I’m not the Bible scholar I should be. I know some verses; not as many as I ought. Still, I find most of my experiences can be framed or underscored, explained or illuminated, by Scripture. Or maybe a hymn or a worship song, a devotional or a testimony. Frequently, I have those “Oh, yeah” moments when I see God clearly in an event. Or realized that I should have seen Him.
These are the moments of “The Bible tells me.”
These essays reflect that. Do know that I can proof-text as well as anyone. I have a concordance, and I know how to use it. Well, truthfully, I do all of that online now, where I can quickly find a passage, see it in many versions, and choose the one I like best. I try not to be narrow, but instead broad, as I apply Bible words to my experiences. I know that your interpretations and understanding may be different than mine. But I also know that our God is big enough for all of us.
I have a friend who, in her prayer time, likes to tell jokes to God. “I know He knows the punch line,” she says. “But I tell them anyway. He likes it when I laugh.”
He likes it when I laugh. I’m going to hang on to that. It’s Biblical. The Bible tells me.
Our mouths were filled with laughter then,
and our tongues with shouts of joy.
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord had done great things for us;
we were joyful.
Psalm 126: 2,3 (HCSB)
I was at Drug Emporium on Sunday afternoon, and the big display of Halloween candy had been stripped and a few rows of Christmas candy had been put out. At Wal-Mart, Christmas decorations are stacked and hung. You know what that means! Thanksgiving is just around the corner!
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Look what’s happening in my yard!
I know that this isn’t going to mean much to those of you who don’t live in Texas or other fall-delayed places, who, for example, may have had snow last week.
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The Container Store. I guess, to those of you who don’t have one near you, or those of you who abhor shopping, those words don’t mean anything. And maybe if I had one, here in Waco, the draw might not be as strong, but almost every time I go to Fort worth, (or Austin or Dallas, or any other place that has one), it’s often (no, not absolutely always, just pretty often) on my list of places to go. It’s a store that sells goods that are designed to help you be/become organized. And it’s fabulous!!
When I walk through a Container Store, I just feel that “I can be organized. I can have control of all parts of my life. I can do this!” And I’m bad about going there, even when I don’t have something in particular I need to purchase. I’m willing to just walk up and down the aisles and find something that I need very badly to help me organize my house, my garage, my room, my stuff, my life. And there’s always something I want. Not necessarily something I need, but always something I want. And that’s the problem.
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You have to be pretty sturdy, plantwise, to make it at my house. That goes for both indoor and outdoor varieties. I know God made a wonderful world, and He loves it. When I get to Heaven, if I have to account for every living thing (plants, aquarium fish) that have died at my hands, I’m in big trouble.
I’m completely taken in by the beauty of nurseries that I visit. Despite my relatively poor track record with plants, I walk through those lush places and my heart says, “I can do this, too.” My brain struggles to be heard. “NO! No you can’t!”
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I was on a trip, driving for three days, and one of my overnight stops was with some friends. As I turned into their driveway, the whole family erupted out of the house, jostling each other in attempts to be the first to get to me to share that there had been a flood, and part of the highway beyond them was washed out. Maybe I was overly skeptical of their motives, but it seemed to me that the expressions on their faces weren’t those of concern but more of glee. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but YEHAWW do I have some baaaad news for you!”
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At church on Wednesday evenings, kids have a time for choir and a time to learn about missionaries. I teach the Pre-K and Kindergarten kids at their missions time. A while back, our topic one month was missionary medical teams who were working with a people group living in remote areas, somewhere in southeast Asia, I think. With very few roads in dense forests, the people did all their traveling by river. A trip by road to a physician or clinic would take days, so hardly anyone went to a doctor when they were ill. A medical team worked regularly as missionaries, traveling by boat along a river, visiting various communities, seeing those who were sick, dispensing medication, and immunizing people against common illnesses. We had some photographs, and I was explaining to the kids about the boat.
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The green stuff growing, intrusively, in my garden
There’s this stuff growing in my garden. It blankets a large portion of the space, and it looks as though I have very carefully strewn seed deliberately across the area. I have not. This is the third year it has come up, and I am dismayed each time. I’m not even sure what it is.
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I needed to refresh my knowledge about side effects of one of my prescriptions, so I looked in a file folder marked “drug info sheets.” Flipping through all those pages, I came across a half sheet of paper that didn’t look like the others. The print was small, and there was a hand-written list on the back. I finally figured out it was the receipt from a train trip I’d taken back in 2009. I had been out to visit friends in Fresno, then gone on to meet other friends in Sacramento. The train was the cheapest way to make that nearly 200 mile trip, and my Fresno friends recommended it. They’d taken a train trip a few months earlier and enjoyed it.
I enjoyed my trip, too. I stayed put in my seat and watched the world go by. I read, I knitted, and the three and a half hours passed pleasantly.
But why was that receipt in the drug folder? It had nothing to do with prescriptions. And what about the lists written on the back? Also not drug-related.
?????
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On Sunday mornings, when I have Group Time with my Sunday School preschoolers, I open my Bible to the correct reference and say, “Here is the place in the Bible where I find this story.” And I tell them the day’s Bible story. Always. I always say that!
One Sunday morning, I told the children how Nehemiah helped people build a new wall around Jerusalem. At the end of the story, one kid said, “Where do you get all the stuff you tell us?”
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I’m going to have to call the plumber.
Last week, after David mowed, he came in and asked where the sewer line went out from the house. I pointed, right outside our bedroom window and said, “Right there.”
“Are you sure,” he said.
“Absolutely.” I said. “I remember when the plumber had to come and dig up the front yard because of a clog.”
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