Zedekiah's Cave!

I love a good mystery!

I found out at my recent garage sale, not everyone does. Loving a mystery writer who provides stories in a series, I provided all of my M.C. Beaton, Ann Purser, and various other Scottish and British writer series for sale. Nothing was moving. Finally, a police car pulled into our driveway. I thought there is no way a police officer wants to read about mysteries after dealing with such all day long. Much to my surprise, he pulled me aside and told me his wife ran a book club for those who loved mystery books, and would I consider selling several at reduced price?
Thrilled to find such kinship in a neighbor, I gave him as many as he could carry.

Oh, I know, many of you may think it is just brain candy. As a former English teacher, I have read the "deep-thought-provoking-humanity-revealing" books. I have joined book clubs and discussed the philosophical implications as well as judged literary techniques used in various passages.

Yet, I have to admit, for this time of life, I just enjoy sitting down to a well written mystery book and trying to solve the crime before the author reveals it. I have gone back to my childhood days where I started with Nancy Drew and read under the covers with a flashlight long after my mother told me to go to bed. The Tin Tin graphic novel series even thrilled me (and I am ecstatic to learn Spielberg is going to release the movie this winter)!

Yes, I love a good mystery. That is why today's headline on the internet news drew my attention.

The picture is of King Zedekiah's cave in Jerusalem. It seems this cave leads to an ancient city underneath the busy streets of Jerusalem. Archeologist are discovering more and more tunnels and evidence of a Jewish city. People can walk under the streets and see it for themselves and come out miles later into a busy shopping area above ground.

It was named after King Zedekiah tried to hide in the cave from the siege of the Babylonians. The caves supposedly date back to King Solomon.

Something hidden underneath. A mystery waiting to be uncovered.

I like that.

I believe that is so much like God to me.

I can forget His mystery and depend so easily on what I see, what I experience, what my senses tell me while all along He is working in, about, around, and under me, unseen.

I am going to rely on that Unseen Hand of Love and Protection this week.

How about you? Are you enjoying the mystery of God this week?

I pray you are.

For His glory,
Gretchen

This One is for You, Dad. Memorial Day...

Every Memorial Day, my father went to the Herrin City Park where the Doughboy statue was and stood with his hand over his heart as taps were played and guns fired in the air in memorial of those who gave their lives for their country.

I can still see him standing there. I can still see the soldier statue. I see the white haired men in white shirts, black pants, hats indicating Veterans, shouldering fierce looking guns.

The CRACK! of the gun shots in the air always shocked me as a child even though I knew it would happen.

Dad rarely talked about his experiences in WWII. He saw horrific events. I do know that he could not watch any comedies on television or at the movies about war. He hated war. I remember one night watching an old sitcom called, "Hogan's Heroes." It was a very popular comedy show in the 70's about prisoners of war always trying to escape. One German guard kept saying, "I see nothing! I see nothing!" whenever he stumbled on yet another plan of escape or espionage.

Dad disliked that show greatly. He said POWs experienced no humor.

One day Dad finally wrote about his experience. He had to fly into the concentration camps at the end of the war for commanding officers who were documenting the Nuremberg trials. Sometimes he came just as people were being freed.

I came close to understanding his silence about the War after reading one of his accounts. His reason for sharing his stories was because he was afraid. He was afraid people would forget. People would forget how cruel man could be, was.

I told him I wouldn't forget. As a teacher, I shared his stories with my students. Every year 120 students heard his story as I prepared them for the study of Ellie Wiesel's NIGHT. Over 1000 students heard his story.

It wasn't just his story though. It was man's story. The story of loss, hatred, cruelty, suffering, and sacrifice.

Those scenes haunted my father. I know survivors of war, whether WWII, Korean, Vietnam, Iraq, Afgahnistan, and yes, the World Trade Towers... all have witnessed the cruelty of man and must be haunted by the impact of evil.

So this weekend many gather around the statue of the UNKNOWN SOLDIER or replicas around the country and see the flag and hear the CRACK! of guns.

-And I think of healing that comes from another greater sacrifice. I think of Rome where another statue stood. -One to the UNKNOWN GOD. I am reminded how the disciple Paul shared with the Greeks and Romans who that UNKNOWN GOD was and how healing comes from his son, Jesus.

