If born we live,
Our hearts beat.
Lungs breathe…
We feel…
How long,
Not our design.

We all die,
Slipping from here.
In many ways…
Different times…
Once born, once die,
Eternity?

We’re all told,
Truth illuminates,
The choice…
Ours alone…
Heaven or hell?
Which will it be?
          d.f.a.v.  4/7/15
—Donna

Cottage by the Sea #9

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Abba Father, Master of the Sea:

Out at dawn,
Roll at the edge,
Waves meet sand,
Unpredictable sea.

We must engage,
We must interact,
It will set me free.
Here by the sea.

Driftwood and shells,
A foaming spray,
A rising sun.
Pure majesty.

A blush begins,
Horizon lights,
A masterpiece,
First strokes begun.

Layer upon layer,
The color applied,
A sight subtle, bold,
A beauty quiet.

‘Til the sea and sky,
A duet sings,
The sunrise rises,
Sea reflect the skies.

Here I am, Lord,
So very small,
Reveal Yourself to me,
Here by the Sea.

Clean my soul,
Free my heart,
Forgiveness please,
My soul, Your art.

Sunrise in glory full,
It takes my breath,
You return it to me,
Beside the sea.

Your masterpieces,
Are all around,
You’re here with me,
By the sea.

Thank You Lord,
Amen, amen.
           d.f.a.v.  4/7/15
—Donna

Sunday Came

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The cross is dark,
Against the dawn.
Just the long beam
Stands guard alone.
The dew is wet,
Atop the lawn.
Soul weary women,
Plod on and on.
Garden tombs dark,
Shadows up ahead,
The stone, who will move?
It’s the task they dread.
A brilliant light,
An angel within said,
“Why seek the living,
Among the dead?
Chrisit has risen,
Just like He said.
Go tell the others
He lives instead.”
An empty cross,
An empty grave,
An invitation,
The gift He gave.
Will you accept it?
The sacrifice made?
For your redemption,
The price is paid.
Come one and all,
Kneel, confess, receive
The sacrifice given,
Do you believe?
             -d.f.a.v.  4/6/15
—-Donna