Grace Thoughts

  Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint.  Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy. Psalm 61:1‭-‬3   Life is like the sea---shifting and changing from moment to moment. The waves rise up and crash to unknown depths. Stillness hushes the raging, murky waters till they sparkle like polished glass stretching out to the heavens. Beauty and terror meet in the swirling, ever-changing tides of life. I find myself swept up in this sea of life, and here I am just as changeable as the waters that toss me about mercilessly. To face this alone is to sink into the bottomless depths of despair, yet to face it as I clutch and grab for the equally shifting and changeable things around me is to hold on to impending doom. Where shall I find help to keep from sinking underneath the pounding waves of my struggles and sorrows? Where shall I find hope in the midst o...

  Your glorious presence, O Lord, is my joy I seek the light of your face These riches of glory that I find in Christ Are the sweetest gifts of your grace Your love is mine, Lord, Bought by my Savior My precious Redeemer Who poured himself out unto death Your nearness is my good An infinite treasure Indescribable pleasure Bestowed upon me by your grace JESUS IS MY JOY! And he reigns forever My marvelous Savior  My glorious King of kings O, Lord, you make me glad At the cross of my Savior, he carried my sin Yes, Jesus was crushed for me He exchanged his beauty for my filthy rags To clothe me eternally! Your love is mine, Lord, Bought by my Savior My precious Redeemer Who poured himself out unto death Your nearness is my good An infinite treasure Indescribable pleasure Bestowed upon me by your grace JESUS IS MY JOY! And he reigns forever My marvelous Savior  My glorious King of kings O, Lord, you make me glad Now the way is opened and the way is Christ Into your presence an...

(Some reflections that I found on my laptop from a couple years ago)                     When I think of the word broken , images of my kitchen covered with the debris of my 9x13 glass dish come to mind. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was in such a frantic hurry. I had just gotten home from the grocery store, and I was trying to quickly make my husband a breakfast of hard-boiled eggs. I put the eggs into a pot and filled it with cold water. Now onto the stove on the back burner. I made a mental note of the dirty 9x13 glass dish on the front burner still sitting where I had set it yesterday after pulling it from the oven. Yesterday it had been the source of culinary delight as it wafted with the lovely smells of finely cooked Tilapia (aka a quick, easy dinner of frozen fish fillets sprinkled with whatever I could find amidst the seasonings strewn about my messy kitchen as my two children fussed and cried for my att...

When the morning's silvery shadows w eigh heavy on the pilgrim soul, a  promise reaches through the weathered pages of time and through the unchangeable Word of God. "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." The words of Jesus echo in my heart. When the golden edges of dawn usher in deep shadows, fierce storms, blazing heat or dreary clouds, Christ's Words stand fast and true.   

As midnight darkness Turns into morning glory, So my soul sorrow t ells a story Written by my Savior's hand; Etched in crimson: His perfect plan. .     .     .     . Though I fall short  His grace is more. Where my feet faint,  His mercies soar. And from my weakness His grace I see, As is hands of mercy carry me.  

  Christ does plant the seeds of sorrow Where the blooms of hope shall grow. First, His hand takes up the harrow Our hearts to plow so He may sow. .     .     .     . For though His heart, with love abiding, Pushes seeds of pain and sting Deep within our soul's soil finding Wounds of grace from which His mercy springs. .     .     .     . The beauty of His grace designing Quieted hearts, His praises to sing. For from the darkness, the petals bursting See the sun shine like a king. .     .     .     . Yet first they must be lowered in death's dark prison To be prepared to meet the Son Who shed His rays of love in crimson Who reaps the harvest He's begun.

  Amidst the shimmering sunshine rays, A force so soft it wisps its way Through silent blades of dewy grass; A swirling, whirling, whispering sash. .     .     .     . It joins the chorus of the skies. A breath of wonder to arise, The sight that sees without the eyes A hush, a rush, a swirling flush Of steamy strength; the hidden blush That echoes past the singing thrush It shakes the boughs and branches tall Of towering trees---their glory falls. It hurries on a subtle call. .     .     .     . To tell the world in icy lisps, The story seen in sightless glimpse. A tugging echo---a yearning drawl: IN ALL WE SEE, WE SEE NOT ALL.

I search the darkest pools of night, For a beam of glorious light. As my soul waits in faith to see, A fragment of Your love for me. .    .    .    .    . I wait and wait and wait in vain For light to shine and love to gain. Tear filled eyes meet the earth's cold touch As doubts and fears hold me in their clutch. .    .    .    .    . Yet Grace and Truth whisper in the breeze: "Should not God's promises you seize? In this moment of faltering faith, Lean all the more upon His grace." .    .    .    .    . I listen deep and tremble more And gaze into the sky---I had before. Deepest darkness meets my eyes Swallowing up my tear filled cries. .    .    .    .    . Truth and Grace whisper once again, "Take heart, the darkness is not dark to Him. If you could gather up the night's dark folds, And hide yourself in its darkest holds; Or j...

Precious Jesus, m y soul's REFUGE, Your brilliant glory forever shines: Love unfailing---displayed at calv'ry Blood untainted---grace divine. Precious Jesus, my soul's RANSOME, Your mighty name forever saves: The lowest sinner who falls before Thee; The vilest wretch snatched from the grave. Precious Jesus, my soul's SHEPHERD, Your matchless  grace forever keeps: My heart in the lowest, darkest valley, To the highest, glorious mountain peak.

(A song for my Mother who always reminds me to "Look at the Birds") Look at the birds Watch them fly Higher and higher  Into the blue sky They neither plant Nor harvest their food But your Father in Heaven Knows what to do Daily bread O, from His loving Hand Just what they need When they need it Mercy pours a gain and again Grace today O, from His loving Heart Always on time Always enough Just look a t the birds Look at the birds Hear their songs Filling the darkness With hope for the dawn And even if one Of the sparrows should fall Your Father in Heaven He knows it all Every day Written in His book Every sorrow And every joy Comes through  His Hand Every Tear In His heart h eld dear For He is close To the broken and crushed Just look a t the birds Look at the birds See their nest A home of wood  And hay f or rest You may wonder Why now t hey have more Know your Father has Much more in store Heavenly rest For He prepares Your home At the Golden Shore Who could ask for mor...