My Dad is no longer with me. He is not in the Herrin cemetary though either. He is with the Prince of Peace where no evil has power. He is healed from painful sights and memories. He is filled with God's love and working for a much better kingdom. May God's peace that can only come from Jesus fill each survivor's heart today as well as our soldiers' families.

In Memorial....

For His Glory....
Gretchen

Last Day, First Day

Today was quite a day for most of us in the Midwest again. My daughter and I spent three hours yet again in the basement. It was a scary way to start the first day of vacation.

You see today was the last day of school for her and also her official first day of vacation.

As I watched the tornadoes and storms on the television from our basement sanctuary, I realized today was also the last day for the Oprah Show. While silly even to think about it, I did wonder how her show was wrapping up after two star-studded days of Chicago saying goodbye to her. I wondered what last words she would say to her audience to wrap up her 25 years of becoming a media mogul. (Please, realize we were in the basement for several hours.)

After the sirens stopped and the all clear given, and after I once again thanked God for keeping our home and neighbors safe, (not one person was injured in St. Louis today in spite of terrible storms and cloud walls forming with "hooks." Not one hook stayed on the ground! Baseball-sized hail did not injure any drivers or children going home from school! Praise God!)I went on the wonderful internet to see what Oprah had to say.

I wasn't very impressed. I guess I haven't been impressed for some time. Oprah seems to have lost her way somehow. She seems to accept all paths leading to God, much like Rob Bell's latest book. I listened as Oprah provided her own wisdom for the audience "teaching her media classroom" one last time.

Today was also the last chance for words of wisdom for my daughter from her school teachers and principals. I listened during her last chapel service, pleased with what I heard, but it was what I didn't hear that impressed me most.

Her teacher was crying and hugging the kids. She was truly touched as she hugged each child. These were not just misty-eyed tears either. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She was going to miss them. My daughter felt that and marveled at how much this teacher cared about her.

That was the best goodbye speech one could ever hear, wasn't it? I mean to know someone loves you and will miss you, that you actually mattered in that life, WOW! what a strong message for a child!

Tonight was another last moment, the finalist for American Idol was announced. My daughter and I curled up on the couch to watch it together. (Yes, we switched channels for the obcene and hedonistic Lady Gaga portrayal of sex. Sad to need attention that much to offend children and families watching, isn't it?)
The ending song was not that great, but I did like the final message by the winner, Scotty, when he said first and foremost, I have to thank the Lord who brought me here. Then he hugged each and every member of his family and each and every member of the cast as he tried to sing the final song. It was a bit awkward because he couldn't sing it very well as he hugged and patted folks on the back, yet I found it a touching and classy last moment.

So, I wonder about Lasts and Firsts. We've had a lot of publicity about the LAST DAY, the RAPTURE coming. We know it didn't happen, of course, since I am writing and you are reading.

-Yet I can't help but wonder about the last moment for our earth, especially as I try to study the book of Revelation. What will be my last moment? Will I be mid-sentence griping about the traffic light, about my daughter not picking up her room, about my diet, about the car, about taxes, about....

Perhaps it is what I don't say that will be most impressive, like my daughter's teacher. My last act I hope is one of compassion and caring.

I don't want to be like Oprah. (Sorry, Oprah fans.) I don't want to think I have the answers and feel the need to leave my words of wisdom to those who may listen. I don't want to have to have people cheering or screaming like American Idol either.

I just want to be able to give a hug and let those around me know they are loved.
Why?
--Because that is all I hope to have each day from those I meet.

How about you? What is important to you for your last day which will also your first day? I hope you are giving someone the knowledge that he/she matters and is loved.

For His Glory,
Gretchen

The Sign, The Sirens, The Helmet and Shield

That sign sums it up regarding the prophecy made recently about the end of the world.

On the other hand, that same day, hundreds of Missourians had to deal with another sign, the signs of tornados once again reeking chaos and havoc and disaster.

Forty-seven times tornados have touched lives in Missouri since New Year's Eve. Many have learned to heed the siren warnings.

Sadness is evident everywhere I go.

-Even to the dentist office this morning. As my dentist prepared to clean my teeth, he shared how his relatives had been in Joplin on their deck having a normal BBQ only to look up and see a tornado racing toward their home at 30 miles an hour.

They barely had time to throw themselves into the basement before their house was torn to shreds.

That night, crawling out of the rubble, they searched for their friends, friends of many years, friends since high school. They could not find their neighbors.

Such Sadness.

My dentist commented, "News doesn't mean much until it hits your own family. It is hard to know what to do with it."

Ironically my daughter's last memory verse for her school year is from Ephesians. God tells us how to deal with hard times, with Satan, with evil, with sadness, with life on this earth. We must put on the full armor of God and STAND FIRM. The helmet of salvation reminds us of God's love and ultimate plan for us as good and not evil.

My heart is with those in Joplin. I can not imagine their pain and suffering.

God can though.

He has been through it all.

He did it for us.

Join me, won't you, in praying for those grieving. Let's also pray for protection for those hurt and for all in the Midwest facing yet more storms today and the rest of this week.

For His Glory,
Gretchen

Still Here! Hoping You are, too!

Surprise!

I'm still here!

Nope, the rapture did not happen!

The end of the world did not happen!

Did I expect it to happen?

Not really.

As a child, though, when I first heard about the end times and the Rapture of the Church and Believers, I admit I became afraid. I never felt certain Jesus would take me home with Him before the tribulation. I always felt I wasn't good enough, or that my sins of that day would keep me out of heaven.

I know better now, thanks to the Bible. -But I tell you as a child whenever the house became too still, or when I could not locate Mom or Dad immediately (they were usually in the back yard), I pictured the Rapture occurring and imagined I had been left behind to be on my own.

Recently I shared with you how one atheist decided to capitalize on the recent rumors of the end of the world or rapture by offering to dog sit for people who go to heaven and leave their pets behind with the non believers.

While laughing about that paradox, I was amazed at the attention this proclamation of END TIMES received.

Didn't people read the Bible? It does give us a glimpse of our ending but teaches very clearly that we will NOT know when Christ will return, not the day nor hour. In fact, He could return in the blink of an eye.

It reminds me of a baby I watched at the Missouri Botanical Gardens today. There is a play area where the water pops up in unexpected streams soaking delighted children eager to cool down from the heat and humidity of the Midwest.

One mother took off the shoes and socks of her just-learning-to walk-son and set him free on the liquid obstacle course. All of us laughed as he was surprised by the first blast of water. Our entertainment continued as the baby became determined with his chubby hands to grab the water and control it. As soon as he did, the water disappeared much to his confusion and frustration.

Like the baby, we can not predict the timing of Christ's return. There are signs that the time is closer. That is evident in Revelation. -But to give the exact day and hour is like the baby trying to hold the streams of water tightly in his fists.

I do look forward to Jesus returning. I look forward to seeing my mother and father and grandparents once again knowing we will never be separated. I look forward to having all of my faults and pride and problems gone forever. I look forward to being enveloped in Jesus' love.

I look forward.

How about you? Did you think of today's possibilities with dread or excitement?
Hope you join me in looking forward.

For His glory,
Gretchen

There's Been a Change to Your Flight Schedule...

The dreaded e-mail came today. After planning since last October for a once-in-a-lifetime family trip to Hawaii, I received a notice of flight changes.

I was relying on frequent flyer points and had booked flights months in advance. Connecting flights are necessities in St. Louis, and I admit some lay-over times are going to be crunched in trying to make it on time.

I was feeling pretty good though as our dream vacation approached.

Then the e-mail notice. "There has been a change to your flight schedule. Please, contact this number for further information and assistance."

Next to the number was information about "guest services." Clicking on that, I read all the worst-case-scenarios: what to do if you have been bumped, cancelled, reasonably delayed....the list went on and on.

Panic hit me. I quickly dialed the number.

"Your business is very important to us. We are experiencing numerous calls, however, and your call will be addressed in the order it was received. We estimate an agent will be with you in 25 minutes."

25 minutes? I am supposed to sit on the phone to find out what changed for that long?

I had my husband go to his own cell phone while I was on hold and try to call yet another number only to hear him receive an automated menu. When trying to skip all the automated choices by saying AGENT, the menu recorder responded with GOODBYE.

Whew, talk about frustrating. So while waiting for 27 minutes on the phone for an agent, I decided to vent my frustration and panic by writing a letter of complaint to the GUEST SERVICES that appeared as a choice on my monitor.

I hit send before praying.

What a test I had experienced, and I failed miserably! I mean so what if I had spent the day driving in mud and rain to the Daniel Boone home field trip for my daughter's 3rd grade class? So what if two of the little darlings had stepped in horse manure and climbed on TOP of my cloth car seats leaving the odor ground in to the car? So what if I had to rush from the field trip, driving another 55 minutes for my daughter's orthodontist appointment only to have him see her for a full five-minutes tops and hear him say, "Looks fine. Come back in 8 weeks."

None of that matters. It is no excuse to expect to be treated better. Nancy Leigh De Moss's Gratitude Devotional book talks about the trap of feeling we have the right to be treated better, and as a result, complain, complain, complain.

On the way back from the orthodontist, I started praying aloud in front of my daughter, asking for forgiveness. I started thanking God for the rain, the mud, the smell, my car, the dentist, the drive. As I did the thankful list changed to thanks for the ability to drive, the fact no one was hurt in the rain or mud, the fun the kids had playing charades and hangman with each other on the drive, the lessons learned, the fact that my daughter's teeth were doing fine....I started feeling better. Then I got home.

Walking into my home, a light bulb crashed shattering tiny shards of glass all over the floor as my dog, soaked from the muddy backyard (I did mention it was NOT supposed to rain today when I left that morning for the field trip?), bounded into the house leaving tracks throughout and jumping excitedly upon me.

Well, I guess I am needing a lot of practice on this being thankful thing and attitude in general.

What about you? Has your flight, day, life, schedule ever been delayed or changed? If so, how are you handling it?

I hope better than I. And yes, by the way, I did get through to an agent only to find they merely changed flight numbers, not the schedule as indicated. For that, I am truly thankful. :-)

For His Glory,
Gretchen

Talking to the Devil

Today's blog is about talking to the devil. I know the picture above is the Tasmanian Devil from Bugs Bunny, but I just couldn't put any of the pictures of Satan on my blog. So I hope you don't mind the cartoon instead.

I had the opportunity to hear yet another humorous story this morning while studying the book of Revelation. (By the way, thanks, Becky, for your encouragement in studying this amazing book in the Bible!)

It seems a preacher found in an airport $20,000 stacked and bound as hundred dollar bills. Going to turn it in, he saw a shabbily dressed character coming his way. The man asked if the preacher had found his money. After asking for specifics, the preacher gave the money to the man. Without even a THANK YOU, the man turned and quickly walked away from the preacher.

When the preacher got into the cab, he said the devil got in with him. The devil started whispering to him what a fool he had been. It was obvious the money must have been for or from a questionable purpose. It would have been better to have kept the money for himself and lied to the man.After all, he didn't even get a thanks from the man. The man had more money than the preacher could ever have in his work.

The preacher started talking right back at Satan. "Look what I have though! I have the gift of life!"

The cab driver looked in the rear view mirror, and said, "What? Did you say something to me?"

The preacher said, "No, I was just talking to the devil." The cab driver kept an eye on his strange passenger the rest of the way to their destination thinking he surely had a crazy man in his car.

The point of the true story was to warn us as Christians not to be envious of the world, especially the world of Babylon in Revelation. Money, power, easy life, fame...all of these "things" will be amassed by the Anti-Christ and his followers in the end times.

We don't have to wait for the end times to be tempted though. I am reading Daniel at the same time. Daniel was taken from his homeland and brought to Babylon as well. He was told to eat from the king's table and drink the king's wine. He was given a new name after the gods of the new country. Daniel, a young man at the time, refused to give in to the new culture in order to prosper. His faith never failed. He knew sin would never succeed. His God, THE God, was greater than the powerful ruler who overthrew his homeland. He trusted this in spite of all that surrounded him.

I began to wonder upon hearing this and reading about Babylon as well as about Daniel, when the last time was I really argued against the Devil? When did I actually, physically say, "NO!" to him? Have I been listening to the subtle whispers he offers as he tempts me to anger, to envy, to depression, to sin?

If so, it is time to speak out to him now, and I do so with Scripture as Jesus demonstrated we should do when Satan tempted Him:

Isaiah 61: He has sent me to preach the message of salvation to the poor, to bind up the brokenhearted, to release from darkness the prisoner and to set the captive free.

Jesus is freeing me from the temptations of my own "Babylons." Satan, you must flee! You have no power over me or mine! Jesus has given me victory in Him. Praise, God!

How about you? When is the last time you confronted Satan? You know he is real, cunning, and seeking ways to keep you from God's love and peace and from ministering to others, don't you?

Let's rejoice today that Jesus is the Victor today as I write and in the end times; so says Revelation!

For His Glory!
Gretchen